The whole wolf pack. Twice the numbers from before—and every one of them was now circling Tave.
He stood frozen, breath tight, sweat chilling on his skin. His heart, It felt like it had stopped entirely.
He had been careful. So careful. Watching every step, tracking every scent, staying alert for the smallest sound.
But it wasn't enough.
These wolves… They were trained predators. Coordinated. Silent. Focused.
And they had come for him.
He hadn't even sensed them until it was too late. Not a sound, not a rustle. They were simply—there, emerging from the shadows as if the forest itself had given them form.
This was not a random encounter.
They had hunted him. Tracked him. Waited.
And now, they had him surrounded.
He turned his eyes slowly, trying not to make any sudden moves, but he could see it—there was no way out.
No opening. No escape.
Just fangs, eyes, and killing intent from every direction.
What should he do?
For a second, his mind spun with desperate ideas. Maybe he could use Fang to draw their attention, create a diversion, throw a smoke bomb, and run in the chaos.
But no.
That wouldn't work again.
The last time, he barely escaped using those tactics. Wolves weren't stupid—they learned.
And more importantly—he wasn't about to sacrifice Fang. Not for anything.
But he was trapped. Well and truly.
His instincts were screaming—run, fight, disappear—but there was nowhere to run, nothing to fight that wouldn't trigger the entire pack, and no way to vanish from eyes that were built for hunting in the dark.
He clenched his fists.
Even after the Bloodline Override… even with all the enhancements he'd gained, even with his night vision, his strength, his speed, he was still trapped.
This area wasn't even supposed to be their territory. He'd gone further out, avoided their previous zone entirely.
But it didn't matter. They had followed him.
Because two nights ago, he had taken something from them.
And now…
They were here to take it back.
Tave's breath hitched.
From the shadow directly in front of him—it stepped out.
A wolf. No—a monster.
Massive.
Easily as tall as his own eyes, and Tave wasn't a small man. Its body was built with sheer muscle, every movement radiating raw, lethal power. Its fur was darker than midnight, almost absorbing the light around it, and the weight of its presence alone felt like it could crush him.
This thing wasn't just massive. It had to be a Tier 3.
A true alpha predator.
Tave didn't need a system prompt or a level-check to know—one breath from that creature, and he'd be gone.
"Hell… this is hell…" he muttered, frozen. His fingers twitched. His throat was dry. His mind screamed, but his body wouldn't move.
It was over.
There was no surviving this.
Beside him, Fang lowered his body instinctively, growling low, the fur on his back standing straight up. The sound was raw, threatening, despite the difference in size.
And then the massive wolf—the alpha—stepped toward Fang.
Its glowing red eyes narrowed as it towered over the little one.
Fang barked back, sharp and defiant.
The massive wolf stopped, stared. Its lips curled.
And then it growled.
A deep, chest-rattling growl that shook the very air around them. The trees trembled. Even the ground seemed to flinch.
But Fang didn't back down.
The little wolf kept barking, kept stepping forward, tail stiff, eyes locked upward at the monstrous figure looming above.
The alpha growled again—louder. The kind of sound that split silence, that commanded.
But Fang didn't flinch.
He barked again. Again. Again.
Snapping his jaws with force and fury.
Tave watched, stunned, almost breathless.
What were they saying to each other?
He couldn't understand, but he could feel it—Fang wasn't submitting. He was standing his ground.
It was like…
He was threatening the alpha.
Warning it.
That he had chosen his side.
Chosen Tave.
Even with death looming, even facing a wolf that could crush him in a single blow…
Fang stood beside him.
It sent a shock through Tave's chest—part fear, part awe.
The pack was still surrounding them. No openings. No escape.
And the wrong move—any move—could be fatal.
But still…
For the first time, the scene didn't feel like a complete death sentence.
There was something in that standoff—some invisible, unspoken language—being exchanged between the wolves.
And right now, Fang was in the center of it. Defying death itself.
The massive wolf stepped forward—and passed over Fang.
Tave couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Fang barked sharply, still defiant, still protective, even as the towering beast walked right past him.
And now, it was coming for Tave.
Those glowing red eyes fixed on him, burning with something ancient—something primal.
The massive wolf stopped just short of reaching him. It didn't strike, didn't pounce, didn't bare its fangs.
It simply stood there.
Staring.
And then, a low growl rumbled from its throat.
Not loud. Not explosive. But deep. So deep it felt like it pulled at Tave's very soul, like the sound alone could unravel him.
His heart stopped again.
This was it.
This was the death incarnate standing before him. A predator so perfect it didn't even need to make a show of it. Just its presence was enough to remind him—you are nothing.
And yet, for some reason… it didn't attack.
It stepped closer. Its massive head loomed over him, jaws so big they could end him in one snap.
Tave's mind scrambled for hope, some sliver of logic—maybe it'll let me go… just this once… maybe—
But one thing was certain.
He would never, ever stand before a wolf pack again unless he was stronger. Much stronger.
The massive wolf lifted its head.
And then it howled.
The sound tore through the forest like a tidal wave—powerful, chilling, deafening.
It wasn't just a howl.
It was a declaration.
A claim.
This wolf ruled this forest. This territory. This night. And its voice made that law clear to all who could hear it.
One by one, the other wolves joined in.
The night echoed with a chorus of howls, wild and terrifying, until it felt like the entire forest was screaming death.
Tave couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't move. All he could do was wait—wait for judgment.
And then, silence.
The massive wolf looked at him one last time.
Its eyes, unblinking.
Tave could smell its breath—the scent of blood and decay and nature itself.
Then, slowly…
It dissolved into shadow.
Fading.
Gone.
Tave's eyes widened.
The other wolves backed away, one by one. The glowing red eyes in the trees disappeared, like coals being snuffed out.
They were leaving.
Yes—they were leaving.
He stood there, frozen, heart racing. He didn't dare move until the last glint of red vanished into the dark.
Only then—when the silence returned—did he feel his lungs fill again.
He was alive.
Somehow.
He had survived.
Tave collapsed onto the ground, falling hard onto his back, then sliding down until he sat there—shaking.
His whole body felt cold, like all the warmth had been drained out of him.
His breath was shallow. His hands trembled.
What had just happened… wasn't something he'd be able to forget anytime soon.
The wolves—they let him live. But deep down, he knew that meant something more. Something far heavier than mercy.
Little Fang trotted over, jumping softly into his lap and letting out a quiet, almost uncertain, "Woof."
Tave slowly rested his hand on the pup's head, exhaling deeply.
Because he understood now.
That Tier 3 wolf didn't leave out of pity.
It hadn't spared him because it saw him as harmless.
No—it left because of Fang.
Because Fang… was meant to grow. To evolve.
To return one day and challenge the current leader.
That massive wolf had given time. Given space. So that the pup could become its rival.
When the time came, that Tier 3 wolf would return, and the final battle for leadership of the pact would begin.
Tave closed his eyes and let the reality of that sink in.
And that was just a Tier 3. There were monsters in this world with power far beyond even that.
He had barely survived this. And the world wasn't going to get any kinder.
Tave clenched his fists, chest rising and falling with slow, uneven breaths.
He had to become strong.
Desperately strong.
And fast.