Mike followed Clara's directions, finding the white blazes on the trees easily with his Enhanced Perception. The hunter's trail was well-worn but narrow, winding through increasingly dense forest. As he moved deeper, the afternoon light filtered through the canopy in broken patterns, creating a patchwork of shadow and gold.
His mana had recovered to about 1,250 during his rest at the farmhouse. Enough to use some abilities, but he'd need to be more careful about usage. He kept his mind on his low mana-consuming abilities, aiming to conserve his resources.
The forest felt wrong. His Enhanced Perception picked up the absence of normal sounds: no birdsong, no rustling of small creatures in the underbrush. Even the insects seemed to have fled. The only sounds were his own footsteps on the packed earth and the distant creaking of trees in the wind.
After about forty minutes of hiking, he found the shrine Clara had mentioned. It was a simple stone structure, no bigger than a doghouse, with offerings of dried flowers and grain scattered around its base. The clearing showed clear signs of recent activity: boot prints, places where men had sat to rest, discarded apple cores not yet brown.
Mike knelt by the prints, not using Pattern Analysis but relying on his enhanced Perception and Reason to piece together what had happened. Eight men, judging by the different boot patterns. They'd rested here, shared food, checked weapons. Then they'd split upâfive heading down the right path toward the wolf dens, three taking the left toward the old logging camp.
"Covering more ground," Mike muttered. "Smart, but it divides their strength."
If the men were tracking wolves to their den, they'd move carefully, stopping frequently to check for signs. He might be able to catch up.
Mike chose the right path, picking up his pace. The trail grew steeper, winding up into the hills. The trees here were older, their trunks thick enough that three men couldn't wrap their arms around them. The canopy was so dense that it felt like twilight despite the afternoon sun.
Twenty minutes up the trail, he found the first sign of trouble. Blood on the leaves, still wet. Not much, a few drops, but his Enhanced Perception caught the pattern. Someone had been injured and tried to bandage the wound while walking. The blood drops led off the main trail into the underbrush.
Mike followed carefully, keeping his low mana abilities at the ready. The blood trail led to a small hollow where a man sat propped against a tree, his leg wrapped in makeshift bandages. He was conscious but pale, gripping a spear with white knuckles.
The man startled when he saw Mike, raising his spear weakly. "Stay back! I'll..." He stopped, confusion replacing fear. "You're not a wolf. Who are you?"
"What would've happened if I was a wolf?" Mike wondered. "A stern warning would've kept me away?" He didn't ask him though.
"Clara sent me," Mike said quickly. "I dealt with the wolves attacking her farm. She was worried about you all."
The man relaxed slightly. "Wolves got me in the leg when we found the first den. Wasn't deep, but I couldn't keep up. Told the others to go on." He gestured up the trail. "That was maybe an hour ago. Haven't heard anything since."
Mike examined the wound, which looked like parallel gashes, already starting to inflame. "Can you walk?"
"Not well. That's why I'm here instead of heading back."
Mike made a quick decision. He couldn't leave the man here, but he also needed to find the others. "Listen, I'm going to try something. Don't be alarmed."
He activated Biorhythm Restoration, channeling healing energy into the wounded leg. He could spread the healing over quite a few seconds, so he could conserve mana. He channeled over ten seconds and watched as the gashes began to close, the inflammation fading.
The man's eyes went wide. "You're a healer? But I've never seen healing work like that. Are you from the capital?"
"Something like that," Mike said. "Can you walk on that leg now?"
The man tested his leg, amazement clear on his face. "Yes, I... yes. Thank you." He paused. "The others went further up."
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"I see," said Mike. "Do you want to come along and try to help them, or do you prefer to go back?"
"I can come along, now that I'm healed."
"Good. What's your name, by the way?" Mike asked.
"Adrian," said the man.
"Okay, Adrian, let's go and find your friends."
They went up the trail looking for the other men. Mike set a brisk pace, and after some time he noticed Adrian was having a hard time keeping up. Just a few days ago he wouldn't have been able to keep up with a fit young man like Adrian probably was, but now he's running up this trail with hardly an effort. He suddenly became very aware of the amazing transformation his body went through.
The forest grew denser as they climbed, and Mike had to consciously slow his pace even more. Adrian was breathing hard, his recently healed leg still not quite at full strength despite Mike's healing.
"How much further do you think they went?" Mike asked, scanning the trail.
"Hard to say," Adrian panted. "We found three abandoned dens before... before I got hurt. They were following fresher tracks toward what looked like a main den site."
Mike held up a hand suddenly, stopping Adrian mid-stride. His enhanced hearing had picked up something ahead. Voices, faint but urgent.
"Your friends," Mike said quietly. "They're alive, but they sound stressed. Stay close."
They moved forward more carefully now, Mike leading the way. The voices grew clearer, and Mike could make out words.
"...circle up! Don't let them separate us!"
"Where's Marcus? Marcus!"
"He went down! Focus on the ones we can see!"
Mike broke into a run, Adrian struggling to keep up behind him. As he was running he activated Adaptive Patterns, its crisscross pattern on his skin shining in gold. They burst into a wider section of trail to find four men standing back to back in a defensive circle, spears pointed outward. Three wolf corpses lay scattered around them, but Mike could see more shapes moving in the shadows between the trees. These wolves were bigger than the ones at the farm, more powerful.
One of the men spotted Mike and Adrian. "Adrian! You're walking? Who's..." His question was cut off as a wolf lunged from the undergrowth.
Mike didn't hesitate. He activated Thread Manipulation, sending invisible strands whipping through the air. The attacking wolf hit the threads mid-leap and crashed to the ground, its momentum arrested. Before it could recover, Mike was there, his enhanced speed carrying him across the clearing in a heartbeat. A single punch to the wolf's skull ended it.
"What in the seven hells..." one of the men breathed.
"Questions later," Mike said sharply. "How many wolves? Where's your fifth man?"
The apparent leader, a grizzled man with a gray-streaked beard, pointed toward a cluster of boulders. "Marcus got dragged that way. These aren't like the wolves we usually hunt. They're bigger, smarter. Level twenty at least."
Mike's Enhanced Perception picked up movement from multiple directions. At least six more wolves, circling, probing for weakness. But there was something else, something that made the hair on his neck stand up. A presence, watching from deeper in the forest.
"Adrian, get in the circle with them. I'll handle the wolves," Mike whispered.
"You'll handle..." The leader started to protest, then stopped as Mike began moving.
Combat Flow kicked in, time seeming to slow as Mike's perception accelerated. He could see the wolves' muscles tensing before they moved, track the patterns of their circling, anticipate their angles of attack. When two wolves charged simultaneously from opposite directions, Mike was ready.
He spun, threads spreading from his fingers in a deadly web. The first wolf hit the threads and stumbled, giving Mike time to sidestep and drive his knee into its ribs. The crack of breaking bones echoed through the forest. The second wolf missed its target, but was able to reach Mike's leg. However, as it bit down on the leg, the protective patterns shone brighter for a moment and prevented any damage. Mike drove his fist toward the wolf and hit its spine dead center. The sound of cracking bones left no doubt about the wolf's fate.
The remaining wolves pulled back, reassessing.
"That's impossible," one of the men whispered. "No one moves that fast."
Mike ignored him, focusing on the forest. That presence was still there, still watching. Then he saw it, just for a moment. Eyes, reflecting in the shadows between two massive oaks. Not wolf eyes. Something else. Something that made the Level twenty wolves look like puppies.
"We need to move," Mike said urgently. "There's something else out here. Something the wolves are afraid of."
As if his words were a signal, a howl split the air. Not exactly a wolf howl, something deeper, more primal. The remaining wolves immediately broke off, disappearing into the underbrush with their tails low.
"What was that?" Adrian asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Before Mike could answer, the undergrowth exploded. The creature that emerged made Mike's enhanced perception scream warnings. It stood eight feet tall at the shoulder, resembling a wolf in the way a tiger resembles a house cat. Its fur was midnight black, seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it. Most unsettling were its eyes: intelligent, calculating, and fixed directly on Mike.