Chapter 20: The First Letter (20)
Chapter 20: The First Letter (20)
In a small clearing in the forest, man and beast formed a circle amidst the sparsely growing trees. Their gazes locked, framed by a silence pulled taut with tension.
The man held a sword, but the beast carried nothing. Standing well over two meters tall, its massive frame was a lethal weapon in its own right; it had no need for anything else.
The man, staring wordlessly at the wolf, already looked like a battered mess.
Mud and dried blood clung to him everywhere, and the plain cloth wrapped around his forearm had long since been stained. His breath grew ragged with every step, and his eyes occasionally lost their focus.
It wouldn't have been strange if he collapsed right then and there. The beast was waiting for that exact moment.
The human’s presence was strangely faint. Usually, neither his breathing nor his heartbeat could be heard clearly. Had it not been for the ragged gasps and the racing pulse he felt now, the wolf might not have even known the man was alive.
The wolf’s subordinates had all fallen to this man. Some had been picked off one by one, while others, even in groups of two or three, had been unable to overcome him.
Among humans, he was surely one of the strong. He was the most formidable opponent the wolf had ever hunted.
The sight of him sprawled out with his entrails spilling onto the ground would be quite a masterpiece.
The wolf, possessing a strangely artistic temperament for a beast, felt a surge of pleasure at the thought. Its breath hitched slightly in anticipation.
In contrast, the man remained calm throughout. At least, he appeared so on the surface. Inside, he was pushed to the boiling point, his body on the verge of crumbling.
I lost my cool for a moment, the man—Ian—thought.
No matter how he looked at it, his physical condition was far from normal. His muscles had reached their limit, screaming in protest every time he exerted force. His stiff movements were proof enough.
And the beast before him was on an entirely different level from any enemy he had faced so far. It was likely the leader; it possessed not only superior size but also superior intelligence.
That was why it was approaching so cautiously. The demonic beasts he had turned into corpses until now hadn't been like this.
They had either charged blindly, consumed by hostility, or had been caught off guard and killed before they even noticed him.
One mistake, and I’m dead. Ian’s steps became as careful as if he were treading on thin ice.
Even without a mistake, this was an opponent that could kill him. If he let his guard down for even a second, death would claim him in a heartbeat.
Emma’s murderer was right in front of him. He couldn't bear the thought of a gloomy reunion in the afterlife because he failed to avenge her as a friend.
Ian’s golden eyes scrutinized the wolf’s every movement.
He was looking for a 'sign.' Though the beast was currently pacing with a leisurely gait, it was still a predator. No matter how great its patience, it could not suppress its innate wildness forever.
Soon, its patience would reach its limit, and when it did, the movement of its muscles would inevitably change.
That split second would be his chance. To put it bluntly, Ian’s body was in no condition for a prolonged battle. He had to find an opening and end it in a single strike.
The psychological warfare between Ian and the wolf continued for a few moments longer.
The wolf’s muscles twitched. A virtual trajectory drew itself before Ian’s eyes.
Now. The moment Ian thought that and twisted his body—
Thud! A heavy impact slammed into him.
It felt like being hit by a cannonball. No, it was a terrifying weight propelled by an acceleration that left no afterimage. It was no exaggeration to call the beast a living projectile.
"Gah...!"
His eyes flew open as blood sprayed from his mouth. His body was sent flying, crashing into the trunk of a tree.
Boom! The tree, struck by the mass of a full-grown man, shuddered violently, shedding leaves. Simultaneously, Ian’s vision blurred and shook.
"Ugh..." Ian groaned, instinctively curling into a ball. Every joint in his body ached. He had protected himself with mana, but even that had its limits.
At the final moment, he hadn't seen it.
To be more precise, he had seen it, but only as a faint afterimage. That was why he had at least been able to twist his body.
But that was all. Ian’s body was too exhausted to fully evade that charge.
His senses were absurdly sharp. It felt as if Ian were relearning how to perceive the world. He hadn't realized the world was so intricate, sending out such a variety of signals.
His senses were incomparably sharper than when he had sparred with Seria. However, his exhausted body could not immediately execute the commands sent by his brain.
And so, he had allowed a hit. In his current state, it was a critical blow.
Naturally, the wolf did not give the man time to catch his breath.
Though it took a moment to brake due to the sheer speed of its charge, the wolf used that rebound force as a springboard to lunge at high speed once again.
The wolf’s maw swung wide. Instinctively, Ian channeled mana into the sword he was holding.
And then, he threw it. It was a reaction speed akin to a spinal reflex, bypassing the brain entirely.
The blade, spinning at a fierce speed, was sucked straight into the wolf’s open maw. With the blade’s flight speed added to the wolf’s own momentum, the beast’s jaws never even reached Ian.
Startled, the wolf clamped its teeth down, barely managing to stop the blade. However, the mana-infused blade resisted the terrifying bite force, scraping against the teeth as it continued its advance.
Screeeech! A skin-crawling sound erupted as white tooth-dust scattered. It was at that moment that Ian drew the hand axe from his waist.
His hand axe slammed down onto the bridge of the wolf’s nose. Thwack! Dark blood sprayed from the beast's snout.
It would have been ideal if the wolf’s head had been pinned to the ground, but its physical strength was incomparably greater than any wolf he had faced before.
The beast merely recoiled, howling in sudden, agonizing pain.
The sword fell from its open maw. Ian immediately lunged toward the wolf with his hand axe, but the beast was no easy opponent.
Clang! The sound of the hand axe clashing against claws rang out. The wolf had instinctively swung its forepaw to block Ian’s rush.
The wolf leaped into the air and performed a full rotation. A picture-perfect backflip. If I caught that bastard and sold him to a circus, he’d probably fetch a good price, Ian thought.
Even as he entertained such an absurd thought, Ian quickly retrieved his sword from the ground. Now that the distance had widened, a follow-up attack was impossible.
One win, one loss.
The wolf crouched low, growling. Blood was streaming from the bridge of its nose. Bloody foam bubbled from its snout with every ragged breath.
Seeing that, Ian curled his lips into a mocking smirk.
"Huff, haha... huff. Does it hurt?"
The wolf did not answer. It only let out a low, guttural rasp, its eyes filled with even more caution than before.
Ian wanted to shout, 'It hurts me more, you bastard!' but he was too out of breath to manage it.
He merely panted, a faint smile playing on his lips.
His lungs felt like they were being squeezed tight. The pain from being hit by that charge still hadn't faded, even though he had twisted to deflect the impact and protected himself with mana at the last second.
A raw, bone-scraping pain radiated from his arm. At the very least, it meant the bone was cracked. A stinging agony throbbed through him, causing his arm to tremble uncontrollably.
The odds have turned against me, Ian thought.
His strength was already failing. It was a mercy that the density of his aura had been steadily increasing during the fight; otherwise, he wouldn't have even been able to pierce the beast's hide.
In truth, the hand axe had only embedded itself because it hit a soft spot like the nose. Against the thick hide, it wouldn't have stood a chance.
Of course, there was one advantage he had gained.
Hostility still burned fiercely in the wolf’s eyes, but they also betrayed an undeniable sense of bewilderment and fear.
It seemed the beast hadn't expected that opening its mouth to finish him would instead threaten its own life. Now, the creature would likely be hesitant to show off those sharp teeth.
As its protruding snout suggested, the most lethal weapon of most predators was their teeth and the bite force behind them. In other words, the wolf had effectively had one of its primary weapons sealed.
It was a fair trade-off. The only problem was that Ian’s stamina had reached its limit long ago, while the wolf had only suffered a single wound.
It was a clever beast. Now that its momentum had been dampened by injury, there was no way it wouldn't exploit the situation.
And Ian’s prediction was spot on.
The wolf lunged off the ground. It was the same terrifyingly fast body slam it had shown at the beginning. Ian gave up on counterattacking and threw himself aside the moment he saw the sign.
Ian rolled across the ground. Just as he was scrambling to his feet, sword in hand to prepare for a follow-up—
He saw the wolf already back at a distance, glaring at him.
"...You cowardly, huff... bastard."
The man spat out a mouthful of blood and muttered. The wolf’s intention was obvious.
It was going for a war of attrition. It was clear who would tire out first.
The wolf had the advantage in speed. Even if Ian wanted to strike first, he couldn't catch up if the wolf used its superior mobility. Nor did he have any suitable long-range attacks.
Throwing his weapon was an option, but the risk was too high. If he failed to retrieve it, he was finished.
Though even Ian didn't know why he was so proficient at throwing, something he had never once practiced.
The wolf didn't give Ian much time to think. It charged again.
Ian rolled across the ground. It was his only choice. And as he panted, showing signs of slowing down—
Thud! The wolf’s claws slammed into the earth where he had just been. If Ian hadn't rolled at the very last second, those claws would have been embedded in his body.
He tried to respond with his sword, but he couldn't generate proper power from a rolling position. Before he could even coat his blade with mana, the wolf retreated.
Aura. He needed time to coat his sword with mana. Ian grit his teeth and staggered to his feet.
Several more exchanges followed.
A few times he rolled to dodge, and a few times he raised his sword to block the claws. The wolf was never in a hurry.
Like a hunter cornering its prey, the wolf relentlessly pressured Ian.
With every passing second, Ian’s breathing grew more labored.
Oxygen wasn't reaching his brain properly, making his mind hazy. His vision blurred, and the focus in his eyes, which usually held a cool light, began to unravel.
His body wasn't listening. His muscles were as stiff as lead, failing to carry out the commands of his instincts. The wolf felt a surge of elation at the sight.
The excitement of the hunt heated the demonic beast’s brain. Pleasure-inducing chemicals flooded its system; its eyes became bloodshot, and its breathing grew heavy.
The beast knew instinctively. The moment it landed one more solid blow, the man would be finished.
This was the opponent who had managed to wound it. When the blade had entered its open maw, the wolf had felt fear for the first time in its life. That fear now stimulated both its excitement and its wariness.
It wanted to kill this human quickly and prove its own strength. Its predatory instincts were screaming at it to tear the man apart right now.
But the wolf remained patient. It believed that its patience would soon bear fruit.
The wolf’s judgment was soon proven correct.
Exhausted to the core, Ian finally failed to evade the wolf’s charge. With a dull thud, the man’s body was sent flying through the air. No.
Rather than 'flying,' the word 'propelled' was more fitting. The momentum of the wolf’s massive frame, launched at blind speed, was beyond imagination. He had taken a direct hit.
Boom! The man’s body slammed into a tree trunk once more and slid down. The sword hilt he gripped until the very end looked pitiful. The trees rustled from the shockwave, shedding their leaves.
The man’s faint breathing faded away. Even his heartbeat could no longer be felt. It was a clear sign of death.
The wolf’s heart pounded. Had it finally won?
Yet, the beast remained cautious until the very end. As if fearing it might be a trap, it crouched low and circled the body.
Still, there was no sign of the man’s breath returning. Nor his heartbeat. Finally, the wolf’s patience reached its limit.
The wolf strode forward to admire the corpse it had made. It was beautiful.
Gazing at Ian with ecstatic eyes, the wolf carefully unsheathed its sharp claws. Like an artist afraid of damaging the contents of his work.
If I slice the belly with these claws, the entrails will spill right out.
The internal organs might have burst from the accumulated impact. That was a shame, but it was still the finest trophy the wolf had ever claimed.
Just as the wolf raised its claw to delicately place it against the belly—
Squelch.
The sound of a blade sinking into flesh echoed. It hadn't even touched him with its claws yet, so why?
The wolf’s bewildered gaze shifted downward. There, he saw the man, wearing a cold smile.
"...Ta-da."
Ian was thrusting his sword, now glowing with dense mana, straight into the beast's throat.
The wolf’s thoughts ground to a halt. He should be dead; it had checked multiple times. Neither breath nor heartbeat had been felt. He hadn't even twitched.
But the searing pain in its throat, the air that wouldn't enter its lungs no matter how hard it gasped, and the body that was rapidly failing to respond...
All of it told the beast that what it was seeing was reality. The wolf’s black eyes stared blankly, alternating between the man and the blade piercing its own neck.
The man, still smiling, grit his teeth and poured strength into the hand gripping the sword hilt.
"Psych, I'm actually alive."
And with a sickening squelch, the blade sank even deeper into the wolf’s throat.
Blood erupted like a fountain. Only then did the beast let out a belated howl. It was a thunderous sound that shook the forest, matching its massive size.
It was the pathetic scream of a dying beast, a prey caught by a hunter.