Chapter 15: Perseverence of the fitter
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The river streamed softly in the distance, its steady rhythm almost hypnotic against the quiet of the night. I lay in ambush within the same bush as before. Twigs and leaves pressed against my skin, their touch like cold needles, but I ignored the discomfort. My breath was slow and measured. My grip on the dagger was firm.
I had been waiting for a while now.
The moon was high and casted pale silver over the snow-laden world, when I sensed it—movement from within the forest. A shadow stirred and shifted between the trees. Then, a scent hit me, sharp and unmistakable.
Blood.
The iron tang of it filled my nostrils, thick and cloying. I fought the urge to gag and instead tightened my hold on the dagger. My fingers, small and cold, curled instinctively around the hilt.
Then, something emerged.
A massive wolf-like creature stepped into the clearing. Its breath curled in the frozen air, misting before its muzzle. The beast was old, its fur tinged with silver along its sides, yet there was something unnatural about it. Its fur held a faint blue sheen, almost as if frost clung to its coat, and its claws—gleaming like carved ice—told me everything I needed to know.
This was no ordinary beast.
The wolf lowered its head, its nose twitching. Its ears flicked, and then—
Its golden eyes locked onto mine.
A deep growl rumbled from its throat, low and dangerous, vibrating through the still night air right into my heart.
My chest tightened. My heart lurched violently against my ribs.
It had smelled me.
For a moment, I was frozen. Every instinct screamed at me to move, to act, to do something, but my body refused to obey. The wolf took a slow step forward, its muscles coiling beneath its thick hide, its breath heavy and steady.
Fight or flight?
I exhaled sharply. My thoughts raced, weighing the odds in a heartbeat. I had the dagger, but the beast was stronger, faster. I didn't know the extent of its abilities—magic was a real possibility. Engaging it now would be reckless.
No. I had to run.
I took a single step back. The snow crunched beneath my foot.
The wolf lunged.
Adrenaline flooded my veins as I turned and ran.
The world blurred as my legs pounded against the snow, each step crunching in rapid succession. My breath came in ragged bursts, the frozen air burning my throat. Branches whipped at my face as I weaved through the trees, my vision bouncing with every frantic stride.
Behind me, the sound of pursuit was deafening—snow scattering, claws raking against ice, heavy breaths closing in.
It was fast.
Too fast.
Panic clawed at my chest, my lungs straining under the bitter cold. My body felt small, fragile. My legs screamed in protest, but I couldn't stop. If I did, I would die.
Then—
The moonlight shifted.
The cold, biting and merciless, suddenly softened. The shadows stretched and shimmered, no longer hostile but gentle. A strange warmth washed over me, like the embrace of something ancient and knowing.
A whisper, not of words, but of feeling, curled around my mind.
I felt it before I spoke it.
"Moonlight Veil."
The world changed.
A soft glow enveloped me—not bright, not harsh, but quiet, wrapping around my body like a delicate layer of mist.
My steps became lighter. The snow beneath me no longer crunched. The air no longer carried my scent. The frantic hammering of my heart dulled into silence.
And then—I faded.
Not into darkness. Not into nothingness.
But into the world itself.
The chase had ended.
I slowed, turning to face the beast.
The wolf stood still, its ears pricked, its head snapping left and right. Its nose twitched desperately, but it found nothing.
It had lost me.
I watched, hidden within the moon's embrace.
Slowly, carefully, I stepped forward. The dagger felt cool in my palm as I raised it. The glow of Moonlight Veil pulsed faintly against my skin, a reminder of the power flowing through me.
The wolf's throat was exposed.
One precise movement—
A flash of silver, a whisper of air.
The blade sliced cleanly through flesh.
A shuddering breath. A heavy body slumping into the snow.
Stillness.
I exhaled, my breath visible in the cold.
For the first time since the hunt began, I allowed my body to relax.
The Magic Core inside me pulsed weakly, drained but steady. I had spent energy, but I had survived.
And in the moonlight's quiet glow, I knew—
I was not the same as before.
My "Magic Core" felt slightly drained.
With "Moonlight Veil" and "Silent Frame" together…
Nobody could hear me.
Nobody could smell me.
Nobody could see me.
A deadly combination.
I exhaled, the cold air stinging my throat, and grabbed a handful of snow to clean my dagger.
The wolf's body lay still before me. Its frozen breath had long since faded into the night.
I pulled out my small but sturdy knife, my fingers tightening around the hilt as I studied the corpse.
Dragging it back to camp was out of the question.
I wasn't strong enough to carry it, and even if I managed to drag it back, the scent of blood would only lure other predators straight to my hut.
No.
The smartest thing to do was to skin the wolf here, take the hide and some meat, and store the rest later.
I pressed the knife to its belly and made the first cut.
A wet, tearing sound echoed in the silent forest.
The stench hit me immediately—iron and blood flooding my nostrils. I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the urge to vomit.
I worked quickly, peeling the thick hide away from the flesh. Then, with practiced movements, I severed the legs, making sure to take only what I could carry.
The hide rested on my shoulder, and I secured the legs to my waist with rope.
When I arrived I threw the hide and the legs inside before heading to my storage pit—my makeshift fridge—where I carefully packed away the rest of the meat for later. I then stepped back to corspe slowly as I tried to secure all the meat.
By the time I reached my hut for the final run, dawn had begun to settle over the land, casting long shadows through the trees.
Finally, I sat down before my bonfire, the flickering flames warming my frozen fingers.
In my hands, a fresh wolf skewer roasted over the fire.
The first bite was… interesting.
It tasted a bit like beef, but with a strange aftertaste that lingered on my tongue.
I ignored it and ate.
Once my hunger was sated, I placed a bowl of snow over the fire, letting it melt into water.
Then, I took the wolf hide and sliced it into two.
I had plans for it.
I let the pieces simmer in the hot water, watching as the heat hardened the leather.
Gloves. Shoes.
That's what I would make.
By the time I lay down inside my hut, exhaustion had settled deep in my bones.
But tonight, I would sleep well.
I had survived.
And tomorrow—I would grow stronger.