Wolves of the Snowbound Albrin Forest
The wolves that primarily inhabited Albrin Forest, blanketed in snow, were extraordinarily agile. Wild beasts long exposed to mana, their bodies studded with eye-catching blue crystals.
Rowen spotted the wolf pack. Their pure white fur made them nearly invisible against the falling snow. But those blue crystals betrayed their presence.
Slash!
With a light visualization of rune language, Ice Blades materialized in both his hands. The frosty ice blades left blue afterimages in their wake. Their shape mirrored Abel's assassin dagger.
One wolf flexed its thick leg muscles as if to show off. But Rowen was no slouch when it came to muscle. His sturdy frame, honed since childhood, was rock-solid.
With the whistle of air friction, Rowen's body shot forward. His speed rivaled a lightly shot arrow. He felt the cold snowflakes and air brushing his cheeks. Not a bad sensation.
The chill pain drowned out the fear of facing multiple foes.
"Fast!"
Foolish as it sounded, he couldn't help but marvel at his own speed. Rowen wasn't a fool, but his reaction right now was utterly idiotic.
Sixteen years since his reincarnation. Aside from spars with Arahan, he hadn't felt fear. He couldn't hide his astonishment at this sensation awakening after so long.
Familiar yet unfamiliar—a strange feeling. Amid this odd sensation, Rowen swung his ice blades.
Schwick!
"Yelp!"
"Yeah, that's the feeling."
Rowen sliced through one wolf effortlessly. Blood sprayed from the clean cross-section of its flying body. Red droplets splattered onto the pristine snow. The beast let out a short whine as it met its end.
The watching pack hesitated, as if gripped by fear. Rowen marveled at his dual blades, which cut clean to the bone. He'd expected it, but feeling it firsthand was different.
The wolves stared straight at Rowen. Rowen stared right back. In that moment, their emotions clashed.
Sensing the threat to their lives, the wolves turned tail and fled on all fours. But Rowen wasn't about to just watch.
One wolf would have been plenty for six people to eat, but what Rowen intended was something else entirely.
"Mana Zone."
He casually invoked the rune language. Blue runes arrayed around his body. In an instant, he spotted the wolves hiding among the dense trees with his naked eyes.
Mana Zone was basic magic. The fundamentals every mage learned first. It detected enemies' mana, making it visible to the eye—perfect for finding hidden foes.
A normal Mana Zone might spot two or three at most. But Rowen's was different.
Unlike his past life, where he'd fragmented mana to its limits, this Mana Zone was an advanced detection spell fueled by his ferocious mana. He could clearly see the wolves zipping about with eerie whines.
They were still running. They had no idea about Rowen's speed.
If the wolves ran, Rowen charged.
Schwick!
Another downward slash felled the largest wolf, spilling its blood. Rowen took a step back, twisting to dodge the gushing spray. Getting blood on his clothes would be a disaster—no laundry, no changing in this frozen hell.
Spare clothes would freeze solid in this intensifying cold. Even the robe he wore now couldn't afford to get dirty.
Witnessing the blood spray, the pack veered sharply, sliding to a halt on the snow. Realizing escape was futile, they bared their fangs at Rowen instead.
They knew it too. They'd die for sure. Nature's law couldn't be defied. The weak fell to the strong.
Just like Rian in his past life.
The entire pack bared their teeth without exception. Rowen admired the sight.
'If we're gonna die anyway, might as well go down fighting, huh.'
Cute.
Rowen sneered. As always, his core spun. Daily maintenance kept his mana nucleus pristine. Overflowing mana circulated perfectly under his control—no rampage, no impurities.
Blue ice coated his arms. Frost and ice friction ramped up the intensity. It was cold, but not to Rowen. The mana felt hot instead.
Like quenching red-hot iron in cold water. The searing mana was tempered by Attribute Granting, dialing the temperature just right. The pleasant heat thrilled him.
Not cooped up in the study training—this was real action. His first time unleashing this much mana in actual combat.
His past life made him curse. Sure, that life birthed the current Rowen—an undeniable fact. But comparing mana quantities? It was infuriating.
If he'd had no mana back then, maybe he wouldn't have held out hope. Hope bred pain. No hope shown from the start, no false expectations.
Rowen was pissed. Twenty years grinding to boost mana in his past life? Utter bullshit. Total waste!
Even his comrade, the great mage Mio, had told him to give up. Yet he'd trusted Uba, that muscle-headed pig, and headed to the Soul Spring. Getting royally rejected by the Spirit King? Indescribable rage.
And now that Spirit King was his ancestor. Fate? If so, he'd thank it.
He couldn't return to Snowfall yet. But one day, he'd dive into the Soul Spring and kick that Spirit King's ass!
"So."
Hummm—!
"Let's wrap this up."
His core spun, refined mana enveloping the air. Sparks crackled from the wolves' blue crystals, lightning lashing out.
Rowen casually conjured an ice shield, detonating it mid-air.
"Grrr...."
"Oh? Barking now?"
"Yelp!"
"Decided. You're breakfast."
"Yelp?"
"Yeah, yeah. An honor, right? Good boy."
The terrified frost wolf lunged with a thunderbolt. But Rowen was faster.
Schwick!
Rowen became the wind! Applying movement speed magic to his whole body, runes swirled in the air. In a blink, at wind-like speed, his left hand gripped the wolf's severed head.
Splat!
Thin blood and shredded flesh dripped from the neck stump. Rowen looked satisfied. The remaining wolves ground their teeth warily, hunkered low on the snow.
Furious over lost family, yet powerless against overwhelming strength. Rowen clicked his tongue at the sight.
It mirrored their own helplessness against Arkanthia's invasion—unable to save Kadan.
Maybe because it felt so similar to himself. Rowen let the slinking wolves slip away unnoticed.
No point now. But sudden emotions he'd never felt before swirled up.
Venting? No. Demons were his past life's outlet; none now.
He'd killed for food. One would have sufficed, honestly. But he needed to test his power sometime.
Sorry, wolves, but unavoidable. No guilt.
To survive this forest, they had to die anyway. Harsh, but his group needed sustenance.
Letting them go stemmed from that abrupt emotional shift. He didn't understand it himself.
They weren't kids to spare from the start. Just... those eyes mirrored his own too closely.
The eyes he saw in the mirror every day in his past life. His reflection in the icicle under the branches. That wolf looked just like him.
Complicated. Just a normal hunt, yet...
Long time since his last? Who knows. Rowen halted his core's spin. Overflowing mana receded. Mana light swirled, shattering the Ice Blades into fragments. Floating runes dissolved.
Sorting his tangled feelings, Rowen eyed the three slain wolves. Then slapped his cheek hard.
"Get it together."
Too many useless thoughts. Just wolves. Sorry, but necessary for survival.
He kept slapping until his cheeks swelled.
*
After all that, his head finally cleared. Time passed, and the frost wolves looked like food again. The earlier turmoil was long gone.
Karin came scampering over, face etched with worry. Rowen could guess what she'd say.
"Oppa, you hurt?"
"It's nothing."
"Then... you got hit?"
"...Isn't that the same thing?"
"Anyway!"
Karin eyed the wolves Rowen dragged in. Her gaze locked on the blue mana crystals.
Mana stones. Key ingredient for mana potions. Sometimes used in weapon crafting too.
"Hahaha, what's with your face?"
"Shut up. Mind your own business."
"What business here? This damn forest goes on forever."
"At least start a fire. It went out."
"I don't know how."
Rowen smacked his forehead at Cain's reply. He sighed. What incompetence!
"Worse than a caveman...!"
"What? Caveman? Wanna get hit?"
"It's the truth. Even cavemen made fire."
"Can you do it? Huh?"
"I always lit it. Those eyes just for show?"
Even their bickering was no contest. Rowen hoped Cain would be useful someday. Please.
Sighing, he restacked the damp firewood. Then snapped his fingers.
Whoosh!
Runes formed over the wood, igniting flames. Smoke rose as the fire caught.
Rowen turned to the prepped meat chunks. A thick branch at eye level—perfect. Luckily, Arahan's pack had meat hooks.
He drained and skewered a hunk. Miyabi tilted her head curiously.
"You're good at that."
"...Yeah."
"Where'd you learn? No such lessons in class, as far as I know..."
"Saw it in a book from Father's study."
Rowen cut her off hastily.
"Remembered it and gave it a try."
"Too perfect for a first time."
"Just your imagination. Why would I bother?"
"...Right, sure."
The makeshift spit from whittled branch was crude, but fine for eating. Arahan and Lucius still weren't back. But Rowen sensed their return soon—no more sounds of explosions, slashes, crushes.
Obvious who finished first without asking.
"Extra vicious today."
Absolutely not saying Arahan. Never.