Mike stepped outside and immediately felt something biting his leg. He saw the wolf that had been waiting just outside the door, biting down hard, but the threads around his leg shone even brighter for a second and the wolf was unable to penetrate them. However, it was enough to hurt his balance and he fell to the ground.
"Shit," Mike said angrily and tried to kick at the wolf. However, the wolf was already backing off when Mike kicked. It was crouching low, making growling noises. He knew that if he waited much longer, all the other wolves might come to their friend's help. He got to his feet as fast as he could, closed the distance to the wolf, and kicked it as hard as he could.
Which, apparently, was pretty hard.
He could feel the wolf's ribcage caving in under the force his foot applied. It flew away a few feet and lay there on the ground, motionless.
Mike stood there and looked at the dead wolf. "Just like that?" Mike wondered. "One kick and it's dead?"
Mike was glad his estimation regarding the impact of the level difference proved to be true.
Mike's surprise made the existence of the other wolves completely slip his mind. He suddenly felt something crash onto his back while his two legs were pulled from both sides. Again, he lost his balance and came crashing to the ground.
This time he could feel teeth trying to tear into his flesh and talons swiping at him. For a few seconds they didn't even touch his skin, but then they started penetrating his protective patterns, causing him some damage.
Mike felt the sharp pain as teeth and claws finally broke through his Adaptive Patterns. The golden threads flickered and dimmed where the wolves concentrated their attacks.
"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, trying to roll away from the snapping jaws. His enhanced stats meant he was stronger and faster than any normal human, but three wolves working in concert were proving more dangerous than he'd anticipated.
He managed to get an elbow into the side of the wolf on his back. The creature's spine snapped with a wet crack and it went limp immediately, sliding off him. Mike twisted free and turned his head toward the other wolves.
The two remaining wolves regrouped quickly, circling him, growling at him. Mike scrambled to his feet, breathing hard. His health showed 2,340 out of 2,600. Not terrible, but those few seconds on the ground had cost him more than he'd expected.
His first instinct was to activate Pattern Shield, but he caught himself. Casting that shield on a level 100 individual would be very costly; he wouldn't be able to hold it for more than a split second, and this fight would last longer than that. He was starting to see some issues with managing mana he couldn't figure out. No time for that now, though.
He tried to reactivate Adaptive Patterns with its flat mana cost instead, but nothing happened. The ability was still on cooldown. Of course. Thirty seconds of protection, but how long until he could use it again? That information was missing from the ability description.
"Okay, no shields then," he said, raising his fists.
Mike heard Clara's crossbow twang from the upstairs window, followed by a pained howl from the direction of the barn. One of the barn wolves came running around the corner, apparently deciding to help its packmates rather than face the crossbow alone.
Three wolves again. Mike activated Thread Manipulation, which didn't depend on his level. Invisible strands spread from his fingers. The mana drain was immediate but manageable. He sent two threads low, just above the grass where the wolves couldn't see them in their eagerness to attack. When the first wolf charged, Mike yanked the threads taut. The creature's front legs tangled and it went down hard, skidding across the dirt.
Before it could recover, Mike was on it. One punch to the skull ended it instantly. The remaining two wolves actually paused, reassessing. That hesitation was all Mike needed. He'd already woven a net of threads between himself and them.
"Come on then," he taunted, backing up slowly.
They came at him together, trying to flank. The first hit the thread net and stumbled. Mike grabbed it by the throat, his enhanced strength making the move almost casual, and slammed it into the ground. The impact left a small crater.
The last wolf tried to retreat, but Mike's threads were already wrapping around its hind legs. He pulled it back, closing the distance in two quick strides. A swift kick ended it.
Mike stood among the five corpses, breathing heavily. He checked his stats:
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Health: 2,340 / 2,600
Stamina: 2,050 / 2,450
Mana: 150 / 4,850
He hadn't noticed his mana before the fight, which was a mistake on his part. But it must have gone down on his way to the farm, because he felt the drain during Thread Manipulation. He'd cut it very short, but it was just enough. "It was probably a bad idea to finish a fight so low," he thought. "I really need a better understanding of mana management."
The fight had been messier than he'd hoped, but educational. His physical stats made him devastatingly powerful against level 15 enemies, but getting surrounded was still dangerous.
Clara was already coming down, crossbow still in hand.
"Well," she said, surveying the dead wolves around her home. "You weren't lying about managing." Her eyes lingered on the small crater where he'd slammed one wolf. "Though I've never seen anyone fight wolves with their bare hands before. You some kind of monk?"
"Something like that," Mike said, not wanting to explain his situation any further. What was he, anyway?
"Come inside," Clara said, glancing at the darkening sky. "You've earned a rest, and we need to talk about what just happened."
Back in the farmhouse, Clara moved to the hearth. "Sit. I'll prepare something for you."
Mike sat at the rough wooden table, watching as she worked. She moved with practiced efficiency, pulling ingredients from various shelves and bins. His Enhanced Perception picked up subtle details: the way she tested the heat of her cast iron pan with a drop of water, how she seasoned in layers, the precise timing of each addition.
Suddenly, a notification appeared in his vision:
New Skill Learned: Basic Cooking (Rank 1)
Through observation and analysis, you have gained understanding of fundamental cooking techniques.
+5% to food quality when preparing meals.
Mike blinked in surprise. He could learn skills just by watching? That opened up enormous possibilities. If he could acquire skills from NPCs...
"There," Clara said, setting several pots to simmer. "That'll need an hour or so. You look exhausted. Why don't you rest while it cooks? My son's room is upstairs, second door."
Mike realized she was right. The adrenaline was wearing off and fatigue was setting in. "That... actually sounds good."
The room was simple but clean, with a narrow bed and a small window overlooking the fields. Mike sat on the bed and pulled up his character interface, curious about how his abilities had performed in actual combat.
That's when he noticed something new. Next to his abilities, small text had appeared:
Thread Manipulation (Rank 1)
Adaptive Patterns (Rank 1)
"Ranks?" Mike muttered. He focused on the notation, and additional information appeared:
Thread Manipulation (Rank 1): 5/100 experience
Adaptive Patterns (Rank 1): 1/100 experience
So abilities could level up independently. That changed things. If he could increase the rank of Thread Manipulation, maybe the threads would become stronger or he could control more. The tactical possibilities were intriguing.
He lay back on the bed, intending to just rest his eyes for a moment. The next thing he knew, someone was knocking on the door.
"Food's ready," Clara called. "Been about two hours."
Mike sat up, feeling remarkably refreshed. His health had fully regenerated and his mana was much higher after the nap. He made his way downstairs to find Clara setting out bread, cheese, and the stew she'd prepared.
"Not fancy, but it'll keep you going," she said. "Been thinking while I cooked. These wolves attacking the farm... it doesn't make sense."
Mike sat down, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
"Wolves avoid settlements unless they're desperate. But we've had mild weather, plenty of game in the forest. Why risk coming here for sheep?"
The question sparked something in Mike's analysis. "Unless they're not choosing to come here. What if something's driving them out of their normal territory?"
Clara's eyes widened. "You think there's something worse in the deep forest?"
"A stronger pack maybe," Mike said, pieces falling into place. "If they're territorial, strong groups might push the weaker groups into human settlements. If there's an alpha pack deeper in the woods..."
"Oh gods," Clara breathed. "The men went into the forest. They were tracking the wolves back to their den. If they run into whatever's been driving these wolves out..."
Mike nodded grimly. "They'd be walking into something much stronger than what attacked your farm. These might have been the weak ones fleeing from the real threat."
Clara stood abruptly, moving to a cupboard. "You need to warn them. Here." She pulled out a traveling pack, sturdy and well-worn. "This was my son's. He's grown now, lives in Millhaven."
As she packed the bag with the food she'd prepared, a waterskin, and other supplies, she gave rapid directions. "The men were tracking the wolves northwest from here. Follow the tree line behind the barn until you see the old hunter's trail. It's marked with white blazes on the trees."
She added a coil of rope and a simple hunting knife. "Stay on that trail for about an hour, then you'll come to a small clearing with a shrine to the Harvest Mother. That's where they would have regrouped before going deeper."
Mike accepted the pack gratefully. He'd been thinking he needed to find higher level enemies anyway to test his build properly. If there was something in the forest strong enough to drive out level 15 wolves, it might be exactly what he needed. And if he could help these people in the process, all the better.
"The trail splits at the shrine," Clara continued. "The left path goes to the old logging camp, the right goes deeper into the hills where the wolves usually den. If they found tracks, they'd have gone right."
"I'll find them," Mike promised, adjusting the pack straps. "And I'll bring them back if I can."
Clara gripped his arm. "Be careful. If you're right about something worse being in there... do everything you can to help them."
Mike thought about Sarah and Tommy, about the weight of representing humanity. He couldn't afford to die here, but still... "I'll do my best," he said.
As he headed for the door, Clara called after him. "If you find them... if they're..." Her voice caught slightly.
"I'll bring them all back," Mike said firmly. "All of them."