The corpse could hardly be called a man. I don't know the guy's standards for a cadaver, but it wasn't what we saw. The torso had dime-sized holes of missing flesh while a large and very black hoof mark as large as my hand painted the skin on his upper ribs. The hand, lacking fingers, had its meat entirely stripped away, but whatever did it, did so in a messy manner. Strands of grey flesh poked out from beneath the greying skin. Marble lines of black veins crisscrossed throughout his body, predominantly on his arms and legs.

Thankfully, Regis had covered the man's privates with a smaller sheet, but the sight of it all made my stomach queasy.

I've never seen a body like this before, I don't think I ever want to again.

It didn't strike me with fear or make me vomit, which disturbed me that I'd be as okay as I was. But the corpse gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach the longer I examined it. Claw marks of various sizes and lengths riddled his body, and a few spots on his lower legs had entire bite-sized chunks missing from them.

Regis reached, grabbed metal tongs from his apron pocket, and used them to pry open one of the jagged claw marks on his upper left arm. The metal exposed the grey, squishy meat underneath. "As you can see, this wound here is a creature of considerable size: four marks, two reached near bone. The edges are jagged, not clean, and judging by the angle, I'd say a creature swiped at his arm. During cleaning, I found strands of grey fur and bits of dirt. If I had to guess the culprit, it'd be a forest wolf. They're common enough in these parts but tend to stay far away."

"It's obviously not just a wolf, right? That's a hoof print," I asked.

Devon raised his eyebrow, and I paused, unsure if I had stepped out of line. He nodded a second later, and I took that as a sign that I didn't mess up.

Regis shook his head. "No, and I could pass off the hoofprint as something accidentally running him over while running away, but there are two more hoofprints on his back. Judging by the wounds, they all coincided. Whatever happened to him in the woods, the beasts had worked together to beat him to near death."

"And those wounds?" I asked as I pointed to the small punctures. "They don't look like teeth marks and claw wounds."

"Because they're not. I'm not an expert in wildlife around here, but they are likely puncture marks from a bird. What kind? I am unsure, but they match the circumference and depth of a bird's beak. Perhaps a raven or a crow."

That's a lot of creatures that shouldn't be working together. Just what is going on?

I looked to Devon, but his face revealed nothing.

Why are you being unhelpful now? Is it because I spoke up?

"Detect any mana?"

He shook his head.

I tried to think of other things to ask, but my mind came up blank.

Thankfully, Devon stepped in. "Thank you. We have enough information."

"Ah, alright then." he placed the sheet covering back over the corpse. "You know the way out. Good luck on your hunts, sir Grimms."

Regis stayed behind, watching us leave. I snuck a glance at the sheet and bit my lip.

The image of a disfigured and mauled corpse would be haunting my dreams for a few nights.

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

"What do we do now? Do you know what's attacking people?" I asked as I stared into the eerie forest.

We were outside the village. The guards watched us leave, and the man who escorted us returned to his post. The look of fear in their eyes had lessened, but a healthy amount remained that made me feel uncomfortable.

I rubbed my wrist and stared at my bandaged hand. The injury had long healed, and I could feel the skin on my palm bend like normal. Deciding the salve-coated cloth held no purpose, I took it off and slung off my backpack. Before I could toss it inside, Devon's hand wrapped around my wrist.

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I looked up and met his eyes, his face set in a scowl. "Burn it. Try never to leave things with your blood behind. Hexers will take this blood and curse you till you wish you were dead. Be. Careful."

He released my hand, and I rubbed at my wrist. His grip hadn't hurt, but I could feel blood returning to my hand. I avoided looking him in the eye and held the bandage in my palm instead.

You don't need a fireball, just enough of a flame to burn the bandage.

I tried to create the image, but Devon's staring unsettled me enough. I closed my eyes to block him out. In my mind, I built the spark like Astra taught me. Next came the runes, adding to the flame, growing it. I imagined the heat as I watched the fire crackle, its licks repelling the void.

I connected the mana in my chest and tried to limit its flow down my arm. It was under my control, but I knew it would flare up once I finished the incantation.

Not a fireball, I need a flame…

Instead of the chant Astra taught me, I remembered the flame she summoned, completely in her control, as clear as day. “Ek kalla heiðarloga”

The warm energy in my chest responded like a spooked horse racing down my arm. I growled, a sound foreign to my ears.

No!

I felt the heat form, wanting release.

Listen to me!

The flames built, and the flow pulsed and slowed. For a second, I thought I did it, and my eyes shot open, but then the pool in my chest crashed against my will like a tsunami and washed away my control. The flames around my palm, the bright orange ball that began to extend past my fingers, flared into a small torrent that caused me to scream in pain.

The bandage became ash as the flames flared up, but I smelt burnt copper in the air as my skin cracked.

Devon squeezed my arm. The flow stuttered and reversed back into my chest. He held me up by the limb, and I tried not to squirm.

"You tried to shorten the incantation."

I grimaced as he kept squeezing my arm. Strangely, I felt a cool sensation invade my veins. The feeling numbed the pain, and I stopped biting my lip.

"I needed to burn the bandages, not launch a ball of flames. Astra showed me the incantation when she was explaining what they were. I thought it'd be a better match for my needs."

He sent another burst of what I assumed was his mana over my arm and released it. "It would have been. But incantations are difficult, and failing one can lead to backlash as your mana goes wild."

"Sorry. I thought I could do it."

He shook his head. "Foolish, but not wrong."

"Huh?"

"You managed the incantation; you just lost control afterwards. I'm assuming your passive skill is why your mana is hot."

"Yeah, I had to lie to Astra, but your mana and hers are cold. Are you saying I actually managed to do the incantation?!"

"Yes, but with horrible efficiency. You took the words but not the runes or the proper image. Brute forcing an incantation is possible but extremely stupid. Do it again; you may lose more than the skin off your fingers."

"Oh. Sorry." I stared at my smoking palm. The smell of cooked pork wafted strongly in the breeze, making me wrinkle my nose. "Do you know if… Elias struggled with his fire incantations? There's a feeling in my chest, and it responds whenever I try to complete the incantation."

"No. Whenever we hunted together, he only ever used fire spells. At least now I know why he favoured them so."

Devon's voice verged on a growl, genuine anger crossing his face.

"Grab the bandage roll in your pack. Don't use the spell again unless you have no choice." He tossed me something from his belt loop, and I caught it, holding it up to the light. The vial looked the same as the one Astra used for my burns.

"Thank you."

"Wrap your wound. Can you use your summon?"

"Yes, but I only summoned it once."

"Good. Summon it."

I scrambled to bandage my hand, resorting to my teeth to help tie the knot. With my wound resolved and freshly dressed, I closed my eyes again and held out my good arm.

This time, I channeled my skill, and the system took over. The mana blossomed out of my chest and down my arm. A spell circle rotated in my head, and I pictured fangs and claws rising from its center.

[Summon: Shadow Wolf]

I felt a chunk of mana leave my body and force itself into the skill. I opened my eyes to the shadow beast as it sniffed my fingers. It sniffed my hand and backed away before padding over to my other side.

After scratching its head, I commanded it to sink into my shadow, and it did. The sensation that connected it to me felt weird, like an invisible weight I could feel if I focused on it.

Remembering how Astra reacted, I watched Devon's face for signs of tension or alarm, but he simply nodded and motioned to the forest.

"Next hunt, use your summon to scout for you. A shadow beast is made for stealth," Devon said.

"Gotcha. I can try that now if you like?" I replied.

"Don't. Have it protect you while we're in the woods. I'll keep you safe, but I won't coddle you. Prepare yourself to use your axe."

Right… This isn't a game. I can die if I'm not careful.

The moon overhead stopped at the tree line, the purple leaves blocking most of the light.

I actively tried not to think about how similar it felt. The trees looked completely different, but the suffocating feeling of entering the dark woods scratched my nerves.

We barely set more than ten feet past the treeline when the sound of running disturbed the numbing silence. I slid my axe out of the belt sheath around my waist and gripped the handle.

Devon stopped and waited, his face hidden behind his cloak.

From the darkness, a grey wolf with gleaming claws flashed through the shadows. I swung my axe, hoping to intercept the blow. My arm extended, sweeping from an angle and cutting a diagonal line.

Blood splattered my front, and I tumbled to the floor.