Finesse check made!

Twice, Jack nearly slipped on his butt, padded though it was with the quilted aketon and pants his mother had crafted for him, multiple layers of cross-stitched fabric surprisingly effective for catching arrowheads and sword thrusts, though it's primary function had been serving as padding for the Elemental Armor his masterwork spell could only summon piece-meal, Jack having to reserve a portion of his mana for each piece of nearly indestructible armor he wore.

Which wouldn't have been nearly enough to save him from a torn throat or being eaten alive, had the beasts swarmed him, which they were a half-second away from doing by the time he had crashed out the entrance in a dead sprint, gasping for breath, and nearly falling into his own pit trap. But adrenaline kept him jolted upright on his feet as he caught sight of the massive shadow-wolves that were as much puma as canine, at that very moment growling his way with feral hate and gathering the courage to leap over the shallow clay-lined pit radiating an awful sulfur stench from the still very much caustic acid bubbling within.

It was a pit easily cleared by the first of the two Shadow wolves among a dozen snarling glaring beasts daring the jump, though the second didn't quite make it past the wooden stakes Jack had jutting at an upwards angle it came crashing against. And although it didn't actually pierce the supernaturally tough hide, it was enough to send the creature tumbling into the caustic brew, eliciting a horrific howl as it began to thrash and sizzle.

Which did nothing to stop the perfectly timed leap of the roaring monstrosity about to crash into Jack and tear out his throat.

"Aqua Effusorium!" Jack screamed, hand jutting out to channel a fire-hose's worth of high pressure water right into the snout of the monstrosity opening its jaws in perfect time to tear out Jack's throat...

Before being knocked off trajectory, yelping in the air as it's spasming twisting form smashed into another of the wooden posts before splashing into the cauldron of caustic death.

Jack immediately leaped back as the splash caught half a dozen of the now yelping wolves, the pack backing up only slightly, a full dozen pairs of eyes glaring at jack with inconceivable hate as the air rang with the shrieks of their brethren. Their predatory gazes were those of the wolves of old, before being hunted to near extinction, or allowed to survive in the presence of man only as near mindless child-like puppy versions of their former selves.

Jack shivered, icy tendrils of dread racing up and down his spine.

Feeling the weight of alien thoughts, and detecting the tiniest flash of a soul that would happily crush his own.

"Gifts of the mother, grace the hands of her son."

Jack whispered the words to a grey witch's blessing, feeling the sudden comforting weight of Silver Sheers in his hand as he chanted aloud the words to a verse he only now recalled mastering in dream-like visions of a childhood far richer in horror and wonder than he could have ever imagined, just a season ago. For the lazy image of a boy wiling away all his summer evenings rereading tomes he had memorized long ago had been the gentle mask his mother had helped him fashion to hide memories of a far grimmer sort.

A mask ruthlessly torn free when he had been forced to accept all of who he was and had ever been. Both the last-born son of an infamous elven witch whom he loved with all his heart, as much as he had once been the idealistic offspring of AI programmers and gamers desperate to save the world. Or, at least, the tiniest fragment of a universe exploding to oblivion like a firecracker in god's sky, using the final moments of one dying universe's Big Rip to fuel an AI matrix so incredibly sophisticated and powerful, it was capable of reforging their reality anew in the quantuum flux of infinite possibility, resonating within at least one of the countless billions upon billions of universes overlapping their own, using the rules of reality programmed into his favorite game to reforge the realm he now called his home.

Earth-shattering revelations, literally, that had shaken him to his core when he first truly began to understood his origins. The knowledge that he really had lived countless lives before, just a handful of weeks ago.

Insights that would do nothing to safeguard his fragile life as the remaining dozen Shadow Wolves snapped and howled and snarled in a world that was every bit as real as the Earth he had forever left, now glaring at him with inconceivable hate as the two drowning wolves gave off final desperate howls before their acid-pitted bodies, now little more than sacks of disintegrating meat at this point, sunk under the surface of the sulfuric brew.

But the spirit sheers he held in his right hand just might make the difference between a horrific death, and surviving at least a couple more minutes.

But the cold-eyed and canny alpha, roaring his soldiers into compliance, was no fool.

Gazing at silver sheers Jack was surprised his foe could even sense, let alone understand their significance. And the crude silver strands of the monstrous alpha's soul, radiating terror, fear, and despair, a cord which hadn't slithered to infect Jack like a Mind Mage's would, but instead began to shimmer into existence between them as Jack fought just to withstand the crushing weight of his foe's soul-crushing presence... disappeared with a sudden jolt.

Just an instant before Jack's sheers, whistling through the air with all the speed, grace, and surprising power that training for a solid month with the Viking style migration era blade at his hip had given him, could cleave through the silvery strands of domination seeking to freeze his soul.

You have failed to Snip Shadow Pack Leader's Spirit Cord.

Shadow Pack Leader has sealed off his mind from you!

You are no longer under the effect of presence debuffs.

Jack felt a cold chill in his gut as the massive shadow wolf roared and snarled, snapping its teeth at Jack from what was really just a small pool that would certainly dilute to insignificance, if he dared use his Water Spout spell to force any more of those beasties within.

Because at the end of the day, despite having trained diligently and grown in so many ways so quickly, he was still just a level zero idiot daring to tussle with massive beasts far above his weight class. He was completely outmatched. And were it not for luck, diligent use of tricks and tactics, and having trained up a handful of spells to what was an absurd degree for someone who had learned magic so recently, he had no doubt that his foes would have already killed him.

Many times over.

A flaw that the massive Alpha glaring at him and preparing to jump would be more than happy to correct.

And just as primal terror of his own impending death flooded through Jack so badly he would have bolted like a rabbit to his certain doom even without the crushing weight of his foe's psyche, he was struck by sudden insight, squinting against the brilliant golden shafts of sunlight spearing through the thick foliage, recalling just how effective torrents of potency-boosted Bloodflame had been against these wolf titans. For all that it had started off as the most mundane of first level spells.

Not anymore.

Not by far.

But that would do nothing to push wolves back that were now preparing to leap once more.

The would simply crash into him, covered in liquid flame that might burn them both.

And wind? Yes. A wind gust might get one, perhaps two, and his blood bee might catch a third before snapping jaws tore it to pieces. Maybe. But they wouldn't see it, might not sense it, and wouldn't be intimidated by it.

By the time one was sent hurtling to its doom, two others might have torn out Jacks throat.

Heart racing with terror and exhilaration both, Jack gazed at the wolves preparing to leap and laughed. Laughed as he sensed that the most basic rules of feeding a flame, whether fire pit or jet engine, would prove themselves equally applicable to the laws of magic as well.

"Ventus Effusorium! Ignis Sanguis!" Jack screamed.

And Jack was too busy desperately moderating the howling wind gusting through his soul, and the hot flames devouring him from the inside out to properly pay attention to the abrupt howls and cries of the horde of wolves so eager to tear out his throat.

Before he pulled back the grip on the runaway spell that was killing him with a desperate shout, stumbling to his knees, heart pounding in his chest as he collapsed on his back, biting back tears of frustrated exhaustion, knowing death was now just seconds away.

Before forcing himself back to his dizzy feet with exhaustion as two indisputable facts blared through his hammering headache.

The first was that he had blazed through absolutely all his mana in just seconds.

The second was that the Shadow Wolves were gone.

Congratulations! You have managed to save versus imminent destruction, boosting and combining your spells in ways far beyond any rank 1 enchantment!

You are suffering from depletion headache and exhaustion.

Wind Gust is now Apprentice Rank 2!

Jack forced himself to focus, to quiet the trembling exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him, desperately using Arcane Perception and infravision both, to make sure the coast was truly clear.

He winced at the stench of burnt fur and flesh as his brain finally registered the charred lumps of ash on the far side of his acid pit, nearby vegetation and shadow wolves having suffered the same fate, Jack groaning at the sight of more than a couple smoking patches of forest ground.

He knew what he had to do, but was too exhausted even to move, refusing to cast his Lesser Healing spell until his mana had crawled back up as high as it could, with over a third of it locked into the protective spells even now guarding him in the form of Crimson Shield, Blood Armor, and Blood Bee. It was why the only armor he wore right then was his helm, cuirass, and a single gauntlet that melded into a vambrace protecting his entire right forearm, leaving most of his mana free to spend on spells that had already saved his life countless times.

And for all that spell costs were spelled out so cleanly, his mana still behaved very much like a runner's stamina. No matter what the numbers showed, he could push himself especially hard when the situation demanded it, just like he could if jogging at what he thought a strong pace, before having to sprint for his life. He might then need minutes to recover, but a good chunk would come back very very fast, the rest taking up to maybe half an hour to come back in full. As for damage? He couldn't help but flash a still tired smile as he noted just how much damage his Adept Rank 3 Bloodflame variant was doing compared to the basic flame jet he had first learned, just a couple months ago. Over 1000% more damage. It was incredible. Glorious. Absurd.

And a bullet would still be more effective, except at short range, when he was ideally blasting someone's face or throat, where critical damage multipliers would result in massive overkill. Just the way he liked it. But against an opponent faster than he, savvier than he, who ducked and weaved, keeping his head away from Jack's flames... he feared the results would be far less in his favor. It was all about finesse and timing, more a short range arcane weapon than a useful long-ranged spell.

But when he had somehow combined it with Wind Gust... it had knocked him out as if he had ran a full half mile at a sprint.

And the results had been nothing short of spectacular.

Jack gave a tired chuckle, feeling so very much like a warrior having to measure his stamina in real life... as well as emphasizing how damned vital a high mana pool was, and how very, very much he'd love to level up and pour all his points into mana.

He chuckled at the thought.

Knowing, as he leaned back against the chilly stone and fought not to slump into an exhausted stupor, that just surviving long enough to forge a class he could live with for the next hundred or more years would itself be a bit of a miracle.

"Jack!"

He jolted awake with a gasp, coughing from the scent of smoke, eyes bolting all around before realizing he had indeed fallen into an exhausted stupor... but not before being savvy enough to at least place several warding and warning runes by the entrance.

He frowned at the grey haze of smoke, but it seemed the fires he had set had only smoldered, easy enough to put out with a couple applications of the thankfully cheap to cast Water Spout, mana easily recouped in seconds, as if he had done no more than jog 50 yards.

Feeling the cold weight of predators gazing at his back the whole time, but seeing absolutely nothing, no matter how fast he turned around. Even his infravision sensed nothing more than owls hidden in the trees.

Yet the tingle crawling up and down his spine was unmistakable.

He took a deep breath, knowing he should take advantage of the lull, and leave immediately.

But something compelled him to look one last time within the winding corridors of the cave.

Jack hissed, hating the compulsion he felt, the desperate need to dare folly, now searching for something more precious to him than anything else he could imagine.

He frowned, knowing the feelings weren't his own. But when he realized what was at stake, or at least, what had once been at stake... he shook his head and continued making his way down the damp stone corridors, just past the kill-sight of three more of those monsters, and as far as he had dared to go before.

Yet now he forced himself to go just a bit deeper into the warren.

For the sake of a precious prize he knew had long since been lost.

The fragile life of a child.

For long seconds he forced himself down what seemed abandoned corridors, for all that they had once rang with guttural growls and the angry shouts of rough-voiced men fighting for their lives... and the desperate cries a family in peril.

A father's horse shouts.

A mothers desperate plea for heaven's mercy

The panicked shrieks of a child.

Jack's gut clenched, heart pounding far louder than the light jog truly warranted, turning a corridor to behold the final chamber of the caverns.

For a heartbeat, it was awash in screams and hot blood.

Now? Nothing. Nothing save limestone walls that might, or might not, have been bathed in horrific crimson months or years before... and a massive pile of bones.

No doubt serving as the refuse pit of an entire colony of Shadow Wolves which could be coming back at any moment, and not for the first time, Jack thought he was a fool for even daring to come this far.

Before his eyes caught a glimmer of light reflecting off the luminescent green moss above his head. Or perhaps it was magic. Fate. Or destiny itself, as his trembling hand reached through cracked bones and ancient dried dung to find the source of that glitter.

A scratched and dung-spattered locket of gold.

Congratulations! You have completed Part 1 of the Quest: Axel's Plea!

Inkeeper Axel Brightgrain's children and grandchildren have gone missing! He received a ransom note from bandits and didn't hesitate to gather the fortunes demanded. But no follow-up note was ever received! He fears the worst, and has cried out to the heavens for justice!

You have discovered the final resting place of Inkeeper Axel Brightgrain's descendants! Return the locket now in your possession to receive your reward and activate the follow-up quest: Axel's Justice!

"You're damn right I will." Jack gaze the locket a tight squeeze before slipping it in his pouch... and fleeing the death-trap of a cave just as fast as he could. And the next thirty minutes of his life were the longest he could recall, as he fled limestone cavern and ancient forest both, heightened perception making undead horrors and snarling wolves out of rustling branches and the play of light and shadow all around... yet a lurch and a panicked heartbeat later, and the rustling branches revealed themselves, the furtive stalking predators he caught a glimpse of no more than forest foxes as startled by his presence as he was of them. And of actual undead glaring at him with their maddened yellow eyes... he caught no sign of at all.

For all that he could still feel the fiery eyes of Shadow Wolves locked upon their prey the entire time he was racing for the road at what was closer to a panicked run than he'd ever admit. He didn't breathe easy until he had finally broken from the cover of the forest, and was hiking along the road proper, his heart buoyed by the sight of lush fields as far as the eye could see, as he left the forest behind. Prime farmland filled with bountiful crops alternating with acres of lush green grass trimmed low by sheep, and no sign of any wolves anywhere. Just a slow moving wagon making its way along the hardpacked road, filled to bursting with sacks of grain.

With a spring in his step, Jack allowed his crimson shield to fade as he took up a brisk walk, eager to catch up with the wagon just ahead.