"Huh?"
"You heard me right… You're gonna take a life today. It doesn't matter if it's the life of a person or a beast." Rael said, his voice more firm than it had ever been since we met.
"We just finished a Worldbuilding 101 class and you're telling me to take a life… You really have the worst sense of timing I've seen in a long while." I said, looking at Rael like he just told me "English or Spanish."
"We've been in this forest for over a month, and you've learnt things way faster than kids your age would, but you have one major problem."
"Oh, go on. Enlighten me, Professor Smokey."
"You have no kill instinct."
I blinked.
"...That sounds like a you problem."
He didn't laugh. Damn.
"The problem here is that while you have no mana/cultivation base, most kids at the peak of society who are your age are way stronger than you. Knowledge won't save you when a beast's claw is two inches away from your throat." Rael said, smoke curling into the shape of a blade.
"Today, you learn what it means to fight for survival."
I sighed, rolling my shoulders. "Fine. But if I die, I'm haunting you."
Rael's form dissipated, leaving only a whisper: "Find the wolf den northwest of here. Take care of them."
I started moving at night, because I knew that if I moved in the morning, I would be no match for the beasts' sharp eyes.
I moved low, {Hooded Armor} blending into the shadows, {Two of a Kind} humming against my palms. The air smelled like damp earth and something metallic, and that "something" was none other than blood. Fresh, red blood.
I quickly hid behind a tree and used my [Perception] to check the source of the smell, and there it was.
A massive, silver-furred wolf lay sprawled across the roots of a gnarled oak, its muzzle stained red from a recent kill. Its ears twitched before its head snapped up, golden eyes locking onto me, and with the worst sense of timing, the system screen popped up.
«---QUEST---»
[---First Kill - Kill or be Killed: Clear out the Silverfang wolf den---]
[---Rewards: +10 to a random stat---]
[---Penalty: Death---]
"Well, shit," I muttered.
The wolf lunged.
I barely dodged, the beast's claws gouging the tree behind me. My pulse roared in my ears as I whipped the gun up and fired. The pulse blast grazed its shoulder—just enough to piss it off.
Think, Daniel. Weak spots.
'These wolves have a low defense against projectiles, meaning that if I were to get out of its attack range, but still close enough to land a hit with the gun, I'll kill it without sustaining too much damage… Easy enough, right?'
I ducked under another swipe and slashed with the sword. The blade bit deep into its foreleg, black blood spraying across my face.
Black blood? Of course… It's monster blood. The scent was different too, sharper, almost metallic, yet oddly sweet. It clung to my skin, seeped into my pores. A hot, prickling sensation spread across my back, a raw, primal surge beneath my skin.
The wolf howled, a guttural sound of agony and fury. It stumbled back, its golden eyes now turning bloodshot with pure hatred. Its wounded leg buckled, but it still snarled, a low rumble vibrating through the ground.
'I need to take care of this beast quickly before it regenerates.'
My hand tightened on the gun. This was a cornered animal, an instinct-driven creature trying to survive, just like me. Rael's words echoed in my head: Today, you learn what it means to fight for survival.
And then, I felt it. A flicker. Not of fear, not of hesitation, but a cold, calculated clarity. The wolf's breathing was ragged. Its balance was off. Its injured leg was causing it to favor its other side. It was vulnerable.
I raised the gun, ignoring the black blood dripping from my hair into my eye, 'cause it wasn't mine, obviously. The blade was already shifting, retracting its razor edge, preparing to become a tile again. My target: the wolf's left shoulder, specifically the joint where the leg connected to the body. A clean shot, it would cripple it, then I'd finish it with the blade.
To perform this movement successfully, there has to be no wasted movement or sentimentality.
The wolf lunged again, a desperate, final charge.
I didn't move. Not until the last possible second. Immediately I saw a chance, my [Perception] peaked, and a phantom outline of the wolf's trajectory burned into my mind. I waited, the gun already humming, the pulse building.
Then, just as its fangs snapped an inch from my face, I pulled the trigger.
FWOOSH.
A concentrated blast of kinetic energy erupted from the gun, slamming into the wolf's shoulder. Bone shattered. Muscle tore. The wolf shrieked, a sound more human than animal, and spun in mid-air, its body collapsing with a sickening thud. It thrashed once, twice, let out a dying tremor, then lay still.
I stood over it, breathing hard, the adrenaline slowly draining. The metallic-sweet scent of its black blood was everywhere. It painted my face, stained my {Hooded Armor}, and clung to the air like a shroud.
"You don't have to point that out"
I looked down at the lifeless creature. Its golden eyes, still open, stared blankly at the moonless sky. There were no grand pronouncements, nor were there any dramatic monologues. It was just a quiet death. A life ended.
And then the sensation on my back intensified.
It wasn't just a prickling now. It was a searing heat, a tearing, growing pain that radiated from my shoulder blades. I gasped, dropping the gun and sword (which promptly reverted to tiles in my hand), and stumbled back, clutching my back. It felt like something was clawing its way out of me. And indeed, something was clawing its way out of me, because soon after, wings sprouted out of my back.