Demon Wolf

“In that case, I propose an alliance.” Sylvie’s voice sounded from the callingjade, seemingly undisturbed by her friends’ demise.

However, while the final ‘e’ still echoed, Wolf shook his head, recalling a passage from The Ruler’s Way. “Not interested. Even if you aren’t a disciple from the three sects, which is not impossible, the logic of enemy of my enemy is my friend is delusional in a free-for-all like Corpsewood.”

“But—” Sylvie started, however, Wolf interrupted her attempted rebuttal.

“And even if I was open to cooperation, how would we locate each other? Corpsewood has no poles, no north or south; the artificial sun sits affixed at the center of the fake sky, and the terrain lacks distinctive features; the only directions we can reliably use are rim-wards and center-wards, and we have no idea whether we are on the same radial line. In fact, we almost certainly aren’t.”

“Um?”

“I can only wish you the best of luck.” Wolf continued after a moment of Sylvie’s stunned silence. “Avoid unfavorable fights; strike quickly whenever possible and don’t hunker down; stay on the move. If they collected enough callingjades with your contact, they will be able to locate you, assuming they have someone with half a brain—”

Wolf’s fatherly advice came to an abrupt stop as he uttered those words. Shit! Jake exchanged his ID with gods know how many people during our stay in Earth Pavilion and on the way over.

He bit his lips and calculated for a split second. I would need twenty-odd hours of conservative running to cover Corpsewood’s circumference; and that’s without encountering Monster Beasts and hostile disciples, which is impossible unless I focus on stealth, which would reduce my speed.

I guess Jake has to toughen up or die. The thought made Wolf’s guts churn. How humiliating. I’m actually powerless to save a random underling in this place. All I can do is hope his wit is sharp enough and his life is tough enough.

Shit! I should’ve at least given him some of the lifesaving talismans I bought. No, wait. It shouldn’t be that bad. Unless his luck is horrible, he should figure out what’s happening. The simplest way to survive is to drop or store his callingjade, then hide in a random place far away from his last known location.

Wolf’s heart eased. He had enough faith in Jakob’s brain to handle an obvious threat, and he focused on another correlatory conclusion. Once they figure out I eliminated their disciples, Brilliant Gate’s people will be able to locate me using all the callingjades I’m carrying.

Do I care?

How many of them would need to gather to threaten me?

Wolf did not know the exact number, but he guessed he could handle two dozen attackers by relying on his awakened senses and superior information processing speed. If he added the advantage of his Star Body, he believed he could mow down at least a hundred enemies.

I should whittle their numbers every chance I get.

“Thanks,” he said after a moment of silence during which he had reached all those conclusions.

“Huh?” The other party had no idea where Wolf’s gratitude came from, but before they could ask, he continued talking.

“Stay safe; prioritize your life. Treasures are worthless if you die.” Wolf tapped Sylvie’s name once more, ending the call.

***

Wolf had made a perfect argument. One which Sylvie could not argue against. For one, she was dead; and, given her circumstances, treasures had become worthless to her. However, that was not the case for the three Brilliant Gate’s disciples gathered around their senior apprentice sister, who held a voice altering artifact in one hand and a white communication jade in the other.

“This boy speaks like a collection of folk wisdom,” the beautiful brunette muttered, willing the hand-mirror-shaped item into her holdingring before tucking Sylvie’s callingjade into her side pocket. “He said he had avenged Quickdraw Gate’s disciples, but he didn’t appear on Earth Pavilion’s callingjade list; he’s likely from s Quickdraw Gate’s affiliate sect.”

With a thin, elegant finger, she tapped her chin. “Delphine Allard became available at the same time as Amelie Lohman and Camille Berille.”

She paused for a dramatic moment before continuing. “Notify Senior Apprentice Sister DeCrux that Delphine Allard and her group had perished, their callingjades compromised…”

What Wolf discovered through practical application and consideration of his circumstances, Brilliant Gate’s disciples had established as procedures for damage control and optimized extermination of their targets. The protocol for handling someone who had destroyed a Brilliant Gate’s party was to inform the local dispatcher, who would notify her superior and allocate five parties to pursue the target, after locating it.

Following the chain of command, the news of an insignificant second rate sect’s disciple who finished a wounded group of two reached Marie Grundhoffer. The woman chalked off the information as irrelevant and focused on her interrogation.

A bloody, nude girl hung stretched between two trees. Her left arm ended in a cauterized stump, while her right hand had only three digits remaining.

“Jakob Silentear is a boy, about fifteen years old. Demure, his hair light brown, his eyes green. He’s tall between meter-sixty-five and meter-seventy-five. The information we got regarding his height varies widely, could you perhaps give us a more accurate estimate?”

The Earth Pavilion’s disciple spat blood at her captor, soiling Marie’s already bloody leather apron.

“You are tenacious.” Marie nodded, smearing the youth’s spittle with a red kerchief. “That simply means you will suffer more before telling me what I want to know.”

With those words, the captive grunted. She clenched her jaw as her index finger fell and a spurt of blood gushed out of her maimed hand. A moment later, her teeth creaked and her eyes went wide as Marie pressed a searing knife against the wound.

“I have minor practical experience at extracting information from unwilling parties,” Brilliant Gate’s equine-faced core disciple said, her tone easygoing. “You are not unbreakable. That makes you the dumbest interrogation subject. You waste my time, waiting for me to inflict enough pain upon you until you break. Deep down, you’re a masochist, aren’t you? Why not tell me everything right from the start?”

“Would you let me live?” the captive hissed.

“Of course not; you know that.” Marie gave a frank answer. She disdained worthless lying; her victim would never buy it anyway.

“Then suffer.” With an insane glint, the strung woman spat her words and blood.

However, Marie just smiled. “I’m not suffering, you are. I’m enjoying myself. I just wish I had someone more enjoyable to play with.”

Marie’s thoughts wandered. They kept returning to that beauty she had encountered at that provincial town’s washed up inn.

Unfortunately, she was with the sect master’s daughter, and she could not snatch her superior’s entertainment. Still, that did not mean she felt no resentment towards Lena. The woman had misplaced their recreational prop, and in a roundabout manner accused Marie of stealing her boy-toy.

Marie frowned at the memory, removing her captive’s finger without bothering with questions. I’ll find you, pretty boy. Sect Master gave me the mission of coordinating all our disciples, freeing her daughter to look for treasures; but I lucked out. I found an unexpected benefit, and this time Elaine isn’t here to steal my quarry.

Unaware that he had become another’s prey, Wolf followed the imprints of three-clawed paws to a two-meter tall amber dome.

That resin is just the tip of the iceberg. Whiteflame Honeyeaters build their nests underground with a single skylight for illumination. Wolf admired the wild architect’s work. The substance used to build the bunker was see-through and brittle once dry. However, the walls were thick enough that the translucent material grew murky, obscuring the shelter’s interior.

There should be an entrance twenty meters away from the dome, obscured by bushes the Honeyeater trims regularly.

Wolf turned with deliberate slowness, but failed to locate the entryway by relying on his sight alone.

I guess I’ll have to follow the tracks. Relying on his hunting skills, he reached two Crimsonbriar bushes. At first glance, the lush, thorny plants seemed no different from their neighbors. However, the Honeyeater had removed their lower branches, while trimming those above into flat covers, spread above the descending earthen ramp.

It’s a wonder what animals can do when making their nests. Wolf moved the branch, grasping the bright-red thorns as long as his pinky. The poisonous barbs failed to pierce his reinforced skin, causing no harm, other than faint scratching.

The entrance is over a hundred meters away from the dome. He scrutinized the ground packed into near rock by the bulky creature’s frequent passing.

He drew a deep breath through the nose and smiled. I can smell the honey.

Wolf’s mouth watered. In a practiced, subconscious manner, he summoned a Sprinting Peacock nugget and tossed the fried morsel into his mouth.

I wonder how much honey it had stashed? The bestiary mentioned that once water found its way into the honey’s amber container, it could ferment into mead. Wolf swallowed the nugget and licked his lips.

 

sleepydad88

Random Roll -

Spoiler

Sylvie was not the one who called Wolf. :( Sped up some things.

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Random Roll -

Spoiler

The sect whose disciples killed Sylvie.

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