The icy wind howled through the forest as Arren continued his trek toward the barracks. Over one shoulder, he carried two massive boars, their weight seemingly insignificant to his sturdy frame. In his other hand, the magical bag housing the dragon egg hung securely, undisturbed by his steady strides. Snow crunched underfoot with each step, and the faint glow of twilight painted the landscape in eerie shades of blue and gray.
A low, guttural growl pierced the silence, stopping Arren in his tracks. His sharp instincts kicked in, muscles tensing as his ears strained to locate the source of the sound. Slowly, he placed the boars on the ground, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. The growls grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of heavy paws crunching the snow.
Emerging from the shadows was a massive wolf, its fur as dark as midnight and its eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. Tendrils of a dark aura radiated from its body, making the air around it feel heavy and oppressive. The wolf snarled, baring its razor-sharp fangs, saliva dripping onto the snow as it circled him.
Arren drew his sword, its steel glinting in the dim light. He knew this was no ordinary wolf—it was an evolved beast, corrupted by the malevolent aura that surrounded it. He took a defensive stance, his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to react to the creature's every move.
The wolf lunged without warning, its speed blinding. Arren sidestepped just in time, bringing his sword down in a wide arc. The blade grazed the wolf's side, drawing blackened blood that hissed as it hit the snow. The creature let out an ear-splitting roar, its aura intensifying, and charged again, faster and more erratic.
Arren ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the wolf's snapping jaws. He countered with a thrust, driving his sword into the beast's shoulder. The wolf yelped, momentarily stunned, but its eyes burned brighter with rage. It swiped at him with claws that left deep gouges in a nearby tree.
The fight was relentless. The wolf's agility and ferocity pushed Arren to his limits, forcing him to draw on every ounce of his skill and stamina. His breaths came in ragged gasps, misting in the frigid air. A misstep sent him sliding on a patch of ice, and the wolf seized the opportunity, pouncing on him with its full weight.
Arren grunted as he hit the ground, the wolf's teeth snapping dangerously close to his face. He wrestled with the beast, using his sword to hold its jaws at bay. With a surge of strength, he shoved the wolf off and slashed its underbelly in one swift motion.
The wolf let out a final, guttural howl before collapsing into the snow. Its dark aura dissipated, leaving only its massive, lifeless body behind. Arren staggered to his feet, wiping the sweat and blood from his face. He eyed the wolf's corpse warily, noting the strange, shimmering quality of its fur.
Hunger gnawed at him, and despite the unease in his gut, he decided to make use of the kill. Drawing his knife, he carved into the wolf's flesh, roasting a piece of its meat over a small fire. The taste was hideous, bitter and foul, but he forced it down. Almost immediately, his body rebelled, and he doubled over, coughing blood.
Darkness claimed him as he fell into the snow.
When Arren awoke, the forest was cloaked in night. Stars glittered above, and the bitter cold gnawed at his exposed skin. To his surprise, he felt no lingering effects from the poison, only a strange warmth coursing through him. His hand shot to the magical bag—relief washed over him when he found the dragon egg still intact inside.
Surveying the scene, Arren spotted the wolf's meat buried under a light layer of snow. His bloodstained clothes reminded him of the ferocious battle he'd endured. As he picked up the meat, an idea struck him.
"What if you turn into a pouch?" he said aloud, addressing the magical bag.
To his astonishment, the bag shimmered and shifted into a compact pouch, light and easy to carry. Arren grinned, marveling at its versatility.
"Looks like you'll be so useful in the future," he muttered, tucking the wolf meat inside.
With his newfound discovery and the realization that he was immune to the poison, Arren continued toward the barracks, his resolve stronger than ever.