His clap resounded out, as if it were the only sound allowed in this forest. Light came, was it an angel’s appearance? Grisla’s scream was firm, direct. Responding to its master’s command, the barrier shimmered to life, denying all who dare encroach upon this designated land of sacred ground. The wolves barreling for him had little care for whatever stood in their way, be it manmade or otherwise. The first to put his clan’s barrier to the test ended up breaking its neck at impact—the wolf charged headfirst into a wall triple the density the mortal world’s best material.

A second, wasn’t as unfortunate as his pack member and only suffered a numbing crack on its head. They didn’t care, for it tried right again just to repeat more of the same. This was good, and this was bad. Grisla’s face lit up.

It works! I would’ve cursed the clan on my dying breath had these things fizzled out on me, guess twenty-year old talismans don’t lose their potency after all! But…

As they kept smacking against the barrier, Grisla’s expression darkened.

Intelligent to band together; not intelligent to see a futile road. I don’t have forever to sit here, and I haven’t been able to write up the script for the barrier to work autonomously.

When the barrier’s active, Grisla has the option to inject his Juva into the formation to strengthen the walls, if need be, with the obvious consequence of the barrier requiring more of his power, power that he doesn’t have in abundant quantities to supply. Had he been a cultivator at the peak of Juva Solidification, it wouldn’t be a joke for him to sleep whilst he powered it, with a lossless quality that he’s providing while awake. Differences in advancement, closes or opens the doors available to him for survival, Grisla noted that.

Even worse, Grisla’s attention couldn’t stop flickering over to a sole wolf, whose behavior was most strange. Instead of charging ahead like the others, it stood. Staring at him. Not a peep or howl came from it under the noise of its wolf pack killing themselves to get through. It was unnerving, to say the least. Its head craned in different angles like an artist, taking a stroll under the moonlight round Grisla’s barrier. Sniffing at the dirt, glances to its determined and weakened brethren. The wolf took another stare at him.

The panic was at a head’s start.

If they went at him unceasingly, no doubt he will be mauled here, in the darkness, without his Juva to help him. From where he came, the path was open, however he had no expectations of outrunning the pack of them, especially with the peculiar one storing its energy. Because of that--

Hey… hey, what’re you doing! Stop!

That wolf at a leisured prowl; hard stare made its move to stop. At his blind spot, where his sole escape route lay. It had no intentions on moving again on impulse. The wolf’s silverfish eyes spoke nothing, yet it felt as if, in a far reach, that the wolf was smiling at him. Instinct spoke to Grisla that he would perish without anything worth burying.

Now the barrier was a concern, for the next few rams brought about cracks on its surface, cracks that took more time to heal with every impact.

This’s a battle of attrition, that I will lose. Even if I keep the two at bay, that other one will certainly take the opportunity to tear out my throat. Direct combat’s a no-go. Running’s a no-go.

As the sweat rolled down his face Grisla had made a choice. There’s no point to keeping up a barrier if the end’s decided. The winter’s wind blew through, in casual friendliness, lifting up Grisla’s stolen furs, and the wolves’. Time was at a crawl for Grisla Orlith, his hands separated, the wall fizzled out to nothingness, the wolves, like the other one, pounced at him with energy Grisla thought they spent. Death waved from inside their maws.

A pathetic roll threw him aside, one hand in his pack, same hand out and carrying a new card—a nondescript canister which blew open at his finger’s pull on a trigger. An outpouring of smoke, a giant’s frosty breath billowing to all directions. In the distraction, Grisla’s feet knocked pebbles and short snow out of its way. Running to wherever his speed took him. His sight was unnecessary in checking his rear, he heard them, felt their bloodlust on his neck. Grisla did say running wasn’t an option, so…

“First strike: Earth fears the master!” He delivered an uppercut to the closest on his heels. Its whimper would make him sympathize, if they weren’t in the business of trying to eat him alive. In the time it took to hit one, another mouth snapped at his forearm and he pulled back in time but not unscathed, fangs putting a nasty scrape on him.

The wolf who was hit was back up on its hind legs before a breath. With that information Grisla took to running again. It’s like I did nothing to it! That was a killing blow! Grisla thought. On the next tree he ran towards, he reinforced himself—wrist to his knuckle’s tip, dipped in Juva, pummeled through a tree in a clean motion and didn’t stop to watch it fall behind him. A measure that’ll buy him a second.

Not one, how about two?

He punched another, then a second, another after that; keeping up the pace till the pack spent a moment of time always avoiding obstacles behind him. Though, just like the barrier this too couldn’t be maintained indefinitely. As of now he was trying to conserve as much Juva as he could between every punch, in that endeavor he cut his powering of his fist between every gap he had to sprint till another tree came. It saved a miniscule amount, but a miniscule is far better than none.

Eyebrows furrowed; can’t shake the despair running aside him, no matter his efforts. But keep on he must.

His physiology was tethered to the limits of his mortal body, his teenage physique in addition. Meanwhile he was laughably in the process of trying to outrun creatures who excel in this, they were nothing but overjoyed in the activity. The sensation of their alpha—of that he has no doubt—drilling a hole in his back through its stare alone was unchanged. He needed a real plan, and fast. More than half of the talismans he had were back at the camp, which he now had no idea of making his way back to even if in the possibility he loses them in the chase.

Maybe, just in a small chance—I kill the two remaining, then pray to the heavens I can escape the third.

Possible, albeit unlikely.

The terrain isn’t doing him any favors. Should this chase continue without any visual obstructions other than a tree he fells here and there, the end is only a matter of time. Grisla couldn’t help it, looking over his shoulder for a hint. What came to him was a feeling he had swallowed a spoonful of ash, for that wolf, that alpha, was gone. Where?

That question didn’t take long to be answered. The alpha’s powerful muscles shot him ahead of his pack ages ago, and out of Grisla’s detection range. Skidding to a stop in front of Grisla, eyes smiling still. “This is where you die.” It spoke to him, wordlessly.

“No!” Grisla screamed, “You’re out of your mind if I’m punching my ticket here!”

The wolf’s expression was unchanged, however the maw it revealed brought out the strings of saliva awaiting to butter up their fresh kill. Assured in the inevitable it made not a twitch to claim what’s his, as his prey generously sprinted toward the serrated things called his fangs.

A sneer came about Grisla’s face, “How about this?” wrist flicking out, a thing reflecting the moon’s light flew. Too close to dodge, the knife struck the alpha’s shoulder. Snarling, and just about to tear out the knife stuck in his hide when—

Grisla’s hands made a sign. At the end of his throwing knife, wrapped in string, was one of the few talismans he had left. There wasn’t enough to form a barrier and there wouldn’t be any time for it, though he had a risky idea to use the same principles for a barrier but apply it with the idea of instead of isolating a section he could create a miniature barrier around a subject, restricting a foe’s movement with it.

Turning around, he tossed another at the Two-star, who dodged, but on his dodge another knife came to strike at its new location. Turning the chase from a three-on-one, to a one-on-one. I like those odds, especially with you, One-star. He grinned. Grisla’s free hand was dedicated to keeping the bind up, which wouldn’t last very long, as per example, the alpha sapped the most of his Juva to keep him held down.

No time to dawdle, you die here!

The One-star knew it was alone but couldn’t care less. A change in circumstance made not a difference, telling when the wolf charged at Grisla like his kill was secured. Being one-handed put him at a severe disadvantage. There were no illusions about the demand happening on his mind as he essentially had to maintain the binding on the other two while also fighting a rabid wolf consecutively. Both scenarios drain tremendous amounts of Juva, and if he doesn’t dispatch this one on the spot…

He ducked; the wolf flew overhead to snap at air, in the meantime he let his free hand spear the beast through the abdomen. Methodically, while his hand was burrowed into the wolf, he grabbed whatever organ his fingertips touched and brought his hand—and something with it, out to the cold night. Tossing it and the weight on his shoulder to the side. The One-star’s dying cries incensed the other two, and Grisla howled as they did when he increased the Juva output.

Looking to the sole Two-star, his face glowered.

Two-star… probably the equivalent of a three, maybe four cycle at the Solidification stage.

It wasn’t unheard of to fight above your weight class, or in the world of cultivators, your advancement. Rare, and not worth the effort spent, as the divide in power’s usually too much to cross. Unless you had exceptional talent or exceptional tools at hand, you were better off pleading for mercy rather than further antagonizing such a person anyhow. With Shade Beasts it was a different flavor of risk, there can be no reasoning with such creatures, them and their ephemeral desires and impulses.

Grisla’s hand flipped, and the spell keeping the Two-star bound dropped. In knowledge of this, the creature bolted for him just as the One-star did, this time enraged beyond all belief. Seeing this, Grisla laughed, “It’ll be the same for the people who care about me, there’ll be no quarter for those who dare take me away from those who matter. Shade Beasts or…”

Clansmen.

Instead of a leap, this one decided to tear him apart in sections. It lunged for a leg, Grisla’s decision was to retreat for space. Its hind legs served all purposes for its development, for it was beyond the speed of any creature he’d seen. Han would be outran, Bei Mei would be outran, a thing this extraordinary could be surpassed in speed by the chosen, of that he has no doubt. But, without them Grisla was confident they were unmatched in that trait by anyone in Juva Solidification, which did not bode well for his survival past this Two-star.

What Shade Beasts of this level lacked that he did… was—

Absolute cunning, and—my dashing looks, of course.

Grisla’s hand launched another knife of his, and its aim was true. Stabbing into one of those hind legs they were so proud of. He made to go apply the binding but struggled. His core was near its limit. He had no means to maintain a second restriction on the two wolves at the same time again, and if he forced it all his Juva will be sapped, the restriction will collapse, then no amount of tricks will save him.

“I just need a second, please!” He did it by force of will; making the binding again. At the Two-star’s freezing, Grisla’s body—his soul, barreled out in a raging fury as he slammed his fist at a bullseye called the wolf’s skull. Fist hitting stone, there was no time to cry out, so he hit the beast again. And again, and again. Until its fury whittled down to a pleading whimper. Denied mercilessly with a boot to finalize it.

Four wolves; three dead. There wasn’t time to catch a breath, for the alpha… was silent. Before, it shouted just as his companion did at the slaying of his One-star. However, it stared. Just… stared. Grisla’s core was done, and with a feeling of anguish bouncing inside, his hands dropped the restriction. The Three-star was free.

Man, and beast did nothing, but stare.