Hey everyone! Sorry for the extended break, I was on break from Uni. The break was only 2 weeks, but I've been putting this off for so long. This chapter didn't feel as nice to write. I don't know why this chapter felt weird, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
Fin's POV
"So, we're doing this?" I asked, jogging a bit to keep up with Drave's long strides as our little group of wannabe adventurers tramped down the muddy path leading out of Yartar. The sky was a murky shade of grey, looking like it wanted to start dumping rain on us at any moment.
Drave glanced over his shoulder, flashing a grin that was all confidence and no reassurance. "You got cold feet already, Fin?"
"Nope, just making sure we're all on the same page, what's the bet that the 'monster' is probably just an oversized dog or something," I said, my hands in my pockets.
Grom, who was stomping ahead with his usual grumpy dignity, huffed loudly.
"It's meant to be a wolf, a dire wolf at that," Grom grumbled without turning around. "Villagers say it's massive. Bigger than any normal beast. And it's got glowing eyes or something."
"Sounds like your standard adventure quest," I muttered.
After what I'd been through, this was a nice change of pace.
We were headed to a small village on the outskirts of Yartar, which had been having a real problem with some sort of monster attacking their livestock. And where there was trouble, there were points to be had—or so my System kept reminding me with its constant pinging of potential achievements.
Lira, walking beside me, shot me a look that was part amusement and part exasperation. "You don't believe it's real?"
I shrugged. "I'll believe it when I see it. But hey, a quest's a quest, right?"
Lira laughed, her rich, melodious voice floating over the sounds of our footsteps. She reminded me of Seraphina with her bougie way of talking.
"Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you'll get to show off more of those impressive moves from the tavern."
I couldn't help but glance at her as she said that. Not gonna lie, Lira was...hot.
Especially when she was all geared up like this, with her bow strapped to her back and her quiver full of arrows that she wore in a way that, uh, highlighted her boobs fantastically.
Yeah, I noticed. Sue me—I was only human. Or whatever I was now.
A decent 7/10.
"So, Fin," Lira began, her voice light and curious, "Where did a kid your age learn moves like that? It's not every day we see someone dodge Grom's swings that easily."
I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly. "My mom taught me?"
Lira's eyes softened, her lips parting slightly in a smile.
"Really? That sounds nice," She noted sarcastically
I shrugged, when suddenly her, tits accidentally bumped right into my head.
I suddenly stumbled, nearly tripping over a root. "Whoa, careful there!"
"Oh!" Lira blushed, stepping back quickly, her hands flying to her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Fin! I didn't mean to—"
Are all boobs in a fantasy world this obnoxisouly large?
I say it like it's a bad thing.
Boobs are cool.
...
After a few more minutes of walking, the village came into view. The sun was still flying high as we arrived.
It was a nice little place with small houses scattered around a central square with a well. Everything seemed peaceful, too peaceful for a village supposedly terrorised by a monster. It was a lot smaller than Amphail, and yet I was reminded so much of it.
As we entered, the villagers eyed us warily, their gazes flicking nervously from our weapons to the woods surrounding the village. A middle-aged man, wearing the tired lines of leadership, approached us.
His eyes lingered on me briefly, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"You're the adventurers from Yartar?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hopeful note.
Drave stepped forward, nodding solemnly. "We are. I'm Drave, this is Lira, Grom, and the kid here is Fin. We heard you've got a monster problem."
The man sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Yes, I am Vinley, the chief of this village. And the beast, it's been attacking at night, mostly. It's killed livestock, and it's getting bolder, coming closer to the homes now."
Lira's expression hardened, her hand drifting to her quiver. "We'll take care of it. Don't worry."
I looked around, feeling a bit out of my depth but excited all the same. Real monster hunting with real adventurers. This was exactly what I'd signed up for—even if part of that decision had been made with Lira's proximity in mind.
I can't preface how huge her tits were.
I'm getting sidetracked.
"Please follow me"
We followed Vinley through the narrow paths of the village. The place was quiet… too quiet.
You know that awkward silence before someone gets murdered in a horror movie? Yeah. That. Kids peeked out from behind doors. Farmers with pitchforks looked ready to stab the shadows. If this was just "wolves," then these people had either never seen one before or were dealing with something way worse.
He brought us to a small barn near the tree line, its doors splintered like something had headbutted it straight off its hinges.
"This was the last attack," Vinley said, voice tight. "Four sheep torn to shreds. The farmer's dog was found halfway up a tree."
I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, that's not a normal wolf."
Grom grunted. "Told you."
Drave knelt by the bloodstained grass, his fingers brushing over the deep claw marks dug into the dirt. "Multiple prints. Light spacing. Fast runners. Normal wolves, but…"
"But?" Lira asked, narrowing her eyes.
Drave stood. "There's one set of prints that doesn't match the rest. Heavier. Wider. Deeper. Something bigger's leading them."
The villagers weren't exaggerating. There was a monster. My heart sped up—not from fear, but from that familiar buzz in the back of my skull. The System. I could feel it preloading achievement banners like it was ready to throw confetti at the first sign of a fight.
"Alright," Drave said, turning to Vinley. "We'll need to patrol the edge of the forest tonight. If it's coming back, we catch it there."
Vinley gave a grateful nod. "Anything you need, we'll provide. Just… please stop this."
...
Helga's POV
I crouched beside Reina behind a row of dense hedges, the lights of my old home—no, my stolen home—flickering like beacons just beyond. Laughter spilled out from the manor's open windows, high-pitched and carefree, the kind of sound that had no damn business echoing through a house I once bled to protect.
Lanterns lined the walkway, enchanted with some gaudy illusion magic that made them look like floating stars. A loud boom cracked from the back of the estate, followed by shrieks and a couple of cheers. Fireworks. Wonderful.
Reina peeked over the hedge with a smirk. "Well. They've redecorated."
"I'll kill them," I muttered.
Reina snorted. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Grandma Rage. I did promise you could try to get the place back without technically committing murder."
"'Technically'?"
She shrugged. "They're nobles. You know the rules. We just need to give them a reason to leave."
I glanced back toward the building. From here, I could see them — a dozen or so students. Most of them were dressed like the academy didn't enforce a dress code. Flowing robes, enchanted scarves, one kid even had a freaking magical glowing monocle. Gods help me.
A particularly loud screech came from the front yard, followed by a flash of light as two of the brats rode a floating carpet straight into a hedge, crashing with the grace of a sack of wet potatoes.
Reina raised her eyebrows. "Think you can still take them?"
I cracked my knuckles. "Watch me."
She grinned. "Now that's the Helga I remember."
Ten Minutes Later
I walked through the front door like I still owned the place — which, in every way that mattered, I damn well did.
The music screeched to a halt.
A handful of noble kids froze mid-dance, holding glowing mugs and charmed party hats that sparkled like they were stuck in a glitter-based time bomb.
One particularly tall student with a two-foot wand and no visible muscle stepped forward. "Uh. Who are you?"
I smiled politely.
Then punched him in the face.
Hard.
He flew back into a couch, which crumpled beneath him like a wet loaf of bread.
Gasps erupted.
"Who wants to talk about property rights?" I asked, voice sweet and laced with murder.
The room went dead silent.
"Pack. Your. Shit."
The nobles all just stared at me, mouths flapping like landed fish. One kid even dropped his wand, which clattered uselessly to the floor with a sad little thud.
Good. Fear would make this much easier.
Before anyone could try to cast a spell or scream for help, Reina strolled in behind me, hands tucked casually into the pockets of her long coat. She surveyed the room like she was shopping for new boots.
"Alright, kids," she said pleasantly, "new rules: while you're packing your things, please form a nice little line over here by the door. And while you're at it..."
She pulled out a small dagger, not brandishing it, just lazily twirling it around her fingers like it was a toy.
"...empty your coin purses and wallets into the sack, please. Donations to the 'You shouldn't have trespassed fund'."
A long silence.
One of the girls—redhead with a ridiculous feathered hat—sputtered, "Y-you can't be serious! We're nobles!"
Reina's smile widened just a touch. She flipped the dagger into the air and caught it without looking. "Exactly. Nobles can afford to be generous."
I had to hide a smirk as one of the boys, the one who'd crashed the carpet into the hedge earlier, hastily fumbled for his pouch and tossed it into Reina's sack.
"Good lad," she said sweetly.
One by one, grumbling and terrified, they started lining up, pulling out purses heavy with gold, enchanted rings, even a few gems. Reina accepted each offering with a nod, like a schoolteacher collecting homework.
I leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Consider it your tuition payment. Real-world lessons aren't cheap."
Another boy, trying very hard to look brave, puffed up his chest. "M-my father's a Count! He'll have you arrested!"
Without a word, Reina whirled her dagger once and thunk—buried it in the wall exactly an inch from the boy's nose.
He yelped like a kicked puppy and immediately threw his entire belt pouch into the sack.
"Good boy," Reina said, patting his head condescendingly.
The 'negotiations' took less than five minutes.
By the end of it, the nobles were practically tripping over each other to get their enchanted belongings and stumble out the door into the cold night, their pride leaking out of them like a broken wineskin.
As the last one vanished over the hill, I turned to Reina, who was cinching the heavy, jingly sack closed with a satisfied grunt.
"You enjoying yourself?" I asked dryly.
Reina shrugged, slinging the loot over her shoulder. "I mean, it's not every day we rob spoiled brats and call it justice."
"Fair point," I admitted.
I turned back toward the inside of the house—my house—and sighed. It was a mess. Furniture overturned. Weird, magical graffiti all over the walls. Someone had even turned the fireplace into some kind of cursed punch bowl.
But it was mine again.
The weight in my chest lifted a little.
"We'll fix it up," Reina said, noticing my face.
"Yeah," I muttered. "One thing at a time."
Meanwhile, upstairs...
While Reina sorted through the stolen loot gleefully, I wandered through the upstairs hallway, taking stock of the damage.
That's when I found it — tucked away inside one of the upstairs bedrooms, under a pile of discarded cloaks.
A leather-bound book.
Old. Heavy. Enchanted.
And it hummed faintly when I touched it.
Frowning, I pulled it out, flipping it open.
Inside — sketches, glyphs, diagrams… and notes.
Notes about soul-binding.
Forbidden magic.
Cult magic.
My heart stopped.
What the hell were a bunch of spoiled noble brats doing with this?
I stared down at the pages, bile rising in my throat.
This wasn't just some noble brats playing pretend. Whoever left this book behind wasn't experimenting with harmless parlour tricks. They were studying real, forbidden magic—soul magic.
Diagrams of ritual circles. Notes about enhancing magical cores by trapping the souls of "innocents." Drawings that looked far too similar to the artifact Fin's father had once planned to forge from him.
My fingers clenched the leather cover so tightly that it creaked.
"Helga?"
I looked up to see Reina leaning against the doorframe, sack of stolen wallets still slung over her shoulder.
Her face shifted when she saw my expression. "What is it?"
I tossed the book onto the bed between us. She flipped it open, scanning a few pages, and instantly paled.
"Gods above," she muttered. "You think this is from…?"
I nodded once, grimly.
"They're not dead," I said quietly. "The cult. It's not dead. It's just hiding. Rebuilding."
Reina looked up sharply. "Here? In Yartar?"
I shook my head. "Not just here. They're everywhere. Scattered... but not broken. They're using students, nobles... anyone dumb enough to thirst for power."
Reina swallowed thickly. "Fin..."
I stiffened, instincts screaming.
...
Fin's POV
I ducked under another snapping jaw, barely managing to roll as two wolves lunged at me from opposite sides.
"Little help?" I barked over my shoulder.
Drave answered with a swift slash, knocking one wolf away from me while Lira picked off another with a clean, whistling arrow shot.
It was chaos. We had been expecting one or two wolves.
Instead?
Seven.
And they were insanely coordinated.
Which was weirding me out.
Another wolf lunged at me from the left — jaws wide, fangs dripping saliva — but this time, I was ready.
I tightened my grip on my bracer, my thoughts transforming it into a shortsword.
I sidestepped neatly, almost lazy about it, and buried my sword deep into its side with a satisfying shlkk!.
The wolf yelped once before crumpling into the snow.
[Achievement Completed: Defeat a Wild Beast - +15pp][New PP Total: 88]
Not bad for a day's work.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm, breathing hard. My legs ached from constantly dodging and weaving, my shoulders were tight from swinging more than I probably should've been. Even with all the buffs I'd gotten, I was still stuck inside a seven-year-old's twiggy body.
Across the clearing, Lira spun with her bow, firing two rapid shots into another wolf's shoulder and hip, staggering it long enough for Drave to finish it off with a clean thrust to the neck.
That left one wolf.
Grom was already charging it, screaming something very dwarvish and very unholy about the wolf's parentage.
The wolf barely got a snarl out before Grom's hammer pancaked its skull like a dropped melon.
The sudden silence afterwards was deafening.
I stood there, chest heaving, sword hanging loosely from my hand. Snowflakes floated gently down around us, settling onto blood-splattered ground.
Seven wolves down.
No casualties.
"Nice work," Drave said, sheathing his sword casually like he hadn't just murdered two monsters in under ten minutes.
Grom grunted, wiping gore off his hammer with a dirty rag. "Told you they were more organised than normal."
Lira walked over to me, offering a quick, proud smile. "You did well, Fin. Seriously."
I shrugged, feeling the heat rise to my ears a little. "Thanks. Wasn't too bad."
In reality?
I felt like I was about to collapse.
But no way in hell was I showing weakness in front of them. Especially not in front of Lira, who somehow still managed to look gorgeous even covered in wolf blood.
Priorities.
I pulled my System window up real quick while the others weren't paying attention:
[Achievements Completed:]
Defeat a Wild Beast x4 (+60PP)
Assist an Ally in Combat (+10PP)
Survive a Pack Attack (+25PP)
Total: +95PP
[PP Total: 183]
Nice. Slowly but surely, crawling back up to another guaranteed roll.
I was about to relax, maybe crack a joke about wolf pelts and overpriced cloaks, when it happened.
Another low growl rumbled from deeper in the woods — not one of the wolves here. Something heavier. Bigger. Smarter.
I felt it before I saw it.
A pulse in the air.
Dark.
Hungry.
Nostalgic?
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my Observation Haki flaring uncontrollably.
The wolves froze mid-fight — their heads all snapping toward the forest in unison.
We all froze.
This wasn't like the earlier howls. Those had been animalistic, feral. This was... calculated.
Like something calling its soldiers home.
Drave turned slowly to look at us, his face grim.
"That," he said quietly, "is no ordinary wolf."
"Wonderful," I muttered. "Because seven normal wolves weren't enough cardio today."
The trees split open like someone had torn the forest in half.
And out they came.
Not normal wolves.Not even close.
These things were bigger — thicker muscle, darker fur matted with blood and something else — like smoke leaking out of their jaws when they breathed. Their eyes weren't the healthy yellow of normal wolves either. No, these glowed an ugly, sickly green.
Ten of them.
Moving like a proper hunting party. Fast. Coordinated. Terrifying.
"Shit," I breathed.
Drave didn't waste time. "Form up! Back to back!"
I'd trained enough now that I moved like I'd been doing it forever — ranger cloak swishing as I locked into position next to Grom, who was already muttering curses under his breath like some pissed-off war priest.
"They're corrupted," Lira said grimly. "I've seen it once before. Magic poisoning the wilds. Makes them stronger. Meaner."
"Neat," I said. "That would've been nice to know BEFORE we signed up for wolf duty!"
The first of them lunged.
Drave sidestepped cleanly, burying his blade into the side of its skull without hesitation. The thing dropped, twitching violently before going still — but two more immediately took its place.
They didn't break ranks.They didn't flee when one died.
They weren't acting like animals at all.
I ducked low as a corrupted wolf snapped at my throat, feeling its breath scorch against my face. I twisted, pivoted, and drove my sword right under its chin, punching up through its skull. Blood sprayed, hot and sharp, spattering my boots.
I didn't even flinch.
[Achievements Completed:]
Defeat a Corrupted Beast (+30)
[PP Total: 213]
Not the time to celebrate.
Another one came at me — this one faster — and I barely rolled out of the way before it could sink its mutated teeth into my leg.
"You alright?" Lira called, loosing an arrow into another wolf trying to flank Grom.
"I'm peachy," I snapped back, scrambling to my feet. "Just making friends."
Three wolves peeled off toward her, jaws snapping. She managed to drop one with a pinpoint shot through the eye, but the other two were closing too fast.
Without thinking, I pushed off the ground, using Soru — the world blurred for a split second — and I slammed into one of the wolves mid-leap, throwing it off course.
Lira finished the second with another arrow before it could even touch her.
She glanced at me, surprised. "You moved—?"
"Later!" I yelled, spinning around to catch the wolf I body-checked, coming back for another go.
My sword locked with its claws mid-strike. It snarled, saliva hitting my face, and I shoved back with everything I had, teeth gritted, muscles burning.
I wasn't strong enough to overpower it.
Not yet.
But I was fast enough.
I shifted my footing, redirected its weight like Jason Bourne himself was puppeteering me, and sent the beast tumbling over my shoulder into the dirt. Before it could even react, my blade came down — clean through its neck.
Another one down.
Another achievement pinged.Another flash of points.
I barely noticed.
The fight turned into a blur.
Grom swinging like a madman, roaring and bashing wolves into broken piles.
Drave moves through the chaos with surgical precision, every strike calculated, clean.
Lira dancing back and forth, arrows flying, every shot finding a home between fur and flesh.
And I — surviving.
Barely.
I fought like a cornered animal. No wasted moves. No hesitation.
Every step, every breath mattered.
Because these things weren't just dangerous — they were smarter than they had any right to be. They dodged, they coordinated, they tried to separate us.
And for the first time since I'd reincarnated into this world, I realised something bone-deep:
This world didn't give a damn if I was a kid or not.
Either I fought like I belonged here.
Or I'd end up another bloodstain in the snow.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, we stood over the ruined bodies of the last two corrupted wolves, panting, bleeding, but victorious.
The clearing was a mess — snow stained red, trees scarred, the ground torn to shit.
I wiped my blade clean on one of the wolves' mangled pelts, grimacing.
"Everyone alright?" Drave called, already checking his gear.
"Alive," Grom grunted.
"I think so," Lira said, limping slightly.
I raised a hand. "I'm good. Might need, like, fifteen pies and a nap, though."
They chuckled tiredly, the kind of hollow, we survived that shit laughter only adventurers seemed to understand.
Drave sheathed his sword again, face grim. "This isn't over."
He nodded toward the forest.
And there, just at the edge of the trees, something massive moved.
A shape.
A shadow.
And a low growl that rumbled through the clearing like an earthquake.
Watching.
Waiting.
Sizing us up.
Then, the Dire Wolf moved.
One moment, it was standing there at the edge of the clearing, muscles coiled, lips peeled back in a grotesque grin.
I blinked—
And it was behind us.
Just like that.
No sound.
No blur.
No chance to react.
A wet, horrible crunch echoed through the clearing.
I turned — slow, too slow — and saw Grom.
Still standing.
Still gripping his hammer.
Except his head was gone.
Just… gone.
Blood sprayed upward in lazy arcs, his body finally slumping forward like a sack of stones.
The Dire Wolf sat behind him, jaws dripping crimson, breathing heavily through its torn, mangled mouth.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The forest went silent again, like the world itself recoiled from what had just happened.
My heart slammed against my ribs, hammering so hard it hurt.
Too fast.
That wasn't possible.
Nothing that big should have been able to move like that.
This wasn't speed.
This was something worse.
Something broken.
The Dire Wolf's mismatched eyes flicked toward me again, lingering as if savouring the terror leaking off me.
It was looking at me, glaring at me.
Then it licked its blood-soaked jaws lazily, like it had all the time in the world.
Drave was the first to react.
"Formation! Tight, now!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly.
Lira stumbled backward
Me?
I tightened my grip on my weapon, forcing my body to stay still even though every survival instinct I had was screaming at me to run.
[New Quest: Survive the Corrupted Alpha]Reward: ???
I tried using Igni.
Dire Wolf moved.
And I missed it.
One second, it was right fucking there —Next, it was behind us.
Just… standing there.
And Grom — Grom fucking stood there too —For half a second.
Until his body tilted.
Until his headless neck gushed blood like a broken pipe.
His hammer slipped from his fingers.His knees buckled.
He collapsed to the ground without a goddamn sound.
The fucker had bitten off his head so fast we didn't even see it happen.
Even the damn trees seemed frozen, like the whole world had glitched.
I felt my breath catch in my throat, my hands slick with sweat on the hilt of my weapon.
Lira was staring at Grom's body, her bow trembling in her hands.Drave's face had gone pale, his sword hanging uselessly at his side.Neither of them reacted.
Because what the fuck do you even do after seeing that?
My stomach twisted into knots.
This wasn't just danger.
This was a whole different league of fucked.
Then I heard it.
The voice again.
His voice.
Amused.
Fucking chuckling in my head like we were sharing a joke at a bar.
"Ah, my apologies, Fin. I may have forgotten a minor detail..."
I clenched my teeth, gripping my sword tighter.
"Beings empowered through soul magic are... how do I put this... catastrophically stronger than their natural counterparts."
Another soft laugh.
"A soul-bound creature is not bound by physical laws anymore. Their strength, their speed... all enhanced exponentially."
My heart hammered harder.
I stared at the Dire Wolf, still licking blood off its muzzle lazily, still watching us, patient, like it had all the time in the world.
It wasn't just fast.
It wasn't just strong.
It was cheating.
It was physics saying fuck you and walking out the door.
"G-Grom…" Lira's voice cracked beside me.
She stumbled back, almost dropping her bow.
Drave took a half step forward, his sword raised, but his hands weren't steady.
They weren't processing it.
They couldn't.
They'd never seen soul magic before.
They had no fucking framework for what we were dealing with.
But me?
I understood.
The Dire Wolf finally moved again, slow, deliberate, padding around us on massive paws that crushed the snow into sludge with every step.
It was playing with us.
Waiting to see who broke first.
My mind raced, a thousand thoughts screaming through my head.
I needed a plan.
I couldn't outfight this thing.
I had to outthink it.
Lira shifted next to me, trembling, not with cold.
Fear. Raw, bone-deep fear.
Drave?
He wasn't looking at the wolf.
He was looking at...me.
"Listen," Drave said quietly, too quietly, the tip of his sword trembling just slightly. "It's after the kid."
My blood ran cold.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I hissed back.
"It went for you, Fin. It's locked onto you," Drave said, voice flat, practical. "We can use that."
Lira turned sharply, her face stricken. "Drave—"
He cut her off with a glare. "We can't win against this thing. Not head-on. But if one of us runs — leads it away—"
His eyes met mine again.
He wanted it to be me.
Sacrifice the kid.
Save the group.
Simple math.
Clean.
Ugly.
Logical.
I stared at him — stared — and saw the truth underneath that calm, tactical exterior.
Drave wasn't a leader.
He was a survivor.
Always had been.
Always would be.
Lira opened her mouth, about to argue — but when the Dire Wolf growled low again, a sound that shook the marrow of my bones, she hesitated.
I saw it flicker across her face — the doubt.The fear.
She didn't want to sacrifice me.
But she was scared enough to let it happen.
If it meant surviving.
I laughed.
A harsh, bitter sound.
"Fuck you," I said, stepping forward.
Both of them flinched.
"You think I'm just gonna roll over? You think I'm bait?"
I tightened my grip on my weapon, feeling the hilt heat slightly under my palm, alive and eager.
No.
The world narrowed down to a soundless vacuum.
The Dire Wolf stalked in a lazy circle around us, blood dripping from its cracked maw. Every heavy footfall pressed into the snow like an executioner's drumbeat.
I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Right next to me, Drave's breathing quickened. His blade raised to touch my neck.
"You heard me," he said again, voice tight. "It's after you. You lead it away. Or I'll end you myself"
I barely turned my head toward him.
Lira's mouth opened — a small sound escaping, part protest, part terror — but she didn't move. Didn't argue.
I could see it written all over their faces.
Calculation.
Survival.
Me or them.
They didn't have to say it outright.
I wasn't stupid.
Sacrifice the kid. Save ourselves.
I stared at Drave's sword hand. It was shaking. Not out of fear of the wolf. Out of fear of what would happen if they didn't act fast enough.
They weren't heroes.
They never had been.
And I had been a fucking idiot for thinking otherwise.
Somewhere deep inside, something snapped.
Not all at once.
Not with some dramatic scream.
Just quietly. Finally. Completely.
Memories I didn't want flooded up:
An old world.
My past life.
That putrid, cheap apartment smell.
The suffocating silence between me and Grace.
The way she told me — flat, empty — that she had "handled it" without me.
No choice.
No say.
Just taken from me.
Because I didn't matter.
I never mattered.
Not to Grace.
Not to Drave.
Not to Lira.
Not to anyone.
Sure, there was Helga, but I wasn't really her son, just some random kid who took his place.
A low, almost pleasant chuckle filled my head.
My father's voice, smooth and syrupy, curled lazily through my mind.
"You truly are cursed, boy. You seek belonging — and find only betrayal."
I ground my teeth hard enough that I tasted blood.
"Every world, every life... the same story."
"You were made to be abandoned."
He didn't know.
He couldn't know.
But somehow, the words hit deeper than any blade.
I looked at Drave.
I looked at Lira.
I looked at the blood-splattered snow where Grom's headless body still twitched in the dirt.
And I laughed.
A broken, ugly thing that clawed out of my throat like it was tearing its way free.
Lira flinched back a step.
Drave tightened his grip on his sword.
The Dire Wolf paused, cocking its grotesque, stitched head slightly to the side — almost... curious.
I spoke, low and savage:
"You think I'm scared?"
The blade pressed harder against my neck.
I barely noticed the sting.
"If I gotta go..." I whispered, grinning so wide it hurt my face, "Then I'll take you with me."
Drave's sword hand twitched.Lira flinched like she'd just seen a ghost.
Perfect.
I moved.
Soru cracked the ground under my feet —one second I was standing still,the next I was a fucking blur.
The Dire Wolf roared, lunging after me instantly, faster than anything that size had any right to be.Snow exploded behind me.
I didn't dodge toward safety.
I ran straight at Drave.
He realised too late.
His mouth opened — maybe to curse, maybe to beg — but I didn't hear it.
All I heard was the blood roaring in my ears.
The wolf followed.
An avalanche of fur, teeth, and fury.
Right. Behind. Me.
I ducked low, sliding across the frozen ground like a skipping stone, using Parkour mastery to shift my weight perfectly.
The Dire Wolf didn't slow down.
It barrelled into Drave like a wrecking ball —bone snapped, armour crunched,and Drave screamed once, high and sharp, before he disappeared under the beast's weight.
Blood splattered the snow like a crimson fireworks show.
I didn't stop.
I couldn't stop.
Another flash of movement — Lira.
She scrambled back, raising her bow, aiming wildly.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her hands shook too much to aim properly.
The Dire Wolf turned toward her.
And for a split second, I almost felt bad.
Almost.
But then I remembered the sword against my throat.The betrayal.The look in her eyes when she didn't say anything to stop Drave.
Fuck her.
I pivoted, calling on the last sliver of mana in my body —Igni.
Fire erupted from my outstretched hand, a sudden burst of roaring heat.
It wasn't aimed at Lira.
It was aimed at the wolf's face.
The beast recoiled instinctively, snarling, blinded for half a heartbeat.
Long enough.
I dropped low again, using Soru once more —my muscles screaming, my bones protesting —But I moved anyway, zipping behind the wolf.
I saw it now.
The weakness.
That fleshy, pulsing scar on its forehead —like a crack barely stitched shut.
Where the second soul was trying to tear free.
My heartbeat slowed.
The world blurred at the edges.
Pain screamed up my spine.
My legs felt like they were tearing apart with every step.
My body wasn't built for this.
Didn't matter.
I bared my teeth in a snarl and launched myself into the air.
One last move.
No hesitation.
I forced the bracer on my arm to shift mid-leap —into a brutal, spiraled drill-spear — something sharp enough to pierce a goddamn god if I had to.
The pain almost knocked me out midair.
I didn't care.
I screamed — a broken, furious, alive scream — and drove the spiralled blade into the creature's forehead with everything I had.
The impact shattered my arms instantly.
I felt the bones snap — pop — crack —
But I kept pushing.
The drill bit into that pulsing scar.
The Dire Wolf howled —a noise so loud, so raw, that the sky itself seemed to shudder.
It thrashed wildly, trying to shake me off, but I clung to the weapon like a fucking tick.
The spinning blade chewed through bone, muscle, and magic.
I kept laughing.
I couldn't stop.
It wasn't funny.
It was survival.
It was rage.
It was betrayal, loss, hate, love, loneliness, all churned together into something monstrous and pure.
It was me.
The wolf collapsed, legs buckling, the light in its mutated eyes flickering out like dying stars.
The ground hit me harder than any fall I'd ever taken.
I rolled across the blood-soaked snow like a broken doll, finally coming to a stop facedown, coughing blood into the white powder.
Silence.
Real silence.
Not the tense kind before a fight.
The real kind.
The kind that only comes after everything important has already died.
I struggled to sit up.
My body didn't want to move.
Didn't matter.
I needed to see it.
I needed proof.
I lifted my head, blinking blood out of my eyes.
The Dire Wolf was still.
Its massive, broken body twitched once...Then went still forever.
Nearby, Drave's body was a mangled mess.
Lira lay crumpled, her bow shattered next to her.
I didn't even know if she was breathing.
Didn't care.
They weren't my problem anymore.
Nothing was.
I collapsed backward onto the snow, the sky spinning drunkenly above me.
My ribs felt like a thousand knives digging into my lungs.
My legs weren't responding. I looked down
I chuckled. They weren't bending the right way.
My arms looked like the bones had been pulled out.
I laughed.
It hurt.
But I laughed anyway.
Because I'd done it.
I wasn't supposed to win.
I wasn't supposed to live.
But fuck fate.
Fuck them all.
I was still here.
Still breathing.
Barely.
And it was mine.
I closed my eyes, letting the cold seep into my bones.
Above me, the stars started to come out, tiny pinpricks of light in a dark, endless sky.
Then black...
End of Chapter
Word Count: 5859