by Konrad Ryan
Tad found his footsteps from his previous chase, impossibly far apart from his speed. He ran as fast as he could to the clearing, back to where the battle had begun. To where the corpse of the first werewolf lay. He unbuckled his heavily damaged leather armor, then stabbed one finger deep into his own abdomen. Despite his previous healing, purple cords of bowels hung out, limp. Tad grimaced at the sight and pushed them back inside. His skin must have healed around his protruding bowels. Tad smeared blood from his fresh wound across the armor, along with his sweat and maybe even a few tears. It was hard to tell. His ring finger on his left hand hadn’t healed properly, it hung, by a thin strand of skin, from when he broke the wolf’s jaw. He tugged it away from his hand with a grimace and tied it to the armor. As a finishing touch, he hawked a huge loogie on the armor, ran a few steps past the werewolf corpse and threw the bulky leather armor as hard as he could through the trees, hoping the scent would create a false trail. The leather armor soared through the sky and out of sight somewhere deeper into the forest.
He then removed his blood-soaked undershirt and incinerated it with a single charge of a firebolt. The smell of sweat, blood, char and ashes filled the area. Maybe that hadn’t been a good idea, but what’s done was done. A second and third firebolt burned dried blood off his hands and torso. Maybe that’s how the werewolf had found him. Perhaps it couldn’t smell Tad directly, because of stealth, but any blood that dripped from wounds might be fair game. If a drop of blood hit the forest floor or something like that. He wasn’t sure how it all worked, so he had to be careful.
Pink and tender flesh covered almost the entirety of his torso, attesting to how violent the battle had been. He cast heal once more with his last replenished mana point to close any external wounds and seal his bowels inside. Internal bleeding would continue, but he had to mask his scent as best he could. Any fresh blood might give him away.
Now for the gross part.
Hurrying over to the exploded head of the werewolf, Tad examined its dead body. It was still warm. Blood and gore from the werewolf had spilt out of its neck and across the ground. Tad raked at the moist dirt with his greatsword, digging a hole just big enough to hold him. The earth, beneath his weapon, split like water. Strength was an amazing stat. The bottom of his trench was just over two feet deep and maybe three feet wide, gradually rising until it was flush with the forest floor.
Tad took just a moment to admire the size of the trench before he crouched down and moved the still dripping neck of the dead werewolf over the trench. He smeared the pooled werewolf blood across his naked torso, then across his pants and arms. He gagged at the smell of rotten eggs and flesh; he forced the thoughts of what he was doing from his mind. Then he dumped two handfuls of the red slippery liquid on top of his head and kneaded it through his hair. Finally, he got inside the crater, laying with his back down into the shallow pool of warm blood.
He covered his limbs as best as he could with loose dirt, sticks, and twigs surrounding the newly made crater. Once he was hidden as best as he could be, Tad pulled both halves of the small werewolf corpse on top of his own body and fought to slow his breathing. Finally, he activated stealth. He thanked his cloak for removing the mana cost, else this would be impossible.
A moment later, a howl erupted in the distance. Two minutes was up. The black mist of stealth covered his skin. Tad had hidden himself the best he could. Now he just had to wait. His heart beat loudly in his ears. Would his own heart give him away? Weren’t werewolves supposed to hear heartbeats or something like that?
No. Stay calm. If the werewolf found him, he would deal with it then. He would figure something out. Maybe. His mind still reeled from the blood loss, laying down like this didn’t even help. One thing was for sure, if he was to get through this, he would need to end the fight quickly. Who knows what kind of shape the werewolf was in after his healing session since it could heal up to half of its health.
Tad worked to calm his nerves. This was a gambit. He needed time. Time to replenish his mana. Time to heal.
He had expected the werewolf to rush after him, in anticipation to finish him off, but the werewolf was proceeding much slower and more carefully than Tad thought it would.
A twig snapped just a few feet from Tad’s head. He felt his heartbeat try to jump out of his chest, but he fought to calm it. How had it gotten so close without Tad even hearing it? Tad strained his ears for any sign that his cover might be blown.
A faint sniffing sound breathed through the night. If Tad hadn’t been listening so intently, he would have missed it. Panic rose in his chest as the snuffling got closer and closer. He wanted to scream. If it discovered him, he would be as helpless as a bug before a giant, a baby goat before a wolf. The breath in his chest fought to escape, his limbs battled to tremble, his bladder tried to empty, but Tad forced his body in check.
He was out of options. He had prepared the best he could.
It was up to luck now.
Tad heard the massive creature quietly stand taller in the night, followed by a small gust of wind that blew through the trees. The sniffing of the creature intensified before it took off, exhaling in what could only be a massive leap, seemingly in the direction he had thrown his blood-soaked, finger-dangling armor.
With a giant sigh of relief, the tension melted away. A warm sensation flooded his limbs as he allowed them to tremble. It was a good thing the werewolf had left when it had. He was at his limit. His body felt so weary. Fighting had strained his mind to the maximum and then pushed it some more.
His eyelids were so heavy, like lead weights hung from them by fishhooks. He fought to keep them open.
The night went still, the gust that had saved him long forgotten as complete relaxation took root deep in Tad’s chest.
Gradually, hidden under the decapitated body of the dead twin of his pursuer, Tad drifted to sleep with a final thought.
Tad had been wrong. Even in death, Gary was reliable.
* * *
A frustrated howl jolted Tad awake, he shivered with chill, the wet blood pit was now cold and sticky. How long had he been out? He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.
“Stats,”
*Tad Harrington
Rank: Warrior
Class: Fighter/Void Minotaur
Level: 53
Health: 789/1000
Mana: 300/300
Str: 180
Dex: 120
Con: 90
Mag: 100
Cou: 80
Cha: 20
Debuffs: Silverfang Virus Incubation (30 Days Remaining)
Points to allocate:15*
His mana was full. It had at least been an hour. Maybe more. His hiding place combined with the stealth skill had worked far better than he had hoped possible. But what was this Silverfang debuff? Tad brought up more information about it.
*Silverfang Virus Incubation (30 Days Remaining): Unless cured, you will become a werewolf of the Silverfang clan when the time runs out.*
Great. But at least this problem was 30 days away. He had time to fix it. He pushed the thought from his mind, he had other, more immediate problems to solve.
Tad mentally moved his cloak from his back equipment slot to his weapon slot. It materialized in his hands. In the dark, he fumbled around until he found what he was looking for. A small, tongue shaped etching on the backside of the cloak. He gently pulled it, it detached with a sickly wet sound, Tad hoped the werewolf wasn’t close enough to hear that. Then he pushed the flopping tongue into the ring of the conqueror, still on his finger. It shrunk and attached to the small statue of Metzlegoph, just under its long needle nose. It would give him a second charge of speed of the conqueror.
A second chance at life.
Another rage-filled howl broke the silence of the night. This one was much closer.
He reequipped his cloak onto his back. He would be slower than he had been before, without ‘brilliant burst’ active, but he’d still have his dexterity tripled, which would ge
t him near the werewolf’s regular speed, but it wouldn’t help him against the werewolf’s leap-attacking speed.
But maybe he could prepare for it.
As he had done once before, he concentrated on his cloak and separated it into three sections. It came easier this time. Tad wove the sections together, slowly, carefully. The werewolf only had unsurpassable speed the moment it attacked. But to do that, it needed to crouch. Excitement and fear mixed in his stomach, but his anticipation grew. This could work. With full mana, he had options. If he could leash the beast, his spells would be viable. He would have ten full seconds of unparalleled aggression. One final lifeline to take down the werewolf before his certain doom. But they were back in the forest this time, away from the moon bath, and he knew the werewolf’s weaknesses.
It seemed to take forever to finish his rope, but he finally finished it. Tad concentrated at the bottom of the braided rope cloak, slowly, he stretched the knot into a loop. Like this, it would never come undone. He would not allow the werewolf to run away this time and waste half of his ten seconds. This time he would end him in a brutal onslaught without pause.
Without hesitation.
Without mercy.
It was time for the Tad show.
Chapter 29
Tad shivered in the cold pit, still hidden by dirt, twigs and the corpse of the smaller werewolf. He had to time this perfectly. The werewolf hadn’t come close since he had woken up, but its howls had been gradually getting closer. But Tad couldn’t go out to meet it, if it caught him before he cast his ‘speed of the conqueror’ he might die before he had a chance, and if he cast it before and couldn’t find it in time, it was game over. Tad had cut his hand and flung some blood out of his hiding place, hoping to lure the werewolf, but he was still downwind of the miniboss.
He had run through his plan repeatedly, the only thing he was worried about was the speed difference. The werewolf had seriously powered up since his transformation, since he absorbed his twin. Tad opened his stats and put the fifteen points into his dexterity, which doubled from his stat aspect. He eyed his dexterity. He had saved the points before, but he could no longer afford to hold them.
Dex: 150
Tad slowed his breathing. The twin werewolves had hunted him, but this time, their prey had teeth. He killed the first, and almost the second, but now it would be different. He would be the hunter. The prepared hunter. His body trembled, but not only from the cold, limbs shook from exhilaration, from the anticipation of the hunt. He was the hunter now. The slayer. The fight would start and end on his terms.
A howl almost directly above him brought Tad back from his thoughts. It was time.
“Speed of the conqueror.” Tad’s voice was barely a whisper. With his enhanced speed, mana flowed down into each of his arms. “Thunderstorm!” Tad twin-cast six thunderstorms from his hiding place. Thunder crashed as six lightning strikes found their target. Tad recast stealth, and rose from his pit. The werewolf stood incensed, eyes filled with rage. He spun wildly, looking for any hint of his quarry.
But his quarry was gone, replaced with a slayer.
Tad burst forward. His first thrust caught his foe, impaling him on the gigantic weapon. Stealth dissolved, but Tad had already lifted the wolf off the ground. As expected, the wolf kicked at Tad’s torso to free itself from the attack. Tad twisted away from the kick and slipped the loop he had formed from his cloak around the foot of the beast. Tad squeezed with his mind, and his cloak’s loop tightened around the werewolf’s calf. The jawless werewolf recovered from its missed kick, using its hands to pull itself from the blade. It fell to the ground, and with a motion that blurred to Tad’s eyes, it crouched down, in preparation to attack. Tad banished Metzlegoph’s greatsword to his void, and with both hands yanked as hard as he could on his cape, the wolf twisted in the air. Suddenly foothold-less, the werewolf’s powerful quads unloaded, his legs kicked uselessly in the air, flopping about like a fish on land.
Simultaneously, all six thunderstorms struck in a blinding display, leaving hair and flesh sizzling. Tad cast quake. Both Wraithford axes appeared, one in each hand. Before the werewolf even hit the ground, Tad hopped back a smidge, then swung both weapons through each of the werewolf’s arms. The earth jutted upward to meet the attack. The axes crunched into bone, pinning arms to raised earth. Before it could even think to recover, Tad summoned a third time. His acidic greatsword reappeared. He pulled at the earth, a spike of rock exploded from the monster’s chest, followed by a second, Finally Metzlegoph’s greatsword crushed from above, both rock and bone as the weapon split the werewolf from head to crotch, its health bar completely disappearing from above its head.
But Tad wasn’t done. Rage fueled him forward. The end of the hunt had come too soon. He brought his great sword up again and smashed it down with his full might. A strange foreign howl of laughter quivered through his chest, before the rage took him in full force. He brought his sword back up for another swing.
*You have leveled up!*
“Shut up! I’m not done with this guy yet!” his sword rained down upon his fallen foe with another wet thwack. Each ping of his level ups mixed with the sound of his blade crushing his dead enemy.
*You have leveled up!*
Thwack
*You have leveled up!*
Thwack
*You have leveled up!*
Thwack
With the last smash, Tad turned, dropping his weapon, his head stretched toward the moon and he howled his release, his rage, and anger in a final burst. Warm mana flowed through his veins, refilling his empty stores in a soothing sensation like warm butter softly melting in the sun. Pleasure and relief surged through his body and he lay on the soft forest floor.
Tension disappeared from his muscles and he let himself relax, freed from the fear and danger of battle. Speed of the conqueror ended.
The crimson moonlight shone through the natural canopy of the forest, the sight was mesmerizing. The light brought with it tranquility which took root deep in his mind. Tad stared up past the trees at the beautiful night sky. The moons were hypnotizing. Especially the big red one, against the pitch dark, starless canopy of the night sky. It was so beautiful. Why hadn’t he thought so before? He would never take moons for granted again.
A golden treasure chest appeared next to the large werewolf’s corpse, a small golden essence that perfectly matched the creature, howled above its body. Tad’s ears perked up in excitement. A single hop brought him to his feet. He had paid for his harpy’s tongue, skipped two dungeons’ loot, but this was his. The toothblender boss hadn’t dropped treasure, though its corpse was its own treasure. He had relinquished the banshee sword. But the guild had no claim on this.
Tad summoned his soul lantern from the dungeon pouch at his side and harvested the wolf’s essence. He slid open the lid, and the wolf breathed in and howled, his violin playing banshee’s music incorporated the howl as she played a forlorn tune. Then he lifted the small golden treasure chest and admired its design. The back of the treasure chest showed Twin werewolves howling. The top of the lid had four moons, made from opals, rubies, and other precious gems. Black opal covered the spaces between the moons, it looked just like the night sky above. Tad opened the lid on its hinges, viewed from behind, only then was the scene complete. The moons floated high in the sky above the howling wolves, surrounded by the lush canopy of forest. It was beautiful. Tad reached inside and pulled out his prize.
The head of the bigger werewolf twin.
Its yellow eyes had been replaced with small topazes, and its white fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Its lower jaw had been reattached. He imagined some craftsman having to scramble back to the clearing to collect the jaw and hastily repairing the item before rushing to place it in the treasure chest. The image caused a hearty chuckle. The inside of the skull was hollow, a padded fur lining neatly hid all the bones of the skull. Tad held it away from his face as he admired the werewolf’s head. The gruesome visage was every bit as
fierce in death as it had been in life.
Tad lifted the head in front of him and cast the ‘identify’ spell. The topaz eyes of the werewolf glowed red in the moonlight, a second soft light lifted the item from his hand, and rotated the item, a description appeared before his eyes.
*Werewolf’s Grimace:
Unlocks item-only skills Clone and Enhance Self.
Clone: Charges 1/1. Consumes 50% of your maximum mana to activate. You split your essence and body into two copies controlled by you. Your clone dies first.
Enhance Self: For an additional 50% of your maximum mana, you can absorb the essence of your fallen clone adding its stats to your own for 1 hour.
All charges refill at midnight.*
Tad felt his jaw drop. First off, how did it work? How could you even control two bodies? Second, wasn’t this item basically a 2x stat bonus? At least for an hour. Lastly, how did your clone die first? What did that even mean?
This item seemed completely broken, even if it would use up his entire mana pool to activate both skills. Tad summoned his gaseous breastplate, then banished it into his dungeon pouch, then banished the helmet into his void equipment slot. He would have to try out its abilities later. For now, though, he didn’t want to risk the helmet being taken from him by his other party members. He had earned this.
A door appeared on the far side of the battleground, the exact duplicate of the one he had entered. Tad took a deep breath. He did it. He had entered a warrior rank dungeon and defeated a miniboss all by himself. Two minibosses. Okay, maybe one miniboss with access to the clone skill. Either way, he had had to kill two werewolves.
But something worried him. He had gone through all that, and only leveled up seven times total, even with a 2x experience boost from the Metzlegoph set. Leveling up seemed to be slowing down, so it might take a lot more than just 5 dungeons to reach the max level this time.