The thick forest was full of vibrant life, abuzz with chirping and the distant sound of a woodpecker. There was also the occasional howl in the background.

“We just need to be careful. Though we can't see them, they might also not notice us until we stumble upon them. Tread lightly, keep your ears wide open and stay close together,” Fleeting Time advised quietly. “Liss, use your tracking skills frequently.”

“Will do.”

They moved swiftly and silently, listening to the natural orchestra and watching out for signs, Lissome Shot up front, Carl right behind, then both healers and Looming Oak bringing up the rear. The woods looked peaceful and deserted, but they knew it was a false appearance.

They had been running at a steady pace allowing their stamina to recover as fast as they were spending it, since they each ate a ration before embarking. After good fifteen minutes they started wondering if maybe they scared all the wolves away, because all they found were a couple empty dens and a lot of shed black fur.

To Carl, who was readying himself for a vehemently furious battle, which might happen at any moment, this was quite taxing mentally. But he did not put his guard down – on the contrary, he was getting an ominous feeling deep down. All this stifling atmosphere resembled a familiar pattern …

“Oh no,” Lissome shot said plainly, stopping in her tracks.

“What?” Carl asked, looking in the same direction.

“We're dead,” the elven archer stated placidly, as if she lost all will to live.

“What?! There shouldn't be any dire wolves here!” Fleeting Time whispered in alarm, as softly as he could, but then he also became subdued.

“I'll keep them busy. You guys run,” Carl proclaimed calmly.

“We can't outrun them, brother Carl.” Fleeting Time smiled sadly.

“I'm going to disconnect … I'm sorry, I can't take that,” Lissome Shot apologized desolately.

“You do what you have to do,” Carl advocated in the same sedate manner, dropping his full backpack and drawing the knuckle dagger, an inferior mana potion in his right.

The punishment for hard disconnect was that the avatar would remain in place for at least 5 minutes depending on the circumstances, fainted, and would then disappear. Unless it got killed …

Within Carl's soul, an infernal battering ram was smashing into the bastion of his resolve.

He was awake.

And he was willing.

The steps he took were full of confidence, and still, every next one he took was more dignified and powerful.

His eyes were ablaze, gradually igniting with wrath.

His visage betrayed no reluctance, only contempt.

He downed the mana potion, then drew the battle karambit.

He broke into a dash, then into full sprint.

His giant enemy was right in front of him, black as the blackest night. Bigger than the lion, heavier too, and emanating limitless vitality. In its bloodshot eyes, there was only one desire – to rip Carl to shreds.

[Horrid Wolf] (common, evolved)

HP: 1 000

Behind it – prowlers, alphas, and an unknown throng of commons in the bushes.

Carl wasn't going to hide behind a tree. He wasn't going to resort to tricks.

A terrifying roar shook the entire forest.

A battle roar the wolves had never heard before.

The human and the beast pummeled into each other with absolute commitment.

Carl was wholly consumed by murderous intent.

Jarring Fist!

Arrest Bleeding!

The knuckle dagger got swallowed in the massive maw, and Carl could both hear and sense the blade shattering, at the same time as his bones gave in.

As he was walloped violently by the astounding momentum and pushed back, he got lifted off his feet, and found himself on a curved trajectory towards the ground with frightening impetus.

But he was ready for this.

Ripping Claw!

The neck got sundered right at the base of the skull, spraying blood in a magnificent scarlet fountain.

As Carl got hammered against the green undergrowth, he thoroughly felt the three hundred kilograms rolling over him with his compressed torso.

“Nooot yeeet!”

Scrambling to his feet in blatant disregard of his condition, he recovered the crushed left hand, flapping about on skin, muscle and tendons, still holding on to the remains of the knuckle dagger.

Forgetting himself completely, he surged at the rising nightmare.

“Moooooore!!”

The monstrous beast grabbed his left leg mid-air and he collapsed on its back, embracing it with his right and what was yet useful of his left. Both his tibia and fibula snapped like straws, producing loud cracks. But he couldn't care less.

Vicious Hook!

Unfamiliar with executing the stab with a knife held in hammer grip, Carl had nothing to lose. And the battle karambit didn't disappoint him, plunging itself all the way to the hilt. In a split second, an idea dawned upon him.

Ripping Claw!

Ripping Claw!

Ripping Claw!

Each time he summoned his mana, it rushed to the weapon and augmented its sharpness, helping it cut with increasing momentum. The jolted beast convulsed and jumped with an ear-piercing whimper, throwing Carl off of its back, and with him – the lethal tool in his hand.

“Eve–ry–thiiing!!!”

Landing on his left elbow, Carl supported himself on his right foot and hand, and burst forth with all he had left.

Vicious Hook!

He ferociously attacked the other side, while the monster momentarily turned its forlorn head to the harrowing wound, double-minded, unsure of which trauma was worse.

Ripping Claw!

Ripping Claw!

Ripping Claw!

The horrid head snapped right back at him, shutting itself on his hated right shoulder, which held the weapon that did it in.

Carl peered at the blood-red eyes, which looked right back at him.

Absent life.

“Congratulations! You have single-handedly defeated a deadly beast!”

“You have attained the honor of Heroic Spirit!”

“You should visit the Temple of Immortals at your nearest convenience.”

“You have been granted the title of Beast Slayer!”

“You should visit the City Hall administration at your nearest convenience.”

“Congratulations! You have conquered the black wolves' den!”

“You should visit the Expedition Association administration at your nearest convenience.”

“Congratulations! Your Ripping Claw has reached the intermediate level!”

The column of translucent notifications together with a series of audible system prompts distracted Carl for an instant.

“Huh?”

“Stop! The bones, mend!” he commanded in his mighty voice.

Fleeting Time got startled by the powerful outburst, but he didn't dawdle. He aborted the healing that he only just started and immediately grabbed Carl's left hand, panicking slightly, but eventually getting it together.

Carl stood up on his right leg, then turned with a voraciously ruthless expression at the prowler that was standing right next to him, baring its fangs madly.

They just stared each other down for a few seconds, until Looming Oak arrived in large strides with a battle cry. Carl noticed the change in the prowler's attitude as if it was unfolding before him in slow motion. He shifted his weight at the same time as the animal did, and he was on his way to intercept it before it even leaped at the man charging it with a shield.

“Brother Carl, I'm not done yet!”

The prowler tried to redirect itself at Carl mid-movement, or maybe it was preparing to defend, but its momentum was already set. It was so fast on its spring-like feet, that its jaws departed ahead of Carl's shoulder's arrival.

Vicious Hook!

Ramming the beast, Carl again used the stabbing attack with hammer grip, finding the underbelly.

Ripping Claw!

Combined with the motion of the airborne wolf, the blade only left its flesh after cleaving the abdomen wide open.

Only now did Carl notice the familiar soothing cold in his leg, unaware of how long had it already been there. Falling on his face after bumping into the huge lupine, Carl supported himself with his left elbow and right fist, rising once again without delay, and facing two more prowlers.

“Brother Carl, stand still!”

He gazed at the two enraged lupines with his fiery eyes, ready to receive them whenever they decided to assault him. Behind him, he could hear Looming Oak hammering morbidly at flesh and bone with frantic grunts, to the accompaniment of agonizing lament. The man must have used some strength buff, because he withstood the disabled animal crashing into his shield, despite it weighing about as much as he did, and he was quick to raise his weapon on it.

“It's splintered, this is the best I can do!”

Fleeting Time finished mending the left arm, but he wasn't given a chance to fix the shin. Both prowlers moved at once, and Carl was their sole target.

He squeezed the grip of his ruined knuckle dagger tightly, ignorant of the pain. As he accelerated forward on his only working leg to meet the left opponent, he heard a 'thwish' right beside him, and he saw an arrow leaving pale-blue traces in the air lodging itself deeply into the neck of the other one, which had to turn its head towards him slightly, as it wasn't attacking in a straight line due to its companion being in the way.

Jarring Fist!

Anticipating that the wolf would try to bite down on the hand, Carl altered the angle of attack midway, lowering its trajectory. He was rewarded with the sensation of breaking teeth, albeit at the cost of likewise breaking bone. But the course was set.

Ripping Claw!

His favorite move didn't fail him. The neck was always exposed, and it was always so close, that his 5 agility didn't matter. Several centimeters up or down didn't make much of a difference.

A satisfying splatter of blood preceded their collision, but the beast wasn't dead yet. Unfortunately for it, it now lied at Fleeting Time's feet, who was armed with a skull-crushing scepter …

Helped up by the old cleric, Carl saw a robust man looming above the other prowler with a bloodied war hammer lifted high. The desperate animal, which had three arrows sticking out from it, didn't understand the concept of inertia …

Looking around, Carl noticed the encirclement was close to complete, and more and more common black wolves, with a few albinos mixed in, were pouring out from the surrounding bushes. There was also several alphas nearby, all of them advancing warily.

“Brother Carl, do you need another mana potion?” Merciful Breeze offered energetically with an extended, violently shaking hand. Her brave front could have completely fooled Carl otherwise.

“Mhm, thanks,” Carl accepted in a tranquil tone, as if being given a snack while lying comfortably on a sofa. His mana pool was nearly empty, as he had lost a lot on Arrest Bleeding, and he could feel his mind becoming heavy.

Fleeting Time, who likewise gulped a mana potion, possibly a second one already, was now hastily tending to Carl's broken leg, having given up on the wrecked left forearm, which Merciful Breeze now healed to at least make it stop bleeding and hurting as much.

Carl stood quietly in the center of the battlefield, in the middle of a giant heap of black fur, watching intently. The wolves were visibly shaken, and very few were baring their fangs or tried creeping up on the team. While the numerous alphas circled around looking for an opportunity, so did Looming Oak, showing his readiness and bloodthirst.

“Do you think you can do something with my left arm, Uncle Time? I could kill a few more before they run.”

The rattled cleric gaped for a moment, then burst out with loud and sincere laughter, having even a bemusing effect on the wolves. He was overcome with awe towards this boundless confidence.

“Brother Carl, I did the best I could, but your leg is no longer straight, and this left arm is just hopeless.” He shook his head.

“Can you at least glue it together so it can last one punch?”

“This … don't take me wrong, but I would rather spend my remaining mana on healing our bleeding wounds …” Fleeting Time said apologetically.

“You're right, it's a waste of mana. No matter.”

With this, Carl was off, limping upon each second step, but no less dignified. The whole team looked at him with unending admiration, as he casually approached three alphas, like they were some vegetables ripe for plucking.