Six months had passed since I was abandoned in the Black Forest of Dracknum territory to face the Hunter's Judgement. Those months had been both a torment and a blessing in disguise—a test that shaped me in ways I could never have imagined. My body had finally made a full recovery, thanks to the Dracknum bloodline coursing through my veins.

The natural resistance to poison I had inherited, combined with my extraordinary regenerative abilities, allowed severe wounds to heal in a matter of months. Depending on the severity and the individual's capacity, some could recover in weeks—or even days. What would take a year for a normal human had become little more than a minor hurdle for me.

Three months ago, the white wolf had declared that I no longer needed to be nursed. It was one of the happiest days of my life—or at least, the life of my bruised pride. Her words were simple, but the weight they lifted off my shoulders was immeasurable.

— "Pup, your body is finally strong enough. You no longer need the milk to stay alive."

I had nearly cried in relief, though I would never admit it.

At her insistence, I remained with the pack until the trial was complete, a decision that quickly proved to be wise. The pack treated me as one of their own, a bond that came with responsibilities and countless lessons. They taught me what it truly meant to survive.

I learned how to hunt with precision, moving silently through the forest like a shadow slipping between trees. Every movement of prey was carefully observed before I struck. They taught me to read the signs of nature—the whisper of the wind, the patterns of tracks on the ground, the nearly imperceptible sounds that could signal either danger or opportunity.

The white wolf also taught me how to craft basic clothing from the hides and pelts of the animals we hunted. My old clothes were in tatters—my pants little more than scraps, and my shirt long gone. Now, I wore what remained of my pants, overlaid with a layer of leather made from the bear that had nearly killed me. It resembled the tribal skirts of Earth's prehistoric people: crude yet functional. Over my torso, I wore another layer of the bear’s pelt, draped across me like a wild mane. It didn’t cover my entire body, but it was enough to shield me from the biting cold.

For the first time, I discovered the true meaning of community on a primal level. There was a silent bond between the pack members that went beyond words. They hunted together, protected one another, shared their food, and, above all, trusted each other without question. That trust struck something deep within me, something that left an indelible mark.

The forest, which had once felt oppressive and suffocating, began to transform before my very eyes. I learned to see life in the shadows, to recognize beauty in the way sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dancing patterns on the forest floor. I discovered how silence could be both an ally and an enemy and how patience was an essential virtue for survival.

My days became a balance of training and living with the pack. Running alongside them, ambushing prey, taking long treks through unfamiliar territory, and private lessons with the white wolf and the small pup. I came to understand that strength wasn’t merely physical—it was mental as well.

“A true hunter isn’t the one who strikes first,” the white wolf had told me once, watching as I failed miserably to chase down a rabbit. “It’s the one who observes and waits for the perfect moment. The one who understands that patience is their greatest weapon.”

Her words echoed in my mind for days, slowly shaping my perspective and, in some ways, my very being.

During those days, as I walked through the forest alongside a few wolves, I realized how much I had changed. My small body, once frail and unskilled, had become strong and agile, shaped by hardship and relentless training. The pressure of the trial still lingered, always present like a shadow, but amidst it all, a growing sense of accomplishment began to bloom in my chest.

I was part of the forest now, and it was part of me. Or at least, that’s what I wanted to believe.

“Pup, focus,” the white wolf’s firm voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “In your current state, any predator catching you off guard would kill you in an instant.”

I turned to face her, feeling the weight of her words hit me like a blow. She gestured with one of her paws toward a group of pups playing not far away. They were moving fluidly, their eyes closed, as others tried to touch them. Their movements were instinctive and precise, almost as if they could anticipate every strike before it came.

“Look at them,” the white wolf continued, her golden eyes shining with a mixture of patience and firm expectation.

“Even the pups have already learned how to connect with nature.”

I sighed, frustration bubbling within me.

‘I’m not a wolf pup’, I thought, my mind scrambling for excuses to downplay my apparent failure.

As if she could hear my thoughts, the white wolf tilted her head slightly, a glimmer of amusement flashing across her expression.

"It’s not about being human or wolf, pup," she corrected, her voice echoing like a constant reminder. "It’s about being able to feel."

"I know, I know," I replied, trying—and failing—to hide my irritation. "I’m supposed to hear the flow of water, feel the sway of the wind, the rustling of leaves… sense the breath of those around me, see without looking, hear without my ears."

The words tumbled out like a recitation, something I had heard so many times before but still felt frustratingly out of reach.

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"Then why haven’t you managed it yet, pup?" the white wolf shot back, her voice calm yet laced with an unspoken challenge.

"It’s easier said than done," I muttered, my voice dripping with frustration. It was effortless for them—they were born here, shaped by this ecosystem, living and breathing the relentless cycle of nature from the very start.

For them, it was instinctive, something etched into their very being, as if they were born with their "abilities unlocked." And me? I was an outsider, trying to level up in a game they had already mastered.

The white wolf tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes scrutinizing me.

"Let’s try again," she said, her tone firm but not devoid of encouragement.

I sighed, knowing she was right. Complaining wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed this skill, and I needed it now. The memory of that fateful day when I had been caught off guard by the bear resurfaced, sending a shiver down my spine. Even while poisoned, maybe the outcome would’ve been different if I had sensed the danger sooner.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My mind, usually so restless, needed to calm down.

‘There’s no use resisting’, I thought. I focused on emptying my thoughts, pushing away the noise and distractions.

Slowly, I began to attune myself to my surroundings. The distant sound of a stream echoed faintly, like a whisper threading through the trees. Above me, the gentle sway of leaves created an almost hypnotic rhythm.

I felt the light breeze brush against my skin, its movement carrying the earthy scent of the forest—and something else, something alive, something pulsing.

My breathing slowed, my body gradually relaxing. Yet my mind stayed sharp, as if it were reaching out, searching for something just beyond the immediate grasp of my senses.

And then, I heard it.

Footsteps.

The sound came from behind me—light, but unmistakable. Instinctively, I ducked, feeling the subtle shift in the air as something shot past above me, swift as an arrow. My ears caught new movements, now on my right and left.

‘They’re fast’, I thought, the heat of adrenaline surging through my veins. Wasting no time, I murmured: — “Breeze.” —

The magic answered, channeling the wind beneath my feet. The momentum launched me into the air, away from my previous position. A loud impact sounded below me, followed by the rustling of leaves.

As I landed, a cocky grin spread across my lips. ‘Too easy.’

But before I could savor my small victory, a shadow loomed over me.

Something struck the top of my head with enough force to send me crashing to the ground. The cold, damp earth greeted me harshly, the pain radiating through my skull and snuffing out my arrogance in an instant.

The white wolf’s voice echoed in my mind, calm but tinged with reproach.

“Never underestimate your surroundings, pup.”

I swallowed hard, the sting of her words matching the ache in my head. But she wasn’t done.

“You’ve relied too much on your sight. You overcame that, but now you lean too heavily on your hearing.”

Her tone softened slightly, though it still carried the weight of authority.

“Feel the changes—not just in the sounds around you. Notice the subtle scents, the slightest shifts in the wind.”

There was a pause, almost as if she were waiting for me to absorb the lesson before delivering her final words:

“The wind tells many stories, pup, but it’s up to us to decide whether we listen.”

Her words echoed in my mind, cryptic and thought-provoking. A wave of confusion washed over me.

‘That sounds like something straight out of a martial arts manga’, I thought, my mind wandering for a moment.

But before I could delve deeper into her meaning, something drew my attention.

The sound of soft, deliberate footsteps approached, accompanied by the distinct rustling of leaves.

Dr. Wolf emerged from the vegetation, his steps steady but the sight was almost comical: he carried a long vine in his mouth, wide and flat, resembling a makeshift blindfold.

“From now on, pup, you will remain blindfolded until you learn to connect with nature,” declared the white wolf, her voice calm yet firm, leaving no room for argument.

“What?!” My voice rang out across the clearing, filled with disbelief. “But… we’re wandering through the Black Forest!”

My exclamation echoed in the air, blending with the rustling leaves above.

For the past three months, ever since I’d fully recovered, I’d been trekking through the forest alongside the pack. They were migrating south, and I had been tirelessly searching for the family insignia to complete my trial. The journey was relentless, exhausting, and even with my eyes open, the forest seemed determined to test me at every turn.

I recalled all the times I’d tripped over exposed roots or stumbled onto rocks hidden beneath the moss, crashing awkwardly onto the cold, damp ground. Low branches had left scratches across my skin, and once, out of sheer distraction, I had nearly walked off a cliff—only to be saved by one of the wolves, who clamped its teeth onto the remnants of my shirt and yanked me back to safety.

And now, she wanted me to do all of that… blindfolded.

“This is madness!” I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in frustration, as if the gesture might somehow convince the white wolf of the absurdity of her idea.

She, however, remained entirely unfazed. Perched majestically atop a moss-covered stone, her golden eyes locked onto mine with an infuriating calm. One of the pups darted around her, tugging playfully at her tail, but she didn’t even glance away from me.

“The forest isn’t your enemy, pup,” she said, tilting her head slightly, as if explaining something to a stubborn child.

“It’s your perception of it that needs to change. With your eyes open, you rely only on what you see, ignoring what you hear, feel, or smell. That makes you vulnerable.”

Dr. Wolf, standing nearby, stepped forward with the vine still in his mouth. His gaze carried a faintly amused glint as the vine swayed gently in the breeze.

‘I give up’, I thought, letting out a heavy sigh of resignation. ‘There’s no convincing her. At least they’ll protect me.’

I took the vine from his jaws and, with hesitant fingers, began tying it around my eyes. The rough texture of the plant scraped against my skin, and the sudden loss of vision was disorienting, as though the entire world had shrunk around me. Darkness closed in completely.

I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of fear and resignation mingling in my mouth. Deep down, I knew she was right. The forest didn’t forgive weakness.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady my racing heart.

‘If I’m going to do this, I’d better start now,’ I thought, adjusting my posture and focusing on ignoring the oppressive sensation of forced darkness.