Dante walked deeper into the forest, the dense canopy above blotting out much of the sunlight. The air was thick with moisture, a constant reminder that this world was unforgiving and alive with predators.
His body still ached from the battle with the Hellmaw Stalker, the jagged wounds on his side burning as he moved. But he pushed through. Every step was one closer to understanding this new world and the power he could wield without sacrificing his humanity.
He needed to find his own path.
A Presence
The sounds of the forest were constant—leaves rustling, the distant calls of creatures—but there was something else, something more intentional.
A presence. Watching him.
Dante slowed his pace, his senses heightening. His claws twitched, and his tail flicked behind him as he crouched low, every muscle in his body coiled and waiting.
The air shifted.
A growl echoed in the distance, low and primal, just out of sight.
Dante knew better than to assume it was just some animal. The dark forces of this world were far more dangerous than he could've imagined, and if he wasn't careful—he'd become another meal for something stronger.
Another growl. Closer this time.
He turned, eyes narrowing as a shadow moved in the underbrush.
Then, the creature stepped into view.
The Shadowfang Lupine
A massive wolf, its fur a deep, almost oily black, stood before him. Its eyes, glowing yellow like molten gold, locked onto him, pupils narrowed with hunger. Its massive jaws parted, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
The creature wasn't just hungry—it was hunting him.
Dante's breath quickened, not from fear, but from the sharp instinct that was taking root within him. The fight was inevitable.
The wolf let out a growl, its stance low to the ground, muscles rippling as it prepared to spring.
Dante felt the pressure rise, the adrenaline flooding his veins. He could feel the hunger too—just beneath the surface. The instinct to consume. To tear into the beast's flesh and devour its essence.
But not this time.
He pushed it back.
The wolf lunged.
The Battle
Dante moved with a speed that surprised even him, dropping to the side as the wolf's fangs snapped shut inches from his throat. His claws raked out, catching the wolf's side. It yelped in pain but quickly recovered, its reflexes lightning fast.
It was stronger than him—no doubt about that. The wolf had the advantage of experience, of predator instinct. But Dante wasn't going to give up without a fight.
He dodged another strike and then lunged forward himself, his claws slashing across the beast's flank. The wolf howled in pain, but Dante couldn't afford to stop. He needed to end this, quickly.
He used his tail to balance himself, slamming into the wolf as it turned to attack again. Dante's claws met the creature's throat, sinking deep into its fur and flesh. Blood poured, warm and thick. The wolf let out a strangled sound, its body stiffening.
With a final twist, Dante drove his claws deeper. The wolf gave one last, desperate snarl, then collapsed, its body going limp.
The Aftermath
Dante stood over the creature, breathing heavily. Blood coated his claws, the weight of the battle still pressing down on him. His side ached, but the pain was bearable. He had won.
He had survived.
A sudden notification flickered in his vision.
You have slain a Shadowfang Lupine.
Soul Absorption Available. Consume?
Dante's heart raced. The hunger whispered to him, urging him to claim the power of the beast. To devour its soul and grow stronger.
But Dante resisted.
This wasn't the way. Not for him.
He closed his eyes and rejected the absorption. The wolf's essence dissipated into the air, the pull of the hunger fading as he focused on the sensations of his own body.
A second notification appeared.
Soul Absorption Declined. Essence Dissipating…
New Skill Acquired: Lupine Reflexes (Lesser).
Dante exhaled slowly. His heart still pounded, but there was something else now—a shift. His body felt quicker, more agile, as if the fight had unlocked something new inside of him. The wolf's reflexes, its swiftness, now flowed through him.
He wasn't like the others. He didn't need to consume souls to grow. He could take their power without losing himself.
A sense of satisfaction washed over him. The first real victory in this world was his.
Dante wiped the blood from his claws and looked up. The forest seemed just a little less threatening now. His steps were more confident, his mind clearer.
One battle down. Many more to go.
He wasn't just surviving. He was fighting back. And he was winning.
And if this world was hunting him he'd hunt them.