Alan glanced around, eyeing the empty graveyard in search of the groundskeeper. He must be sleeping, Alan thought, his gaze landed on the wooden shack. Deciding to let the man be, he slowly trudged over the gravel path, arriving at a rusty black gate. The lock squealed as he brought it open, kicking the gate to the side. Alan’s current objective was to find a place to stay. He cared not for luxury, deeming the Golden Goose Inn sufficient,

“I’ll have to meet Gherardo there anyway,” Alan mumbled, arriving at the town's main street. It was packed. Merchants, adventures, and regular people strode around, some stopping at a nearby stall, others sliding into one of the many buildings that lined the stone road. Alan found a nice-looking man and asked for directions. To Alan’s surprise, the inn was within his sight. He thanked the man, careening through the crowds of people, swiftly arriving at a building not too dissimilar from the rest. Its differentiating feature was a wooden sign, hanging from hinges on a metal pole. It was just above the door, and depicted, as the inn's name implied, a golden goose. It held a wooden beer mug dripping with alcohol, and the inside of its beak could be seen past a wide smile.

Alan swung the door open, its rusty hinges creaking as he walked in. His eyes adjusted quickly,

“Welcome!” The darkness of the room faded, and more detail could be seen as he searched for the source of this gruff voice. A muscular man in a white shirt covered mostly by a brown apron stood behind a long bar. It stretched almost the entirety of the back wall, surprising, considering how large the inside seemed. The man set down a glass he finished cleaning, waiting for Alan as he walked over.

Alan’s eyes darted around as he moved. A bright crackling fireplace was wedged within the center of the bars adjacent wall. Opposite of this was a polished staircase, presumably leading the rooms upstairs. The floor was otherwise littered with wooden tables, chairs pushed out and dispersed unevenly. No one else was in the room, most likely due to the early time of day. Alan reached the bar, locking eyes with the man most likely in his fifties. Wrinkles were showing on his withered face. Alan could see white hairs poking through the man's short brown hair, and trimmed beard,

“I just need a room for a few days,” Alan reached to his hip, pulled out the pouch, and dropped it on the wooden counter, a thud echoing. He stretched open the top, pulling out nine silver coins, watching them spin as they fell out of his hand and onto the wood, “How many days will this get me?” The man was silent for an instant, lost in thought as he calculated,

“Around eleven days, but I’ll give you thirteen.” The man’s eyes scrutinized Alan, “looks like you need it.” He grabbed the coins, sliding them onto a shelf beneath the counter, the hollow friction noise barely beating out the crackling of the fireplace,

“Thank you very much, sir,” Alan bowed, showing his respect for this act of generosity,

“You can call me Dariel,” The man chuckled, “When you call me sir like that it makes me feel old.” He walked and crouched down, reaching deep into a cabinet. He stood up, tossing a filthy brass key. Alan caught it with ease.

“The first room on the left.” Dariel motioned over to the stars. Alan nodded with a smile, grabbing the flimsy pouch and clicking it back onto his belt. The stairs creaked as he walked, candles lining the walls, illuminating the area with surprising efficacy. At the top of the stairs, was a long corridor that curved to the right after a few doors. Alan’s room was just past the stairs, and he arrived at it almost immediately after passing the last step. He slid the key into the rusted handle with as much gentleness as he could muster, fearing the worn out mechanisms would snap. After a click, he turned the knob and slid open the door. A wave of pine flew into his nostrils, a fresh and pleasant scent that made Alan’s eyes widen in surprise.

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“This is the cheapest, huh?” He glanced around, a nicely made bed propped up by a wooden frame sat on the far right, a large window shining golden rays directly next to it. To the left of the window a finely crafted dresser, one large compartment up top, and multiple smaller cabinets below. To Alan’s right was a simple table and chair,

“Compared to my day, an inn like this would've been considered a luxury,” He murmured, memories rushing back. The filthy rooms covered in mold and dried blood, with the acrid stench of alcohol. The sheets were never washed, and Alan had his fair share of diseases after sleeping under the covers. He shook his head, pushing away the embarrassing thoughts.

He turned around, closing the door and locking it.

“Fenrir, I’m gonna meditate for the rest of the day. In the meantime, go out into the forest around the village and kill as many monsters as you can.” Alan’s eyes met his shadow. He heard a distant woof as a circular part of his shadow split off like a cell, sliding under the door,

“He should be able to evolve soon,” Alan said, dropping his money pouch onto the wooden table, and then entering a meditative position in the center of the room. The cold wooden floor pushed uncomfortably on Alan as he sat, but he paid this feeling no heed. He closed his eyes, and began a rhythmic breathing, focusing on the spherical warmness nestled gently in his solar plexus. His chest grew and lowered, mana circulating his body like blood as he drew air in, and let it go. This was a simple, yet effective method. Simply circulating large amounts of mana, clearing out and strengthening mana passageways, and allowing the body to become more accustomed to the energy. This type of training was complex, and a normal person in the foundation stage would be too inexperienced for it. Alan continued this for an age, the hours passing by, mana keeping his body energized in the lack of water and food.

A blue light permeated through Alan’s eyelids, and a bothering feeling invaded his mind, snapping him out of his meditation.

{Fenrir has met the requirements for evolution}

Souls: [365/150]

Mana Core Stage: [Bronze] {Grade 1}

“That was fast,” Alan said, standing up, “I guess he was on the cusp of Bronze Grade 1 when I summoned him.” He turned his head, peering past the window, the area outside bathed in darkness, “I hope he’s coming back now…how do I even call him-”

Woof!

A towering figure of black fur began walking out of the darkness, strands of shadow peeling away from the wall adjacent to the dresser, sticking to Fenrir as if not wanting him to leave the voids embrace. Quickly, the shadows relenting, released their grip, and faded away into the black. Alan reached out his arms, already completely healed, and in fact stronger than before. Open palms met Fenrir’s head, massaging his pointed ears,

“You’re really strong.” Alan chuckled, feeling an unusual connection to this animal, one he only felt with some of his closest friends. Memories of Eimmar pried their way to the forefront of his mind, recalling his closest friend's execution. He pulled his hands from Fenrir, his smile withdrawing into an emotionless, straight face. Diverting his attention, he opened the system with a simple thought. The screen unraveled.

[Would you like to evolve {Infant Shadow Wolf} Fenrir?]

“Yes.”

[Please choose an evolution path]

{Adolescant Shadow Wolf}

Continue Fenrir on the path of a Shadow Wolf. Choosing this path will allow Fenrir to keep all of his current techniques, and gain one additional technique. Some of his techniques may also be upgraded. The techniques given will take on the shadow element, specializing in assassination, movement, crowd control, and versatility.

{Adolescant Flame Wolf}

The Flame Wolf, similarly to the Shadow Wolf, is categorized as an Elemental Wolf. Choosing this path will replace all of Fenir’s current techniques, including his special technique. The techniques given will take on the fire element, specializing in destructive power, and versatility.

{Adolescant Lightning Wolf}

The Lightning Wolf, similarly to the Shadow Wolf, is categorized as an Elemental Wolf. Choosing this path will replace all of Fenir’s current techniques, including his special technique. The techniques given will take on the lightning element, specializing in speed and destructive power.