The crackle of my campfire served as a beacon of navigation for the redfang coyotes, but even if I made the effort to put it out, their keen sense of smell would’ve followed me to the ends of the earth. The only way out of this predicament was to escape their territory, or kill my way to safety.

After some meditation, my mana was 160/200. Even in my focused state, I could hear them as their paws touched on the dew-laden grass, I could smell their stench, and I could feel their piercing eyes savoring me as precious meat. Redfang coyotes were registered as E-rank monsters singly, but in groups of five in which they were known to hunt, that rank went up to D rank. This ranking considered that a group of at least three adventurers faced the coyotes.

From what I’d heard from Adam, their forte wasn’t necessarily strength, but they were agile, and their bites were stupendously strong for their size. They could tear apart monster flesh from B-rank monsters if they were desperate enough. I couldn’t afford to let one of them lay even a single fang into me. Since their mouth was their main weapon, I kept particular attention to them as the group of five prowled upon me.

I stood ready for them, dagger in hand and shield in the next. The first one came charging in, but stopped. One behind me snapped at my heels, but I managed to avoid it by raising my leg. It was too overconfident, and my glimmering leg struck down and splattered its brain a few meters around us when my feet stamped on it. Facing just five, I had more than enough mana if I focused on using my skills only for attacking, and ensuring that attack was fatal.

Another one, still quite small, jumped for my arms like a trained police dog. I blocked and slid the dagger up its belly, then immediately sidestepped. Who knew how close the others would get if I just stood still while in the middle of a fight? Unfortunately, one of them still managed to get a slathering grip on me, its violent wriggle caused my flesh and muscle to tear easily so its saliva and my blood mixed the more it fought. The pain was shocking and distracted me, but I bit down on that suffering and embraced it; it was merely a cog in the machine that drove me to the end of my fate. I gripped with titanic strength and swerved the jagged dark blade into the head of the canine and ripped its skull apart.

One leaped towards me and my shield was imbued with a skill to smash into the mutt’s pointed neb, wreaking havoc on its maw and displacing the fangs inside. It whined like just another dog and tried to hop away, but I cast Water Jet and damaged one of its hind legs. The last redfang coyote eyed me and fought bravely to the end until my dagger gutted it.

I sucked all their mana out with the dagger; it seemed satiated, happy, contented. I cast Lesser Heal on myself to get rid of the wound. It was a deep bite, but the spell still closed the wound as well as disinfecting it.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

My mind slowed as the adrenaline faded out my blood, but I should’ve never relaxed. The blood was easy to track. A bluequill owl swooped past me and picked me up a little, but underestimated my weight so it quickly released me, causing me to fall and roll a few times. I looked around in a panic, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. What an elusive monster, not to mention it was impossible to hear coming, and with its dark feathers, equally hard to spot.

Shit, I don’t have much mana remaining. I meandered to the fire and placed a bright Dawnlight nearby. My heart shook at the suspense, there was little a Dawnlight could do to warn me of the next attack, but it at least afforded some visibility. The dark owl dove again, this time with intentions to destroy my windpipe. Its steel talons gripped my shield, but it’d quickly regret that decision after I swung at its legs and cut one clean off. It screeched with intent to deafen, and was about to fly off, but I held fast to one of the wings and made it fly askew. Once it landed again, I finished it off with one decisive strike to the body.

I awoke pretty early; couldn’t get good sleep as my own watchman. Sweet chimes of birds whistled into my ear and set my heart at ease. The woods were a bit moist from a light drizzle, and a pleasant scent wafted from the old oaks. As I had a habit of doing every morning, I checked my status in the grimoire. My HP was 100/100, I could survive a few hits with that. My MP on the other hand, was now 300/300. All the meditation and practice in the world couldn’t get me that far that fast. I was beginning to understand why the dagger was so important to Fyren. It permanently increased one’s mana capacity every time it took mana from a target.

It was becoming clearer and clearer, my path that is. With large mana capacities, I had access to practice more spells and gain experience in casting. My MP regeneration also scaled accordingly, the more I stole mana. But I had no wish to abandon my physical exercise. Should there be a day spells fail me, then I hoped that skills would keep me alive.

I continued on, living on the land and surviving as I went along. Sometimes I wouldn’t find shelter, and would have to weather the rains and trek forth in the mud, even get a cold or two here and there, but that didn’t stop me. I hunted everything I knew I could hunt, and learned more about monsters, sometimes even having to retreat because they outnumbered me, or a particular apex predator just couldn’t be reasoned with.

My journey led me to a hamlet near a river where a few dozen people dwelled. The noon sun hid behind a bit of clouds and the breezeless settlement had a bit of a wave of heat. I continued into the place with hopes of picking up some supplies.

I crossed a stone arch used as a bridge to the little river. The sound of the running water felt so relaxing. A young lad saw me, but as I walked by, he steered clear of me. The same would happen with an old man, then a little girl. What? Do I have the plague? Eventually, I’d come to understand what was going on. They figured it out…

Pinetop Village knew who killed those miserable nobles, and put a damn bounty on my head.