Del dismissed the quiet beeping in his mind—notifications of other messages, but they could wait. His focus remained on the present, his body still thrumming with exhaustion as the last remnants of adrenaline drained away, leaving him feeling spent and unsteady.
He took a knee, breathing hard, his grip tightening on his sword, using it as a brace to stop himself from collapsing completely. His muscles ached, his hip throbbed, and the metallic tang of blood—his own and the ashfangs'—still clung to the air.
Footsteps pounded against the dirt. Elara. She was running toward him.
Back at the tents, Naomi’s soft, fear-choked sobs filled the night, the sound fragile against the vast silence left in the wake of the battle. Misty padded over, sniffing at Del with quick, assessing movements. Assured he wasn’t mortally wounded, she turned away, her tail flicking with purpose as she headed toward the frightened girl.
‘Heal,’ she told him simply. ‘I will tend the kitten.’
Elara reached him and dropped into a crouch at his side, her bow forgotten as her hands moved instinctively toward him, searching for injuries.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, her voice edged with concern.
Del met her gaze—her face was pale, her eyes searching his with something dangerously close to fear. Not fear of the fight, but fear for him.
He exhaled, reaching out to take her hand, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance.
“A bit of a bang to my hip, and that big wolf got into my arm a bit,” he admitted, offering a wan smile.
Elara’s eyes flicked downward—and her expression darkened instantly.
"Del—" Her voice was sharp with alarm as she grabbed his left forearm and turned it slightly.
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could really feel it—the raw, burning throb beneath the torn leather of his sleeve. Blood had seeped through, matting fabric against shredded skin. The Alpha’s fangs had punctured deep, leaving a mess of torn flesh, already swollen and tender to the touch.
He hissed through his teeth as she peeled back the sleeve, exposing the injury fully.
“Shit,” Elara muttered. "This isn’t just ‘a bit of a bite,’ Del—he nearly tore your arm apart!"
“It’s not that bad,” Del started, but she shot him a glare that could have killed a weaker man on the spot.
Wordlessly, she dug into her belt pouch, retrieving silverbloom ointment and pressing it into the worst of the wounds. The cool, herbal scent filled the air as she worked.
“Hold that,” she ordered, placing a pad over the top and shoving his own hand against the poultice before reaching for her waterskin.
Del gritted his teeth as she poured cold water over his arm, washing away the excess blood. The sting was immediate and sharp, but nothing compared to the fresh burn as the silverbloom paste sank into the wound. His fingers tensed involuntarily against the pain.
Elara didn’t pause. She pulled a length of clean bandage from her pack and began wrapping the arm tightly.
“This is just to hold it,” she muttered, securing the knot with practiced efficiency. “You’re still going to be sore as hell, but at least you won’t bleed out and the wounds will close up in an hour or two.”
Del smirked, despite the pain. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
She shot him a look but didn’t argue.
Elara shifted her attention to his hip, her brow furrowing as she noticed the darkening patch on his leathers.
“How bad?” she asked.
Del sighed. “Mostly bruised, I think. The claws glanced me, didn’t dig too deep.”
Elara didn’t take his word for it—she was already loosening his belt to check for herself.
Del huffed. “Usually, I like a bit more warning before you start pulling at my clothes.”
Elara rolled her eyes. “Shut up and let me see.”
She tugged the fabric aside, revealing a deep bruise forming across his side, tinged with red where the claws had grazed the skin. It would ache like hell, but compared to his arm, it was nothing.
She reached for her pouch again, this time pulling out a large pot of feldspar paste and rubbing it into the bruised area.
Del hissed again, more out of instinct than pain. The cooling effect was almost immediate, the tension in his hip easing slightly.
“You’re going to feel that in the morning,” she said, rubbing the remainder of the mixture into his skin before fastening his leathers back into place.
Del let out a slow breath. “Yeah. But at least I’ll still be in one piece.”
Elara sat back on her heels, regarding him with narrowed eyes. Then, with zero warning, she flicked him lightly on the forehead.
“Ow. What the hell?” Del scowled.
“That,” she said, arms crossing over her chest, “was for lying about your injuries, you absolute idiot.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“…Fair.”
Del let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulder —and instantly regretted it. His arm throbbed, his hip ached, and now that the fight was truly over, the sheer weight of everything crashed down on him at once.
His limbs felt heavy, like he was moving through deep water. His head buzzed, a dull, persistent ache throbbing behind his eyes. His body wanted to give in—to sink onto the ground and let sleep take him where he sat.
For a few long seconds, he just stared at the bloodstained dirt beneath him, breathing through the exhaustion. The scent of blood, fire, and damp earth filled his lungs. The fire crackled softly, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed them only moments ago.
A hand brushed against his, grounding him.
He glanced up to find Elara watching him, her usual smirk replaced by something quieter.
“You alright?” she asked, softer this time.
Del forced a small smirk, though it felt heavier than usual. “Just… catching up to myself.”
She studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “We should deal with the bodies. If you sit too long, you’ll seize up.”
Del let out a tired chuckle, forcing himself to his feet, every muscle protesting the decision.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Let’s get it done.”
The crying from Naomi’s tent had quieted now, reduced to soft, muffled sniffling. That was a good sign. Del turned and made his way over, moving carefully, his muscles stiff and aching from the fight.
Poking his head through the tent flap, he found Naomi curled up on her sleeping mat, small arms wrapped tightly around Misty. The cat, normally resistant to such confining displays of affection, tolerated it with an uncharacteristic patience. Instead of claws and indignant hissing, Misty remained still, her purring a steady, soothing hum. Occasionally, she reached up to give Naomi’s nose a rough-tongued lick, eliciting a quiet giggle from the girl.
‘Good girl, Misty,’ Del murmured mentally. ‘Great job.’
Misty, still nestled in the child’s arms, gave him a sage response. ‘Kitten just needed comfort.’
With a wriggle, she freed herself, nuzzling Naomi once more before slipping from the girl’s grip and padding toward the tent entrance, resuming her watch outside.
Del crouched slightly, lowering his voice. “Are you alright, Naomi?” he asked gently. “I’m sorry, that was a bit scary, but they’re gone now.”
Naomi’s large brown eyes met his, filled with lingering emotion, but her expression was defiant. “I wasn’t really scared,” she said firmly.
Del’s lips twitched. “That’s good then.” He reached forward, tucking the blankets up around her chin as she settled down again. “Try to get back to sleep. It’s not morning yet.”
Naomi nodded, snuggling deeper into her blankets.
With one last look to make sure she was truly settled, Del slipped back out of the tent, leaving the girl in the warmth and safety of her dreams.
Outside, the aftermath of the battle lay in stark relief against the fire’s glow. Cooling bodies of the fallen ashfangs were strewn across the clearing, their dark fur glistening with the last traces of warmth. The air was thick with the scent of blood and churned earth, undercut by the lingering smoke from the fire.
Elara was already at work, dragging the final carcass toward the others near the alpha’s fallen form. Her movements were brisk, efficient—no hesitation, no wasted effort.
Del watched her for a moment. As he crossed the distance between them, he spotted his sword on the ground, he picked it up and wiped the blade before sheathing it. He joined the elf, wrapping his arms around her in a brief but firm embrace. She didn’t resist, only let out a soft huff of air before smiling.
“That was pretty mad for a while,” he murmured.
“That,” she said, flashing a grin, “was bloody awesome.”
Del let out a breathy chuckle and bent down to help, tugging arrows free from the beasts where they still stuck. Most were salvageable, though a few had splintered or bent on impact. His fingers brushed the hilt of his venom dagger, still embedded in the massive alpha’s side. With a grunt, he yanked it free, wiping the darkened blade against the beast’s thick fur before sheathing it once more.
Elara, meanwhile, crouched by one of the carcasses, inspecting the quality of its pelt.
“The skins should fetch a good price,” she said, running her hand over the thick, coarse fur. “The meat, though—not worth eating. We either burn it, bury it, or leave it for the scavengers.”
Del nodded, already stripping his own ashfang of its hide. “Just leave it. I don’t want the stink of burning meat hanging over us, and I don’t have the energy to dig a pit big enough for all of them.”
Elara gave an approving nod before setting to work herself, her blade slicing neatly through the hide of the large alpha. She worked fast, the skin peeling away with an almost practiced ease.
“You fought well,” Del remarked as he peeled another layer of hide from his latest kill. “Took down two on your own, landed an arrow in one of Misty’s kills, and helped with the big one too.”
She smirked. “Couldn’t let you take all the credit, could I?”
Del huffed, shaking his head. ‘No, but BB and the system seem to credit me with all of them,’ he mused internally, recalling the message that had flickered into his vision after the fight.
‘I imagine the same goes for Misty. Wonder if she gets system notifications or just a series of mysterious ethereal meows.’
He was halfway through skinning another ashfang when Elara’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Del.”
“Mmm?” He barely looked up, focused on working the hide free from the muscle beneath.
“You’re laughing at your own jokes again,” she observed, clear amusement laced in her tone.
“Oh, sorry,” he muttered with a sheepish grin. “Spent too long on my own before I ended up here.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “I was usually the best conversationalist in the room.”
That earned him a real laugh, bright and unguarded. The sound was a welcome shift from the tension that had clung to them all night.
They worked in companionable silence after that, the rhythmic slice of blades against hide filling the air as they gathered the intact pelts. Del stored them safely away, tucking them into the storage ring before shaking the stiffness from his hands.
The last thing to do was clean up.
They took turns washing up at the river, scrubbing away the grime, blood, and remnants of the fight. The water was bracingly cold, but refreshing, banishing the last dregs of exhaustion clinging to his body.
They left their rinsed clothes to dry by the fire before heading back to the tent, fatigue beginning to settle deep into their bones.
As they lay back, Elara shifted closer, her warmth pressing against his side.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” she murmured, voice thick with exhaustion.
Del considered the question, turning over what he’d learned from Identify, what he knew of pack behaviour. He gave a slow shake of his head.
“I don’t think so,” he admitted. “We hit them hard, took down their leader. That kind of loss doesn’t just get shrugged off.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, but still, she nestled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “Either way, let’s clear out of here early tomorrow.”
Del wrapped an arm around her, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head. “Agreed. Now sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out, the slow rise and fall of her chest signalling that she was already drifting.
For a while, Del just lay there, listening to the night. Misty was still out there, keeping watch, and Naomi had settled back into sleep.
Finally, he let out a sigh and turned his attention to the persistent beeping still nudging at the edges of his mind.
‘Alright, BB, no need to nag. What have you got for me?’
The system responded immediately.
[You have advanced the skill: Skinning.]
[You have learned the skill: Two-Handed Melee. Don’t trip and cut off a finger.]
[Congratulations. You have enough experience to level up—would you like to level up now?]
Del exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired. His body screamed for rest.
‘Don’t be an idiot. You need to be stronger more than you need a few zzz’s.’
Fair enough.
‘Yes.’
A wave of something deep and visceral rushed through him—a familiar sensation by now, but no less intense. Strength surged through his limbs, the fatigue retreating slightly as his body adjusted to the new increase in power.
He checked the details.
Two full levels.
Misty had gained one as well.
That put them both above the standard for most sapients in Gondowa.
That was good.
That meant they were stronger.
Stronger meant safer. For him. For Elara. For Naomi.
For all of them.
He weighed his choices carefully before assigning the four new attribute points.
Two into Strength. That much was obvious.
But that gaze attack from the Alpha had shaken him. He didn’t want to experience that kind of paralysis again.
Two into Intelligence. A guess, but a calculated one.
He reviewed his new stats, committing them to memory.
Satisfied, he closed his eyes and let sleep finally take him.
Name: Del Axholm
Level: 6
Path: Archer
Health: 48
Strength: 20
Dexterity: 18
Stamina: 19
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 12
Mana: 42
Spirit: 24
Agility: 22
Presence: 10
Animal Companion: Misty; feline
Skills:
Archery lvl 3 – Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows
Woodcraft lvl 3 – Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.
Tracking lvl 2 – Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.
Traps lvl 1 – Can make basic snares and pit traps.
Sneak lvl 3 – Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.
Herbalism lvl 2 – Can identify and gather basic herbs.
Skinning lvl 3 – Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.
Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.
Attacks:
Bow lvl 3 – Simple Shot.
Sword lvl 5 – Cut, thrust.
Dagger lvl 3 – Stab, Slash.
Special Attacks:
Bow:
Sneak attack lvl 1 – Doubles damage
Master Archer lvl 1 – Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.
Dagger:
Backstab lvl 2 – Double damage.
Two Handed Melee lvl 1 – Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.
Name: Misty
Level: 6
Path: Feline Companion
Health: 46
Strength: 11
Dexterity: 20
Stamina: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 6
Mana: 25
Spirit: 15
Agility: 24
Presence: 14
Skills:
Charm lvl 4 – Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.
Attacks:
Claw lvl 5 – Attack with front claws.
Rake lvl 4 – Double rear leg attack.
Bite lvl 5 – It’s teeth all the way
Special Attacks:
Pounce lvl 6 – Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.
Sneak Pounce lvl 3 – As above; Triple damage.