Three years later.

  Kallminol wolves rushed at Khourhatin and his monster hunter squadron. Sorisana bristled and gasped at the sight of them. Their squadron's clients, two farmers by the name of Aubron and Zephar, lurched away and began to shudder at the sight of Sorisana's fear. Not the sort of reaction you want to bring out of your client.

  But their shaking eased when they saw Khourhatin and Athtar. They didn't flinch at the arrival of the beasts. After slowly glancing at each one of them, and assessing the situation, the two of them ran at the monsters, movements swift but lax.

  Khourhatin had no doubt that Athtar was just as relaxed as he appeared. He was an E-rank after all, unlike Khourhatin who was an F-rank. Deep down his heart thumped like the beat of a drum. But he refused to let it control him. Fear weakens. Courage strengthens.

  Khourhatin breathed in deep. He focused on the mana that flowed within his soul. He triggered it, letting it flood into every inch of his body, strengthening his muscles, bringing greater clarity to his vision, and making the world around him louder and slower. A white glow covered him.

  Athtar seemed to have done the same. Except he had a higher rank of mana than him. Which was why a yellow glow enveloped him instead.

  Khourhatin glanced behind him. The farmers' bodies were tense, but they were far away. They were safe. His eyes flicked across the monsters. None of them focused their bloodthirsty glares on their clients. Good. He could fully focus on fighting.

  Khourhatin lunged at a wolf. He thrust his sword at it. The beast dashed, letting his blade stab at nothing.

  It swung its paws at him. He leapt backwards. He watched its claws slash the air a metre in front of his torso.

  He sliced at it again. Frustration flickered in his chest. It dodged out of the way of his blade once again.

  A different monster from the same pack rushed past him. He glanced backwards. It ran towards the farmers. He wanted to run back and help them.

  But he was occupied by the monster in front of him. Its body blurred as it dashed at him. A heartbeat later, its form filled his vision. It spread its maw wide and shoved its fangs towards his neck. He wrenched his body to the side. The monster's teeth scraped across his chainmail-covered shoulder. He leapt away from it.

  He landed off the edge of the forest road. Tree canopies smothered him in shadow. The gaps between bark were narrow. He had to push the wolf forwards. Getting trapped in the cramped space of a forest wouldn't be ideal against an agile kallminol wolf. Not to mention, the farmers were in danger. He needed to kill the beast quickly.

  His clients ran away from the monster chasing them. But they were too slow. He had to do something or they'd die.

  Sorisana was too busy with her own wolf, eyes bulging with fright as she dashed away from its snapping maw and slashing claws, never seeming to muster up the courage to get close and commit to an attack. She was trying her best, but it's better to do a thing quick than to get trapped in the pits of hesitation.

  Athtar was focused on the five wolves that circled around him, smirking at them as he dodged their leaps and slashed at them with ease. Despite his lack of exertion, he never once glanced at his clients. Being able to face off against so many kallminol wolves was impressive, but his playful lack of haste when dealing with the beasts was less so. Not much point in being strong if you're just gonna play around.

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  Khourhatin's wolf ran at him. He couldn't run over to the farmers and defend them. He needed to deal with this wolf quickly. He spent a long time practising his Inferno Sword Form, but was never able to perform each step perfectly. Maybe when the stakes were the highest he'd finally focus enough to do it. He didn't have a choice. He had to try. Because if he succeeded, then the wolf would die instantly. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to deal with it fast enough to save his clients.

  So when the wolf rushed at him, he pivoted to the left, letting it snap its fangs at the air behind his back. He spun to the right and slashed at the wolf. It dashed backwards letting his blade hiss through the air in front of its maw. Khourhatin kicked at the ground to jump up and into the air.

  But his foot shot down at the grass at the wrong angle. He slipped. He tripped. He stumbled onto one knee. Damn it. He still couldn't do it. The wolf leapt at him and slashed at him. He rolled, letting the wolf's claws slide across the chainmail covering his back.

  The wolf running at the farmer was about a metre away from their fleeing backs. He had to do something immediately. It'd be ridiculous to try the Inferno Sword Form again. So he snatched a dagger from his belt, he twirled it in his grasp, and threw it at the wolves running at the farmers.

  It was risky. He could miss and end up hitting one of his clients, but not as risky as trying the Inferno Sword Form again or leaving the farmer's to their own devices. It wasn't an ideal move, but life often isn't. Still gotta live anyway.

  The wolf tackled Aubron to the ground. He screamed. Claws dug into his shoulders and legs. He wriggled under it, punching and kicking at the beast. None of his flimsy strikes did anything more than ruffle its blue fur. Its maw widened and gleaming fangs snapped down at his nec-

  Khorhatin's dagger crunched into the kallminol wolf's skull. Blood splashed out of its head. It staggered to the side on wobbling legs. It tumbled off of the farmer and onto the grass beside him.

  Khourhatin turned back to the wolf in front of him. It swung its paws at his head. He ducked. But he was distracted by the dagger throw and only had half a heart beat to react. Its claws scraped across his cheek and head. He grimaced and clicked his tongue. The cost of saving a life. But he glanced at the two farmers sighing with relief. Despite the pain smothering his face and the rapid thumping in his chest at the possibility of losing his life on an F-Rank mission, it was worth it.

  He thrust his blade at the wolf. It cut through fur, but that's all it did. The wolf dashed towards him. It swung its paws. Its claws cut through his chainmail and slashed searing but shallow cuts across his torso. He ducked under another slash, and leapt backwards.

  His back hit tree bark. The wolf lunged at him. He darted away. He slashed at the beast. He slashed a shallow cut across its leg. Severed blue fur fluttered in the air.

  The wolf leapt at him. He dashed to the side. His shoulder smashed against an adjacent tree, slicing the length of his dash in half. The monster's claws slashed his oblique, through chainmail, and deep into his flesh. He winced. Blood trickled down his hip and leg.

  The monster pounced on him and tackled him to the ground. His back crashed against tree roots. Khourhatin thrust at its torso. The wolf wrenched its body away from his plunging steel. His blade darted past its torso, cutting a deep wound into its ribs. Blood dripped down the cut and dampened the blue fur, painting it crimson.

  The wolf's maw shot towards his neck. He twisted his body to the side. Its fangs missed his neck, but bit down on his left arm. He grimaced and groaned. Blood gushed out of his bicep. His left hand's grip on his sword slackened. Strength left his throbbing and pulsing arm. He gripped his sword with only his right hand. He grimaced as pain surged through him.

  He thrust it up at the wolf's neck. It swerved its head, letting the blade plunge past it. Khourhatin twirled his sword and stabbed it down at the wolf's back.

  Its widening maw and blood smothered fangs devoured his vision and descended on his face.

  Exhilaration flashed in his chest as his blade plunged into its back, sinking through flesh and crunching through ribs. Blood splashed out of its mouth, dappling his face with it. Its body weakened. Its legs wobbled. It fell off him. It tumbled onto the tree roots and slid across them, pooling blood onto the grass.

  He groaned and grimaced as he dragged himself off the floor and staggered to his feet.

  Aubron sat on the grass and Zephal took care of him. The wounds were deep and bloody, but he lived. He'd heal. That's all that mattered.