Tyler had always felt weak against any significant advantage. One of the bad traits that he knew about himself was that he didn't believe he could win or successfully come out on top when things weren't in his favor. Life, up to this point, had proven that to be true. He held the bashing hammer, his hands trembling slightly. He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening. "I'm not going to die today," he thought, the words a mantra against the rising tide of fear. "Not until I repay him."

The crimson wolf exploded into motion. With a guttural snarl, it launched itself forward. Tyler swung the hammer with all his strength, a desperate, full-bodied movement born of instinct and training. The blow missed, the hammerhead passing within inches of the wolf's head, the wind from the swing ruffling the crimson fur.

The system notification flashed: Crimson Wolf used skill: Claw.

The wolf's massive claws connected with Tyler's abdomen with skin- tearing force. A searing pain ripped through him as the claws tore into his flesh, opening a deep, ragged wound that spurted blood. He gasped, the air knocked from his lungs, his body reeling from the impact.

Grone heard Tyler's cry. With a grunt of exertion, he shoved the Drako off him, scrambling to his feet. He raised his sword, pointing it at the still-lunging reptile, then looked back at Tyler. "Kid, hang in there," he called out.

Tyler's system display immediately updated: HP: 40/64. One attack from the wolf had cost him 24 HP. The crimson wolf circled slowly, assessing Tyler's condition.

Grone, facing the Drako, launched himself forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc aimed at the creature's head. The Drako ducked, its head snapping down to avoid the blow. Grone followed through with a downward slash, attempting to split the Drako's head, but the creature rolled aside with surprising agility. The Drako paused, its black eyes gleaming, its snake-like tongue flicking out to taste the air.

Tyler's eyes widened as a system notification flashed across his vision: Crimson Wolf used skill: Red Rush. Before the words fully registered, a crimson blur erupted from the periphery of his vision. The air itself seemed to vibrate as an immense force slammed into his side, a searing pain exploding through his abdomen. He felt a sickening tearing sensation as a chunk of flesh was ripped away, leaving a gaping wound that screamed in protest. The wolf was gone as quickly as it appeared, a phantom of motion leaving only the lingering scent of blood and the agony of his injury.

A strangled roar tore from Tyler's throat as he stumbled, his hand flying to his side to press against the wound. The crimson stain blossomed across his fingers, a stark contrast to his pale skin. His system display, usually a calm, objective observer, flashed the brutal reality: HP: 13/64. Bleeding effect. User will lose HP according to the amount of blood loss. Even as he watched, the numbers continued to plummet, the relentless countdown stark against the backdrop of his throbbing pain. He saw the number drop again: HP: 10/64.

Grone, locked in his own desperate struggle with the Drako, heard Tyler's cry. The sound, raw and filled with agony, cut through the din of battle. A grim expression hardened his features. Damnit, he thought, the words a silent curse against the cruel twist of fate that had pitted them against such overwhelming odds. "Why did I have to be facing a Drako? I have to finish this quick, or Tyler's going to die." He shifted his stance, his eyes narrowed, preparing to unleash a powerful skill. The sounds of Tyler's ragged breathing and the steady drip of blood were a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation.

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Tears welled in Tyler's eyes, tracing paths down his cheeks. A choked chuckle escaped his lips, sounding more like a painful rasp than anything resembling amusement. "You're crying? Come on, dude, you've done this before, right?" he muttered to himself, the words a desperate attempt to summon the resilience of his earlier hunts, the memories of his first terrifying encounters in the forest. His other hand, slick with blood, found the hammer's haft, his grip trembling slightly from the pain and the steady stream of warm liquid flowing from his wound.

The crimson wolf, having momentarily vanished, reappeared directly in front of him, its jaws stained crimson with the flesh it had just torn away, the remnants of Tyler's abdomen clearly visible within its mouth as it swallowed the piece. Tyler groaned at the gruesome sight. The wolf growled, a low rumble in its chest, and launched itself at him once more.

Instinctively, Tyler's mana surged, connecting with the hammer, activating his bash skill. The hammer connected with the wolf's head with a resounding thwack, the impact sending a shockwave through Tyler's arm. The wolf howled in pain, its body tumbling backward, its side slamming against a tree trunk with a sickening thud.

The system notification appeared: James Grone activated skill: Pierce. Grone moved with a speed that defied the eye, a blur of motion culminating in the precise placement of his sword's tip against the Drako's neck. The impact was not a clean cut; it was an explosion. The Drako's head detonated in a gruesome spray of blood, bone fragments, and green ichor, showering Grone and the surrounding area in a horrifying rain of viscera. The creature's body convulsed once, then lay still.

Tyler, momentarily distracted by the graphic display of Grone's skill, reacted instinctively. He activated his bash skill, aiming the hammer at the downed crimson wolf. But the wolf, displaying a surprising burst of speed despite its injuries, rolled aside, avoiding the blow. Its jaw hung open, revealing a bloody mess of torn flesh and broken teeth. It fled into the undergrowth, disappearing into the bushes. The hammer struck the ground with a heavy thud, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden silent forest.

Tyler's eyes, wide with a mixture of adrenaline and pain, followed the wolf's retreat. He attempted to pursue, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision swam, blurring into a hazy mess of greens and browns. He stumbled, collapsing against the rough bark of a tree trunk. The system display, cold and clinical, appeared before his eyes: HP: 3/64. The low number was a stark reminder of his precarious state.

A wave of weakness washed over Tyler as his body hit the ground, his back sliding against the rough bark of the tree. His muscles felt leaden, his limbs unresponsive. Grone quickly reached Tyler's side, crouching down beside him. He began to tap Tyler's face repeatedly, his voice sharp with urgency. "Hey, hey! Don't sleep! You can't die here!"

Tyler's eyelids felt heavy, his vision blurring. His voice was barely a whisper. "I didn't think I'd end this way," he murmured, his words slurring slightly. "In the end, I couldn't even repay you for what you've done for me."

"Don't say that," Grone said, his voice tight with concern. "You're not dying here."

Despite Grone's words, Tyler felt his strength ebbing away, a relentless tide pulling him towards oblivion. "I'm sorry," he rasped, his apology encompassing everyone he had ever known, in both worlds. "I couldn't become anyone reliable... in the end... sorry, everyone..." His system display flashed: HP: 1/64. His eyelids fluttered closed.

"Damnit, James," Grone muttered, his voice laced with frustration and despair. "You useless hunter! If only you could heal him!"

"Kid, you're not useless. You hear me? You're not going to die. You're going to repay me. You're one of the most relatable people I've ever met," Grone said, his voice raw with emotion. "You said you wanted to be a hunter. You're going to be the best there is. Just wake up."

When Tyler didn't respond, a single tear traced a path down Grone's weathered cheek. He whispered the next words, his head bowed, his voice filled with a despair that belied his gruff exterior. "Somehow... you felt like a son to me."

At that moment, Tyler's system display erupted with notifications: Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!

Meanwhile, in a separate part of the forest, the crimson wolf, which had fled earlier, lay dead, its lifeblood staining the forest floor.

A soft light began to emanate from Tyler's body, his wounds visibly mending as his skin glowed with an ethereal luminescence. With a gasp, he inhaled deeply, his eyes snapping open. He sat up abruptly, startling Grone.