The first thought that flashed in Andrew’s mind when the Silvercrest Wolves had successfully completed their encirclement was that the scrawny, unreliable archer had lost his nerve and fled. It was only when he stood at the precipice of an endless pit of despair could he bring himself to ask Jack for a strategy, not expecting much. Even without any enhancements, wolves were terrifying creatures if they were out for blood— the tough persona he maintained, while not exactly a facade, didn’t mean he fancied his chances against a natural born predator.

This wasn’t fair.

No, this was insane. His ancestors might have been hunters a century ago, but that didn’t mean he knew how to wield a sword or hold a bow. Modern conveniences had made them soft and civilian weaponry had advanced too much for melee weapons to be used for self-defense.

Except Jack did have a contingency.

Calling it a contingency was, perhaps, an overstatement, but nevertheless, Andrew was immensely grateful for the ray of hope cascading through the veil of dark clouds.

The plan was simple. It was also unfair.

Jack would signal James, who, much to his relief, had been waiting for his command. Andrew could see why— the Silvercrest Wolves’ gazes seemed to radiate a bone-chilling focus, even when their relaxed movements conveyed a lack of tension. They weren’t considered a threat, but even then, Andrew was certain; if James missed, the Silvercrest Wolves would not allow him a second chance.

So much hinged on one shot.

Jack would break out of the formation, signal James and try to wound the male Silvercrest Wolf. He, though, had to work with Sarah, to rush towards the hopefully injured female Silvercrest Wolf and finish it off. An individual Silvercrest Wolf was strong, but it was pack-hunting tactics that truly struck terror in their hearts— eliminating one wolf at the outset was paramount if they were to escape this encounter without casualties.

Andrew had consented to the plan. There was no reason not to. Jack took the bulk of the risk, while they were tasked with finishing off an injured opponent— no one was counting on James to kill the Wolf outright.

Jack broke formation as planned.

Seconds later, Andrew and Sarah pivoted on the balls of their feet before charging in unison towards the Silvercrest Wolf.

Yet….

The insides of his mouth felt as if he’d bit down on volcanic ash.

Each step that took him closer to the Silvercrest Wolf felt like it was taking him away from survival instead of towards it.

Earlier, the despair he felt originated from the fear of death. This though… this was… true despair.

Why?

Andrew and Sarah came to a halt before the female Silvercrest Wolf.

Sarah gasped.

Andrew’s gaze was alight with shock.

Even that coward…..

James’ arrow had arced through the air, defying all odds to punch through the wolf’s throat, embedding itself in its trachea. Wheezing and gasping sounds escaped its mouth as it began to choke on its own blood.

“Leave it,” Sarah pronounced, clearly deeming the wolf to be a threat no longer. They had all agreed beforehand to let James have a kill by disabling their foe as long as it was feasible and in this case, he had earned it. She did not think that Andrew would break the covenant— not if it meant defying Jack. In the altercation before, the burly man had seemed intimidated enough.

Andrew stood before the dying Silvercrest Wolf, the seconds passing by as he watched the last embers of life drifting away from it.

“Andrew, move!” Sarah hissed under her breath but Andrew remained rooted to the spot, his attention seemingly ensnared by the dying Silvercrest Wolf.

Sarah shifted her gaze to meet Andrew’s visage, only to stumble upon his listless, unfocused eyes.

Has he lost it?

“Damn it,” Sarah groaned, giving Andrew a final, pointed look before she pivoted and rushed forward in Jack’s direction.

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Andrew couldn't tell if only a few seconds or several minutes had passed before his gaze flickered back to life.

“So that was it,” he whispered, his eyes widening in realization.

The source of his uneasiness… he had to confirm it. Angling his gaze behind him, he swiveled his neck just in time to witness Jack thrust his sword into the Silvercrest Wolf’s chest while it was mid-air.

Crazy bastard.

But… that was what it took, what it would take to survive this hellhole. What he had believed to be foolish chivalry on Jack’s part was him unknowingly signing his own death warrant. Andrew was a perceptive man— perhaps too perceptive for his own good. The path he was heading down… was not one where he would survive. He had enough trouble felling a Twilight Boar but before he could adapt himself to that level of difficulty, the System had thrown an evolved variant of a wolf at him.

Jack displayed a frightening level of combat adaptability. James had incredible aim under duress; a fact that he could no longer deny. Sarah had displayed surprising resilience after the first encounter. He…. was the only one trying not to change. Up until this point, he was fine with others shouldering the risk for him. That would have been acceptable, if the path to cowardice wasn’t also the path that led to death.

What is a cultivator?

That was the term the System had used to address them. People who used Qi were called cultivators. Andrew didn’t know if this was the meaning the trial had intended for him to find. Nevertheless, it was the one he chose.

A cultivator was one who walked alone.

Andrew pointed his sword to the sky, as if he were asking the orchestrator of this trial to witness his resolve, before he brought it down in a graceful arc.

“Andrew!” Jack’s furious voice rang out, but it was too late.

He knew that the others would not accept his presence after he stole a second kill— but that was fine. He had already resolved himself to break out from the group and survive on his own—- and reaching level three was the bare minimum he needed for that objective.

He would hone his abilities and dominate the trial. All the experience, all the loot belonged to him and only him. Whatever it took, he would survive.

----------------------------------------

No good deed goes unpunished.

James didn’t feel angry as he saw Andrew’s blade arc towards the dying Silvercrest Wolf, which, by all means and justifications, was his rightful kill.

It was a lesson life had tried to teach him repeatedly and one that he’d intentionally remained oblivious towards.

That sinking feeling roiling in the pit of your stomach when people toss aside their facade and reveal who they really were… he was all too familiar with it. He was nice. Kind. Not perfect by any means and not quite selfless— but he wanted to help others if he could. There were scattered instances in his life that conveyed this message. A friend ghosting him after she borrowed money from him. A co-worker blaming missing inventory on him and getting his pay for the month docked. His cousin returning his car scratched up after he agreed to lend him for the weekend.

There were dozens of mundane incidents like this throughout his life all trying to open his eyes to the truth.

People were scum.

They smelled kindness and mistook it for gullibility. They took advantage of that kindness. James didn’t stand up for himself the first time Andrew stole his kill. The shark smelled blood. So Andrew exploited his weakness, by repeating his actions a second time. Because that was what humans did— exploit kindness.

Even now, James was sure that Andrew did not think him capable of retaliation.

The sound of glass crinkling and shattering into thousands of pieces echoed in his mind as James felt his self, or perhaps, his perception of the self shatter. Apathy would have consumed him, if it were not for a forest green sun casting its light upon him. His emotions resonated with the green sun’s, so James reached out for the violent energy.

His eyes flickered open, shining with a menacing green light.

The milky-white halo superimposed upon the back of his hand began to truly imprint itself upon it, it’s circular shape shifting to form a reversed trident without the shaft and it’s hue shifting to a dark forest green.

[Path of Corrosion

Minor Dao Mark (Rank 1): Corrosion has been awakened]

Jack felt a chill crawl up his spine as he felt the change in the atmosphere. A nauseating feeling welled up in his chest but he fought down the urge to vomit, his senses sending him a warning signal as he tried to trace the origin.

What is this revolting sensation?

Jack’s gaze sharpened as he realized that the sensation he felt was similar to the Silvercrest Wolf’s runic symbol, except this felt more…. complete.

His eyes flickered to the tree he knew James had been shooting from, spotting a dark green glow that he was certain was the origin of the sickening sensation.

“Die,” James whispered, the tip of his arrow glowing with the very same dark-green light instead of Qi Arrow’s azure glow.

Andrew, who had only yet taken a few steps to his freedom screamed, as an arrow punched into his right arm.

Jack thoughts flashed rapidly as he tried to make sense of what was happening, somewhat relieved to see that what he placed as James’ retaliation hadn’t been a fatal shot.

The next second, his relief was replaced with horror.

Andrew, whose expression had been full of determination and vigor seconds earlier, fell to the ground, writhing in pain. His pale skin was littered with patches of deep purple splotches, tears dripping down his eyes as he wailed for help.

“Sarah!” Jack bellowed, fury dripping in his voice. “Run!”