As way, Yuan, Bai, and Nero's dreams and ambitions danced like shadows in my mind, my steps had silently carried me toward my goal. The dusty path crunched softly beneath my feet, the rustle of sparse bushes in the wind mingling with the distant howls of wolves echoing from the hills. The air was heavy with the scent of dry grass and damp earth, laced with a faint metallic tang—blood, perhaps from a fresh kill. Over the past weeks, while clearing the wolf surge, I'd noticed a pattern in their movements. When fleeing, their claws tore through the earth, always running north, as if an invisible thread pulled them that way. With my enhanced intellect, reading these tracks was child's play; every crushed blade of grass, every broken twig, was part of a story. These tracks led to a cave at the foot of a rocky hill. That cave had to be the lair of the strange wolf with gray-white fur, its eyes gleaming like fire in the moonlight. It was different from the others—faster, cunning, almost an alpha, or perhaps something more. Its pelt was valuable, and I felt certain it wouldn't go unrewarded, my grip tightening on my sword's hilt. My mother's hospital bills roared like a storm in my mind; every N-PSG, every sellable piece of loot, was a hope for her to keep breathing. The Sinclaire medallion in my pocket brushed against my fingers, its cold metal an anchor. It had become a strange, ritualistic object I clutched whenever stress took hold.
The cave's entrance yawned before me like a dark wound, a jagged mouth framed by massive, serrated rocks, as if the world had forgotten to breathe here. The air was damp and thick, the metallic scent of fur, earth, and fresh blood flooding my nostrils. In the fading light of dusk, I crouched behind a rock, my eyes fixed on the entrance. Wolves slipped inside, carrying chunks of meat for their young, their eyes glowing like red embers in the dimness. I watched for three, maybe four hours, my Endurance: 100 stat dispersing the fatigue in my legs like mist. Most wolves were ordinary—gray, lean, predictable, moving in a mechanical rhythm after their prey. But my mind was fixed on that gray-white wolf; its fur shimmered like silver in the moonlight, its steps more like a ritual than a hunt. This is its kingdom, I thought, my instincts sharp as a blade. Wolves' noses could put the Modern Kingdom's most advanced sensors to shame. If I wanted to slip inside without a fight, I had to mask my scent, blend into their world like a ghost.
The sky darkened in a grim dance of purple and orange, stars prickling like needlepoints. I decided it was time. A lone wolf appeared on the path, ambling lazily, oblivious to its surroundings. I sprang from the shadows, my body a silent arc, my sword cleaving the air with the grace of a wuxia master. Steel found the wolf's neck, and it collapsed without a whimper, its blood seeping into the earth in a warm pool. I stashed its pelt in my inventory, then knelt and scooped up the remaining blood, smearing it onto my leather armor—chest, arms, neck. The stench was vile, sharp and coppery, but it was the only way to mask my human scent with theirs. I covered the bloodstains with dirt, erasing my tracks, and left the path like a ghost—wolves wouldn't see their own kind's scent as a threat. I took a deep breath, sheathed my sword, and glided toward the cave, one with the shadows.
The cave's interior hit me like a cold breath, damp air filling my lungs. Fur, mold, and the distant drip of water echoed, weighing down the atmosphere. Flickering torches on the walls made shadows dance as if alive, claw marks and old bone fragments glinting in the faint light. The entrance narrowed into a tunnel that opened into a vast network—like an ant colony, but woven from stone and darkness. Wolves were simple creatures; unmatched in tracking prey, but blind in defense. My Dance skill made me a shadow in battle; in my current state, I could cut through a large wolf pack, but waking the entire den would be digging my own grave. Stealth was my armor. The tunnel split three ways: to the right, a dark, narrow crevice, tight enough to swallow even breath; in the center, a damp, echoing corridor, its walls glistening with water; to the left, a brighter path where faint light filtered through. The left, with its light, called to me like an ally. Carefully, with silent steps, I moved down the left path.
The tunnel opened into a small chamber, and my heart stopped for a moment. Six wolves lay in a scattered heap on the stone floor, their gray fur rising and falling with their breaths, soft snores blending with the rhythm of dripping water. The dim torchlight cast shadows on their fur, making them almost look innocent. Fate offers a blade, Haoyu. Take it, I told myself, slowly drawing my sword. Stealth could wait—this was a gift to thin the pack. I activated my [No Spoiler] skill, my Endurance stat letting me perform feints without tiring. I glided through the shadows, a ghost, an executioner. I approached the first wolf, my sword finding its throat like a whisper; it fell before its eyes could open, blood seeping onto the stones. The second stirred, but Dance kicked in—my body flowed like a dancer, my sword slashing its side, a silent death. One by one, I hunted them, each movement a poem, each strike a verse. Blood pooled on the stone floor, but I dodged the splashes, preserving my scent disguise. The Task Window flickered in the corner of my vision, cold and mechanical, yet almost sentient:
[Task Update: Wolf Hunt]
• 11/20 Lesser Wolves hunted.
Eleven down, nine to go, I thought, stashing the pelts in my inventory. The chamber had become a graveyard of my making, but the cave called me deeper. I steadied my breath, kept my sword ready, and pressed on. The left path's light dimmed, giving way to colder, damper air. The walls grew rougher, etched with claw marks and old bloodstains; a distant growl made my hair stand on end. I quickly leaped to a ledge on the cave's ceiling. A lone wolf passed below, sniffing the air. I held my breath, my blood-soaked armor doing its job—it melted into the darkness without noticing me.
The tunnel narrowed, forcing me to sidle along, stones scraping my shoulder. Ahead, a wider chamber appeared, lit by a single torch, its flickering flame casting shadows on the walls. Three wolves prowled, gnawing on bones, their eyes glinting in the light. Sneaking past was impossible—battle was inevitable. I gripped my sword, feeling Dance's rhythm in my veins. I took a deep breath, sprang from the shadows, and the world became steel and blood for a moment. The first wolf lunged with a snarl, but my mind, sharp as a computer, mapped its movement in vectors—I dodged and swung my sword in a diagonal arc, slicing its chest, and it collapsed with a whimper. The second charged from the left; I used [No Spoiler] for a feint, swinging my sword in the air to draw its attention, then landed the real blow on its neck, its head rolling across the stones. The third backed off, growling, more cautious, its eyes gleaming with feral cunning. I locked eyes with it, surrendering to Dance's flow—my body spun like a vortex, my sword cutting through the air and into its flank, blood spraying. All three crumpled, the chamber falling silent save for my heavy breaths and the drip of blood.
The Task Window flickered again:
[Task Update: Wolf Hunt]
• 14/20 Lesser Wolves hunted.
I collected the pelts, but my eyes drifted to the dark tunnel beyond the chamber. The cave hid its secrets deeper, the gray-white wolf dancing like a shadow in my mind. I'll find you, I thought, wiping my sword with a bloody rag and sheathing it. I slipped back into the shadows, my steps silent, my senses sharp as a blade. I descended deeper into the heart of the cave...