Faust was running, occasionally looking back, as he threw rocks and javelins behind him and detonated them to stall the bear. It wasn't completely unstoppable, it seemed. But Faust had two problems. First, he needed to return to his secondary camp, that being the bear observation spot. Second, most of his rocks and runes were stored in the main camp. Right now, his resources were limited. He had spent almost all his rocks; he had only one left. The same went for his javelins; just one remained.
"Calm down. Alright… Alright… This bear is not completely immune to damage. If I can bring it back to my camp, I might have a chance. It's a slim one, but better than zero."
He didn't stop running. He used his last javelin and final stone, managing to stall the bear a bit more. Just a few seconds—but the camp was still minutes away. The bear would definitely catch up. To buy more time, he had to make a choice: either the boar or the goblin would need to be left behind to stall it.
"The goblin can carry supplies, but so can the boar. The boar is more durable, the goblin slightly faster. But the boar is definitely stronger… The bear is too fast, so speed doesn't matter. Damn it... it'll have to be the boar," he decided, all within a single second of thought.
Leaving the boar behind was another heavy loss. He had trained it alongside the goblin. Losing it meant losing a major chunk of his strength. But there was no other option. The boar could stall the bear longer than the goblin could. If he used the goblin, he'd likely need to use the boar too. If he used only the boar, the goblin might survive. Sure, using both might grant him a few more seconds, but the goblin was too useful, and he already had plans for it.
He ordered the boar to fight like the wolf—attack and retreat. It worked for a moment; he gained distance. But a little over a minute later, the connection was gone. The boar was dead.
He was close to the camp now. He still had the goblin and a few supplies stashed at the site. It could barely be called preparation, but it was better than nothing.
As the camp came into view, he looked back. The bear was close too. Its pitch-black fur contrasted sharply with the white snow. Its body was scarred and terrifying. It looked like a giant.
"Almost there. Just a few more seconds!" Faust thought, his body drenched in sweat despite the freezing cold.
As he neared the camp, the bear surged forward, preparing to smash him with its claws. Faust was still heavily injured from the earlier attack. He had survived thanks to the poncho and the wolf-fur clothing he had crafted, but both were now shredded. Another hit meant certain death.
As the bear's claw came down, Faust jumped high into the air. The bear missed. He didn't dodge out of speed; he wasn't fast enough to. He predicted the attack, acting just before it came. He landed hard in the snow, rolled, and sprang up again. The bear kept charging.
He reached the observation spot; now it was his territory. The moment he crossed the invisible boundary of the detonation runes—hundreds of them, some full-powered, most half-strength—he instantly willed:
"Detonate."
Ten runes exploded behind him, staggering the bear for a few moments. Faust ordered the goblin to retreat to the main camp and get back his items, leaving him alone on the battlefield.
With the bear momentarily stunned, Faust climbed a tree. When the bear recovered, it spotted him immediately but didn't move.
"This damn beast! Why is everything I fight always so smart?!"
The bear had noticed this was Faust's territory. The runes near it had already detonated. If it stayed still, there was no way of damaging it.
Faust's healing rune had worked to some degree. The bleeding had stopped, though the wound remained ugly, exposing raw muscle. The recovery was slow but constant.
"Alright, if it wants to stall, then let's stall. It won't leave me alone anyway. I'm sure of it. A predator doesn't let its prey escape, and I'm sure it thinks of me as prey. That's good for me. If the goblin makes it back safely, the chances of me winning will greatly increase."
But after a few seconds, the bear suddenly moved.
Faust was caught off guard but instinctively triggered the detonation runes in its path. This time, the bear didn't slow down. Fur flew off as explosions battered its body, but it kept charging. The damage was minimal. Then it pounced at Faust's tree; almost instantly, the trunk cracked and began to collapse. Faust leapt from it, landing in the snow. The landing wasn't smooth; his wound nearly tore open again.
As he scrambled up, the bear was already in front of him, jaws wide. Bits of boar meat and fur clung to its bloodstained teeth. Before it could bite down, Faust predicted the move and jumped back, barely being able to avoid it.
"If I can keep predicting its moves, I can hold out until the goblin returns. Just a few more minutes. If I'm right, I still have a chance!"
If the bear swiped, Faust dodged. If it lunged with its teeth, he jumped back. All while constantly triggering runes to wear the beast down. But the damage was barely visible.
Faust's body was deteriorating. The injury exhausted him quickly. Since he had spent ninety percent of his mana earlier on the healing rune, he could only cast one more mana bullet before total mana depletion.
Cold sweat dripped into the snow. His eyes were bloodshot. His skin, pale and drained, nearly matched the color of the snow. He had lost too much blood before the bleeding stopped.
"My condition is even worse than I expected… I can't hold out for long. Maybe a few minutes at most. I hope it's enough. It has to be."
Faust's thoughts were racing. The bear attacked relentlessly—within less than two minutes, more than fifty runes had already been activated. The bear's paws left trails of blood in the snow; its fur was damaged, yet it showed no signs of being seriously injured.
Suddenly, the bear prepared to swing at Faust again. He predicted it and jumped back—but then, the bear jumped too. It didn't follow through with the attack; instead, it pounced at Faust in mid-air. He had no way to dodge.
"What?"
That was all Faust could think before his left arm was completely inside the bear's mouth. Time seemed to slow down. He bled heavily as the bear slowly tightened its clenching teeth. Then, from inside the beast's mouth, in a fraction of a second, a blue light formed and vanished. The creature opened its jaws and released Faust's arm.
Faust had used all his leftover mana to shoot a single mana bullet. It was enough to damage the beast—apparently, its insides weren't as resistant as its outer body. He jumped back while the creature roared, blood dripping from its mouth. It was hurt.
Faust grew extra cautious now. If he got caught again, he wouldn't be able to escape. His body was heavy, but as fast as the bear moved, he seemed to predict and dodge each strike. On the verge of death, his senses sharpened. When his life was on the line, he had to overcome his own limits.
"Finally!" Faust's eyes darted to the woods—the goblin was there, carrying a large goblin-leather sack.
Faust had exhausted nearly all the runes on the battlefield, but the only real damage he managed was through the internal strike. As he recalled this, his eyes narrowed. But he couldn't stop; he continued dodging the bear's attacks as the goblin closed in.
Then, he extended his right arm. The goblin threw a javelin from the sack toward Faust. Catching it midair, Faust baited the bear with strikes, which it didn't even try to dodge—it knew the javelins wouldn't harm it. Faust threw the weapon at the beast, and though it didn't pierce the fur, it fell at its feet. Then he detonated it. The bear roared.
The goblin threw another. Faust pressed harder now, tossing them ahead of the bear and detonating them. The goblin eventually sat on the ground and stopped throwing.
The bear noticed this and began attacking furiously. Faust retreated closer to his goblin and hurled and detonated stone grenades at the beast, but it didn't even flinch and charged at him.
Sweating heavily, Faust desperately grabbed the goblin with his left arm and, using all his strength, threw it at the bear. The goblin landed and lay motionless, like it was asleep. Faust ran a few more meters before collapsing, his back against the cold snow.
The bear stopped running and walked. It had won. Faust had lost. The goblin lay still, and Faust wasn't far off either. The bear sniffed the goblin, bit into its body, and began feasting; it seemed almost out of spite. Instantly, Faust felt the rune connection break.
Then, the bear slowly made its way toward Faust, who began crawling through the snow. He needed to get away. The bear approached and opened its mouth. Saliva dripping onto Faust's face, it brought its teeth toward his head. But then, it stopped.
Faust grinned.
The bear took a few steps back. Then—
It collapsed. Its body went still.
"Impressive." Red's voice echoed in Faust's mind.
When Faust ordered his goblin to retreat, he intended for it to gather more weapons so he could try poisoning the bear. He would aim for the same area repeatedly until he could inflict damage. But when the bear tried to bite him, he noticed something that confirmed a theory—boar fur and meat. He'd seen the bear eat half of his wolf before leaving, but he didn't see what happened with the boar. When he saw boar remains in the bear's mouth, two possibilities came to mind: either it had eaten part of it on the spot, or it had finished the kill using its mouth. Either way, it had ended up in its jaws.
So he took a gamble.
When the goblin was near the battlefield, Faust ordered it to store all the poison in its mouth. Its body was already going numb, but the effect was still limited. He then had it hand over a few items to bait the bear and then stop. As Faust retreated, he commanded the goblin to fully consume the poison. The result was paralysis. Then, Faust made a show of desperation and threw the goblin toward the bear. If he was right, the bear would bite or eat the goblin—and it did.
If he was wrong… well, best not to think about that.
Since there was still undigested poison on the goblin's body and some of it was already on its meat, it was as if the bear had eaten a huge amount of poison directly; therefore, it was affected.
Of course, at the moment this was a significant loss. He sacrificed all his creatures, nearly died, and used most of his resources. But the chance of subduing the bear was worth it. If he succeeded in doing it, the gains would be massive.
Still, the situation remained dire. His body was badly wounded, though the healing rune had already stopped the bleeding. Besides this, he had limited time. Based on earlier tests with rabbits, a creature that ate the poison directly would be paralyzed for a full day. Faust estimated that, due to the diluted dose through the goblin's body, the bear might stay unconscious for three to four hours at most.
Gritting his teeth, Faust stood up and grabbed another wooden javelin from the sack. He walked toward the bear. If it was like other animals, its paws should already be damaged. Slowly, he started thrusting the javelin into its paw, using all his remaining strength. This javelin held many low-powered runes; once it was inside the paw, that would be enough. Faust placed a javelin in each leg, then backed off and detonated them. The bear didn't move. But now, its paws bled heavily—it wouldn't be able to walk for a long time.
Faust gathered grenade stones and scattered them around the battlefield. Then, he found a tree and began recovering his mana. He rested but didn't sleep. And he wouldn't until the bear was under his control. Wild animals avoided the area, scared off by the bear's mere presence. Even heavily wounded, it inspired fear.
A full day later, Faust's injuries had improved. He approached the now-awake bear, which roared at him. Though it couldn't walk, it could still move its head. Faust proceeded with extreme caution. He couldn't afford any mistakes while drawing the rune.
The bear, weakened by blood loss, resisted little. Faust removed fur from its back and began inscribing the rune on its skin. It took him half a day—normally it would take one or two hours. He double-checked the rune from every angle. When confident it was perfect, he injected mana into it.
The bear roared loudly. Faust felt a faint connection to the rune—but it was too weak. He tried to command the bear to close its mouth. It didn't obey.
"Did I fail? But why didn't it get injured like it usually does?"
"Try more. Strong will."
Red's words clarified it: this bear's will was far stronger than any creature he had tamed before. So Faust waited. As the bear bled further, it would weaken. He spent three days injecting mana into the rune. Each time, the connection grew stronger. On the fourth day, he issued a command once again. This time, the bear obeyed.
The mental strain was worse than when he controlled four goblins. This bear's will was immense.
All the losses—his goblin, boar, and wolf. His health, his gear, his entire battlefield. It was all worth it to him. If given the chance, he'd do it again.
This bear was far stronger than his previous creatures, stronger even than himself. But thankfully, it lacked the mind to match its power.
Faust was satisfied. The battle was over.
The all-in paid off.
He won.