Alpha Rotwolf (lev 41)
The last leader of this once-proud pack, clinging to the frayed remains of its sanity. Once a mighty guardian, it now stands as a tragic relic of its former glory, burdened by the weight of loss and corruption. Despite the rot consuming its body and the hunger driving its kind to madness, its will to protect burns undiminished.
The Alpha stood before me, its immense bulk nearly filling the cave, its form blocking out what little light seeped through the narrow entrance. It was a living monument to power and primal grace, a beast that looked like it had stepped straight out of Nordic mythology. Even with the oozing sores that marred its decaying hide and the blackened fangs that gleamed when it snarled, it radiated a strange, haunting majesty.
Despite the rot consuming its flesh, its willpower was undeniable. This creature wasn’t driven solely by hunger like its packmates; it was something more, something greater.
It moved forward with deliberate purpose, lowering its massive head as it bared its fangs in a silent threat. Its steps were smooth and measured, a stark contrast to the jerky, feral movements of the others I’d fought. Each stride spoke of control and discipline. Even the narrow confines of the cave didn’t hinder it.
Its yellow eyes glowed with a sharp intelligence that chilled me to the core. This wasn’t a mindless predator. This was something far worse: a thinking, reasoning adversary.
I instinctively began to back away, though there was no real escape. The oppressive presence of the Alpha pressed down on me like a suffocating weight, and panic clawed at the edges of my mind. My foot caught on something, and I nearly stumbled.
The matriarch’s corpse.
Her body lay in a scorched heap, twisted and lifeless. The faint wisps of smoke curling from her ruined form filled the air with a stench so acrid it burned my throat. I gagged, my stomach twisting, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the Alpha.
I expected it to strike then, to seize the moment and tear into me while I was vulnerable. But it didn’t.
It kept moving forward, slow and deliberate. Its silence was unnerving, the quiet anticipation worse than any roar or snarl. Each step brought it closer, and I was powerless to stop it.
When it reached the matriarch’s body, it paused.
Lowering its massive head, the Alpha nudged her remains with its muzzle, sniffing as though to confirm what it already knew. For a moment, its looming frame seemed to sag, and then it threw back its head and howled.
The sound tore through the cave, so raw and primal that it felt like the earth itself might shatter beneath the weight of its grief. It wasn’t just a sound—it was a visceral expression of loss, fury, and pain.
I froze, my breath caught in my chest, as tears began to stream down my face unbidden. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, and I felt a sharp pang of guilt twist in my gut.
I did this.
What gave me the right?
The Alpha’s howl faded, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake. When it lowered its head again, the grief in its yellow eyes was gone, replaced by a fury so deep it was almost tangible.
It growled, a low, guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through the stone walls of the cave. Its rage was barely restrained, coiled like a spring ready to snap. The powerful muscles in its frame bunched and shifted, its movements taut with anticipation.
I stumbled backward, my pulse thundering in my ears as the Alpha crouched, its massive form ready to pounce.
And then it stopped.
A soft howl echoed through the cave, high-pitched and weak.
The Alpha’s glowing eyes flicked past me, to the pups huddled behind my trembling form.
Its gaze lingered on them, and I could see the calculations playing out in those brilliant yellow eyes. Its rage was palpable, but it was held in check by something stronger—its purpose.
It wanted its revenge. Every fiber of its being screamed for it. But that wasn’t its priority.
It was a protector, through and through.
And in that moment, I understood that its restraint wasn’t a sign of weakness. It was strength. It was will.
The tension between us was suffocating, a silent standoff where neither of us dared make the first move. Both predator and prey, locked in an unspoken battle of wills.
I didn’t want to hurt its pups—gods, the thought churned my stomach—but the alpha didn’t know that. I couldn’t blame it for thinking the worst. And yet, here I was, their unintentional hostage taker. Was I any better than the rot consuming them? How far was I willing to go to survive? What lines was I prepared to cross?
To my surprise, the alpha didn’t attack. Instead, it sat back on its haunches, its massive head tilting upward, muzzle parting.
“Ow...ow...”
The sound was low and mournful, almost melodic. I braced myself, expecting another devastating mental assault. My muscles tensed, ready to throw myself into action, but nothing came—no crushing wave of pain. Instead, shadows began to seep from the ground, curling like smoke before solidifying.
In mere moments, they took shape: wolves.
Not the decaying, corrupted husks I had grown used to, but shimmering, ethereal creatures. Their sleek, silver fur gleamed in the dim light, unmarred by the rot that plagued the physical pack. Their movements were fluid, predatory, yet hauntingly beautiful.
So this is what they used to be, I thought, a lump forming in my throat. Just beautiful...
The alpha stayed motionless, its glowing eyes shut tight, its massive chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths. It was controlling them directly, its focus unyielding. That was a small mercy, at least. Fighting them all at once would’ve been impossible.
Two of the spectral wolves started to flank me, their luminous forms barely making a sound. I leapt back, but before I could reorient myself, they surged forward.
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Two pounced while the others fanned out, cutting off my retreat. I ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding a set of snapping jaws, and slammed my shoulder into one of the wolves, knocking it into the other.
They tumbled, but so did I, losing my balance for a split second—a dangerous mistake.
I scrambled to my feet and drove my spear into the neck of the nearest wolf. Its mournful howl sent shivers down my spine as its body dissolved into silver motes of light, the energy scattering into nothingness.
The victory was fleeting.
The remaining wolves attacked in perfect unison, one leaping high and the other low. Their precision was terrifying. I tried to counter, but they slammed into me, and we all collapsed onto the third wolf as it struggled to stand.
My spear slipped from my grasp, clattering uselessly to the side.
One spectral wolf sank its jaws into my shoulder, the other clamping down on my ankle.
Pain flared white-hot as they pulled in opposite directions, dragging me apart like some grotesque game of tug-of-war.
The third wolf, still recovering from our earlier scuffle, had its legs twisted at an unnatural angle. Bones jutted out of its translucent body, silver blood pooling beneath it. At least one was out of commission—small mercies.
But I was running out of time. My energy reserves dwindled, and the pain made my thoughts sluggish. I gritted my teeth, forcing my mind to focus.
My hands shot up to the wolf on my shoulder, its jaws locking tighter with every passing second. I could feel my energy draining into it, the resistance palpable. With a desperate shove, I pushed its head back and plunged my arm down its throat, morphing it into a spike mid-motion.
The spectral wolf gave a final, fading howl before its form unraveled, disintegrating into glowing flecks.
No time to recover.
The wolf at my ankle suddenly let go and lunged for my throat. I barely managed to wedge my forearm between its jaws before it clamped down.
Snap!
My bones shattered under the pressure, golden blood spurting from the mangled flesh. Pain like I’d never experienced coursed through my arm, but desperation dulled its edge.
I morphed my free hand into a crude spike and began pummeling the wolf’s head. Again. And again. Each strike sent sharp jolts up my broken arm, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
The wolf dissolved with a shuddering cry, leaving me gasping for air. My arm dangled uselessly at my side, the bones twisted and splintered. Golden blood dripped onto the cavern floor in thick, sluggish rivulets.
It was a grisly sight—a deserved one, I thought bitterly.
For a moment, the cave grew still. The alpha remained seated, its eyes closed in quiet concentration. The last spectral wolf, the one with broken legs, began crawling—not toward me, but toward the pups.
It dragged its battered body across the ground, positioning itself protectively between me and the litter.
“Damn it,” I muttered, chest tightening with guilt.
Even now, with its form shattered and its strength failing, it chose to protect its own.
I didn’t deserve to be standing here.
The Alpha opened its eyes after I dispatched the final spectral wolf. It staggered slightly as it rose, its massive frame trembling. The summoning had taken a toll—no doubt about that—but the sharp, calculating glint in its yellow eyes showed it wasn’t done yet.
It studied me with a newfound intensity, as if re-evaluating the threat I posed. This wasn’t the same feral creature from moments ago. No, it had learned. Its movements grew more deliberate, cautious. Slowly, it began to circle, trying to push me away from the huddled pups behind me.
When survival is at stake, instincts take over. And mine betrayed me. I stepped back—toward them.
The Alpha paused, its glowing eyes narrowing in realization. It knew. If it wanted to protect its offspring, it would have to come through me.
Then it moved.
It didn’t growl. It didn’t snarl. It pounced.
The speed was staggering—barely telegraphed, a blur of rotted muscle and fury. Its massive paw came crashing down with the force of an avalanche. I barely threw myself back in time, the wind from its passing blow slapping me across the face.
I hit the ground hard, the air rushing from my lungs.
And then I felt it.
Juvenile Rotwolf (Level 1) killed...
Juvenile Rotwolf (Level 1) killed...
Juvenile Rotwolf (Level 1) k...
A haunting silence followed.
Their mangled bodies lay beneath me, silent and still. They hadn’t even made a sound as they were crushed under my weight.
I froze.
I had destroyed them. A whole family. The last hope for this species, snuffed out in one careless, desperate moment. Their unfair and miserable saga ended with a final, cruel twist of fate.
The Alpha stilled, its massive frame shuddering. For a heartbeat, it didn’t move.
Then it screamed.
The sound wasn’t a howl or a roar. It was despair incarnate—a soul-rending, guttural wail that echoed through the cavern, shaking loose debris from the ceiling. The very air seemed to quiver with the force of its grief.
Its fur rippled violently, patches falling away to reveal rotted sinew and blackened bone beneath. The last vestiges of its sanity vanished, replaced by primal, unrelenting rage.
I scrambled.
Sliding between its legs, I bolted for the cave’s exit. I had just obliterated the last thing tethering it to reason, and now there was no room for hesitation. This wasn’t a battleground anymore—it was a death trap.
The Alpha gave chase, its once-graceful movements devolving into frantic stomps that cracked the stone beneath its paws. Its howls of grief had turned to guttural snarls, each one echoing closer as I pushed myself to move faster.
I reached the cave’s mouth and planted the largest spike I could summon in its path. The Alpha didn’t even flinch. Its paw came crashing down on the spike with such force that its bones shattered, jagged fragments jutting out at grotesque angles.
But it kept coming.
My own body was slowly knitting itself back together, the golden glow of my regenerating bones a gruesome sight even to me. Pain lanced through my limbs, but at least I could grip my spear—clumsily, but it was better than nothing.
The Alpha swiped at me again, its massive claws raking the air. I ducked and rolled, barely avoiding the strike. The force of the missed blow cracked the ground where I’d been standing.
We fell into a savage rhythm. I danced around it, stabbing where I could, while it lashed out with relentless fury. But neither of us was gaining the upper hand. My strikes barely scratched its rotted flesh, and its grief-clouded rage made its attacks easier to predict.
Still, its instincts were a force of nature—those of a predator honed to perfection through countless hunts.
Inevitable. Unstoppable.
And then, my mistake.
As I tried to slip beneath a swipe, my foot caught on a loose rock. I stumbled—just for an instant—but it was enough.
The Alpha shifted its weight mid-swing, driving its paw straight through my thigh.
I screamed as pain exploded through me, the force pinning me to the ground. The claws tore through muscle and bone, leaving my leg a mangled wreck.
But I wasn’t done yet.
Through the haze of agony, I thrust my spear upward, driving it into the Alpha’s shoulder. The beast recoiled with a guttural cry, tearing its paw free and staggering back. My spear stayed lodged in its shoulder, and before it could pull away, I latched onto the connection.
A torrent of emotions slammed into me—a frothing, chaotic river of hunger, despair, and fury battering against a crumbling wall of responsibility. The imagery was vivid and unrelenting: an ocean of grief smashing into a barricade riddled with cracks, threatening to collapse.
Even in its broken, corrupted state, the Alpha’s will was ironclad. Its mind was a fortress—shattered in places, but still formidable. A natural-born leader.
I tried to force a jolt through the connection, but the Alpha resisted with sheer, unyielding willpower. My golden ocean flickered on the edges of my vision, but I couldn’t focus. The battle raged in both mind and body, neither of us able to gain the upper hand.
The strain was unbearable. My vision blurred, my consciousness teetering on the edge of oblivion. With a final, desperate surge of will, I broke the connection.
We stood there, panting and bleeding, our bodies broken and battered. Golden blood dripped from my wounds in sluggish rivulets. The Alpha’s black ichor pooled around its feet, viscous and putrid.
We both knew this was the end. The final round.
The tension was palpable, the air thick with the weight of impending death.
And then the world shattered.
A noise like breaking glass echoed from above, freezing us both in place. We looked up.
From a widening crack in the sky, something emerged.
It defied logic, a writhing mass of tentacles and eyes that seemed to shift and shimmer unnaturally. A creature pulled straight from a Lovecraftian nightmare.
Nyctalopod (Level ???)…