No time was wasted. They weaved through the narrow side alleys and emerged in Arc’s outskirts. Melach, carrying the Mage Wand, rushed ahead, his eyes burning fiercely, while his robe fluttered in the wind.

Torb appeared next to David as they followed the Elf’s hurried strides.

“Was it really necessary to mention his family?”

David shook his head, “It wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like the easiest way to convince Melach to leave at once.”

“And now we’re headed to the southern Rift with a bunch of idiots. Perfect,” Torb grumbled into his beard.

They were headed to one of the three Common Rifts instead of the odd Demon-type Rift. It was not because it was the most dangerous, per se, but because of a simple fact: The fewest fighters headed to the southern Rift. Only ten people, which included their team of three, headed that way, while more than 20 teams attacked the Demon-type Rift.

Melach led the way. He left Arc’s safety behind and accelerated as they reached the highway connecting to the city. The southern Rift wasn’t located in the city but materialized close to its outskirts near a small forest. Since the highway was mostly intact and almost void of Infected, it only took them ten minutes to reach the Rift. On the way, Melach released a lesser version of [Arcane Blast] to eliminate a few pesky Infected.

The Elf didn’t even slow down until he found the Rift. He regulated his breath and inspected the raging vortex in the sky intently.

The vortex was dyed in a palate of purple tones, significantly contrasting the verdant land around it. David couldn’t see everything at first glance, but the vortex hovered several meters above a grass field beside the highway. Behind the vortex was a forest filled with yellowish-glowing eyes.

The vortex raged, shifted colors multiple times as it expanded, and deflated suddenly as it spit out gray-furred creatures. They walked on four legs and had long snouts, razor-sharp fangs, and extensive claws that dug deep into the wet soil. Their predatory eyes turned to the prey that came voluntarily to them. A cacophony of growls resounded, and the yellow slits merged with the forest began to move.

Their time to hide had ended. May the hunt begin.

“Wolves. Dozens of them,” David murmured, unsheathing his sword.

Torb groaned, “We call them Fangs. The Aether fueling their bodies strengthens their senses and muscles, granting them more strength and speed than their aetherless brethren.”

The Fangs were larger than the average wolf, even if only by ten to twenty centimeters. Their weapons looked dangerous, and they didn’t seem to be afraid of confrontation. The newly spawned Fangs spun to Melach as the Elf released an [Arcane Blast], breaking the neck of a brethren. Meanwhile, the other Fangs charged out of the forest in unison. They acted as one, stepped on the highway, and circled the others.

Only twenty Fangs dashed to David and his group, but nobody complained. Not even David.

His heart raced as he observed the Fangs. Their entire being represented the horrors of apex predators. They were fast, strong, and intelligent, and they worked together to wear down their enemies and eliminate them cleanly.

Their bloodlust filled his entire view…or was he just imagining things? David could sense their bloodlust. It almost felt like he could smell and sense it as well. All his senses screamed at him, sharing their united opinion—their fear and awe—of the apex predators charging at him.

The signs should have been enough for David to back off and fight defensively, eliminating one Fang at a time, but David acted as he pleased.

He charged ahead while using [Bless] on himself, Melach, and Torb. The range of [Bless] didn’t reach the others, or he would have also given them a boost, but that was fine. It was only a matter of minutes before he would get to them, too.

A blue mass the size of David’s fist whisked past his head at a shocking velocity. It missed him by a hair’s breadth and smashed heavily into a Fang’s face, crushing the monster’s snout in one go. The monster wasn’t dead but yelped in pain and was about to fall back when David appeared before it. The injured Fang’s friends jumped in to help, but so did Torb. The Dwarf used [Charge] on the Fang to David’s right, smashing his heavy shield in the Fang’s face before his mace followed, breaking its neck in one go.

David’s longsword cut deep into the injured Fang’s chest. He didn’t wait for the kill notification, ripped the blade out of the monster’s chest, and twisted his body to the side, evading the pounce of another Fang. Its claws hit David, but the injury wasn’t deep. David spun around, ignoring the wound, and beheaded the Fang in one move.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Blood splattered everywhere. The sight would have horrified him a week ago, but he only noticed it because his heartbeat accelerated. The blood’s warmth on his skin and the cacophony of pained yelps, terrified screams, and metal cutting deep into his flesh did something to David. It affected him. Maybe not forever, but it influenced his body and mind for a moment.

The scent of blood and death surged to David, who suddenly began to move sharper. He kicked the ground and leaped forward. David heard someone shout something. It could have been Melach, whose [Arcane Blast] shot past him, shattering a Fang’s skull, killing the unfortunate creature on the spot, but David couldn’t hear him.

He moved through the battlefield, ignored the Fangs pouncing on him, and focused only on one or two at a time. His shoulders hurt as a monster’s fangs dug deep into them, but the weight was taken from him as Torb’s mace smashed the target’s head to smithereens. David killed a few more Fangs in the next few seconds. They tried to take him down and wear him out by inflicting various wounds all over his body, but they didn’t succeed.

Another [Arcane Blast] nearly struck David. It smashed into the Fang, who’d pounced on his back, breaking its spine, while Torb’s mace flung past David, always missing him by a beat but never the target.

Only a few seconds could have passed since David dashed ahead, but more than a dozen Fangs were already dead. He was covered in wounds, but using [Cure Wounds] once was enough to stop the bleeding.

Leveling up [Cure Wounds] was worth it.

He smiled while using the Skill Rune once more. The faintest claw marks closed right away while the remaining wounds tormenting David regenerated rapidly.

“Is everyone alright?” David asked, while his smile widened subconsciously.

“You look like a fucking lunatic,” Torb snorted, while Melach added, “He does not only look like one. He is a fucking lunatic!”

David smirked, “I take that as a yes.”

The nearby Fangs considered attacking them, but the remnants of confidence were shattered when Melach conjured a fireball. They run away, their tails tucked firmly between their legs. Their attention drifted to their brethren, who were more successful with their hunt. The Fangs attacking the seven combatants inflicted several grievous wounds, which nobody could heal. Their blood sprawled everywhere as they grew weaker.

Close to one-quarter of the Fangs had died to [Mana Bullets], arrows, or a Warrior’s [Slash], but the rest of the pack was unscathed. They circled the Protectors and attacked only when one of the Protectors lowered his guard. The Fangs snapped after the Protectors. They pounced forward, only to retreat when they created an opening for one of their brethren.

Their teamwork was impeccable. It took David by great surprise.

“Why didn’t they fight like this against us?” He murmured while Torb rushed past him, shaking his head in denial.

“They tried to, but it didn’t work. Who can fault them for that? Their prey was a crazy idiot, after all.” Torb accelerated and reached the pack of dozens of Fangs in no time. He greeted them with a [Charge], stunning one of them while activating [Crush] on another Fang.

Melach walked past David, mumbling something in a different language as he conjured several small mana bullets. They looked even smaller than Flora’s [Mana Bullet], but the damage they’ve inflicted couldn’t be underestimated. Melach’s projectiles shot through the air, leaving behind several trails before they disappeared in three Fangs’ eyes and maws. Their eyes burst apart, just like their throats. Two out of three collapsed dead on the ground, while the third took an arrow to the neck.

David clicked his tongue and bellow, “Don’t take away my fun!”

In time, he reached the other group, charged into the masses of Fangs, and slaughtered several on his way to the inner circle. He was greeted by several injured humans, two Elves, and a warrior of a race David didn’t recognize.

“Hey there,” David smiled at them, his hands glowing brightly, “I heard you guys need some healing.”

He spun around, his blade cleaving through the lower belly of two pouncing Fangs in one go, and returned to the injured folk.

“The bloody Cleric to your service!”

As the words escaped David’s lips, the Rift expanded. It crackled loudly, commanding attention, as it spit out three larger wolves alongside one massive creature.

The Rift Boss and his underlings had arrived.

David barely saw the frame of the great wolves when one of them blurred. One of the Mini-Bosses vanished and appeared in the circle of Protectors.

Its claw swept through the masses, ripping the well-armed Warrior into shreds.

The Warrior’s blood, body parts, and intestines spurted in all directions while his eyes widened in terror.

Didn’t Torb say their idiot of a Warrior is already at the Bronze Rank?

David’s eyes lingered on the Warrior’s remains, pursing his lips.

Not anymore though.

David had no idea how strong the Warrior had been, but he could tell one thing for sure.

The Rift Boss had to be a fucking monstrosity if the Mini-Boss was already this strong!!