The Silver-Back pup moved faster than anything made of flesh and bone should. It was a blur of silver fur and razor teeth, aiming straight for Elara’s throat.

  Elara froze. Her wand was raised, but her eyes were wide with panic. The speed terrified her.

  Amari didn't freeze.

  He stepped in front of her. He didn't try to dodge. He dropped into a low stance, rooting his boots into the mud like the roots of an old oak.

  [Void Body: Iron Stance]

  Stage 1 wasn't just muscle, Amari thought, locking his joints. It was about becoming an object that could not be moved.

  He slammed his left forearm up to block.

  CRUNCH.

  The wolf’s jaws clamped onto Amari’s arm. The teeth tore through the grey fabric of his uniform. Pain shot up his shoulder—sharp and hot. But the teeth stopped. They hit the bone, but they didn't break it.

  The Horned Boar calcium. The weeks of fracturing and healing. His bones were no longer just white calcium; they were dense, ivory steel.

  The wolf growled, confused. It tried to shake its head to rip the flesh, but Amari was a statue.

  "Now, Elara!" Amari roared. "Blast it!"

  Elara snapped out of her trance. She saw the wolf hanging off Amari’s arm. Panic turned into focus.

  She pointed her wand at the wolf’s exposed flank. She didn't just throw fire; she recalled the feeling of the library. Dominance.

  "Burn!" she screamed.

  A sphere of compressed blue flame the size of a basketball shot from her wand. It hit the wolf point-blank.

  BOOM.

  The wolf yelped, releasing Amari’s arm as the intense heat singed its fur. It rolled backward, landing on its feet, snarling. It was hurt, but not dead. Its blue eyes glowed brighter with rage.

  It coiled its legs to jump again.

  "No, you don't," Amari whispered.

  He ignored the blood dripping from his left arm. He lunged forward.

  He didn't use a fancy martial arts pose. He used pure, explosive power. He closed the distance in two steps.

  The wolf tried to snap at him, but Amari was already inside its guard.

  Amari pulled his right fist back. He visualized the Breath of Iron. He pushed every ounce of oxygen in his lungs into his right tricep.

  He punched the wolf directly in the chest, right between the ribs.

  THUD.

  It sounded like a sledgehammer hitting wet concrete.

  The wolf’s eyes bulged. The force of the punch sent a shockwave through its small body, caving in its sternum with a wet crunch.

  The pup collapsed, wheezing pink froth. It didn't twitch again.

  [System Notification] [Target Eliminated: Silver-Back Warg Pup (Variant)] [Contribution Points: +50 CP] [Warning: Apex Predator Response Probability — HIGH]

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Elara lowered her wand, panting heavily. "We... we did it. Is your arm okay?"

  Amari looked at his left arm. It was a mess of torn skin and blood, but the muscle and bone underneath were intact.

  "I'm fine," Amari said. "We need to go. The noise will attract—"

  He stopped.

  A strange sound came from the dead wolf's body. A soft, high-pitched hiss.

  Amari looked down.

  The silver fur of the pup was dissolving. It wasn't turning into mana dust like a normal construct. It was turning into a fine, glittering silver mist.

  The mist didn't float away with the wind. It shot upward, straight at Amari and Elara.

  "Cover your face!" Amari yelled.

  Too late.

  The mist coated them. It felt sticky, like cold spiderwebs. It settled on their clothes, their skin, and their hair. It smelled sweet, like rotting flowers and copper.

  Elara coughed, waving her hand. "Ugh. What is this stuff? Is it poison?"

  Amari stared at the silver dust on his hands. His blood ran cold.

  He recognized this dust. In the 20-Year War, entire platoons were wiped out because of this dust.

  "It's not poison," Amari said, his voice grim. "It's a beacon."

  "A beacon?"

  "It’s a Pheromone Mark," Amari explained rapidly, grabbing his bag. "Silver-Backs are hive predators. When a pup dies, it releases this scent to mark the killer. It tells every other wolf in a five-mile radius exactly where we are."

  Elara went pale. "You mean..."

  "I mean the mother knows," Amari said. "She knows we killed her baby. And she can smell us."

  Somewhere in the Deep Forest

  The Alpha lay in a cave of bones.

  She was massive—the size of a cargo van. Her fur was pure, liquid silver. Her claws were black obsidian, each one as long as a sword.

  She was sleeping, waiting for the weak "students" to stumble into her lair.

  Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.

  Her pupils were vertical slits of glowing blue neon.

  She sniffed the air.

  The scent was faint, but unmistakable. The sweet, metallic smell of her kin’s death.

  A low growl started in her throat. It built up, vibrating against the cave walls, shaking dust from the ceiling.

  She stood up, her muscles rippling under her thick hide. She ignored the scent of the hundreds of other humans entering the forest. They were just meat.

  But the ones who smelled of the Silver Mist...

  They were enemies.

  The Alpha stepped out of the cave. She threw her head back and let out a howl that shattered the silence of the forest.

  AWOOOOOOOOOO!

  Back on the Ridge

  The howl hit them like a physical wave. It was loud, deep, and filled with a terrifying intelligence.

  Elara dropped her wand. She looked at Amari, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

  "That... that sounded big," she whispered.

  Amari was already moving. He grabbed a handful of mud and smeared it over his face, trying to mask the scent.

  "We have to move," Amari said. "Right now."

  "To the Red Flag?" Elara asked.

  "No," Amari said. "If we go to the flag, we lead that monster to the other students. It will slaughter everyone."

  He looked at the map on his wristwatch.

  "We have to go to the river," Amari decided. "Running water might dampen the scent. And the river leads to a waterfall. If we can get behind the water, the spray might hide us."

  "Amari," Elara said, her voice trembling. "I can't outrun a monster that size."

  "Mud won't hide this," Amari muttered, wiping the slime from his cheek. "The mark isn't on the skin. It's in the sweat."

  He grabbed her shoulder. He squeezed it hard, grounding her.

  "You don't have to outrun it," Amari said intensely. "You just have to trust me. Can you do that?"

  Elara looked at the blood on his arm, then at his calm, dark eyes. She nodded.

  "Good," Amari said. "Run."

  They took off into the trees.

  But they weren't the only ones who heard the howl.

  A mile away, on the main path, Bronson stopped. He was smashing a goblin's skull with his mace. He looked toward the eastern ridge.

  "Did you hear that?" one of his lackeys asked. "That sounded like the Boss Monster."

  Bronson grinned. "It sounded like it's hunting something. And it's heading East."

  "East?" The lackey checked his map. "That's the rough terrain. Nobody is over there except the stragglers."

  "Exactly," Bronson said. "Let's go see who gets eaten. It might be funny."