Cousins of the Green Wind Wolves, the first Oren Beast that Alnea had ever fought, and suffered quite badly against, except for a few minor difference, Dark Wind Wolves were almost similar in appearance. Even in their strength, and ability, the two could be considered equivalent to each other, but only if they were in their own territories. If they met each other in the other’s preferred territory, then the end result would lie in favour of the Beast with the homefield advantage. That was just how evolution worked.
It was a known fact that Hurricane Wolves were wild, and savage in nature, filled with bloodlust, and an inherent desire to slaughter. Things had calmed down after the peace treaty had been signed between the Oren Beasts, and Wanderers, but before that, when an open war had been going on between the two forces of the world, the Hurricane Wolves would often barge into human settlements, and go on a slaughtering spree.
That fact was not surprising in itself, as the two races were in a war in the first place, but the bloodlust of the Hurricane Wolves was too great. They did not even spare their own comrades, and often slaughtered whole packs of Oren Beasts just for the thrill of it. In the end, the wolves finally began to be persecuted by both, humans, and Oren Beasts.
Things were fine in the areas where they were the overlords, but in the areas where other, stronger species of Oren Beasts lived, they were finally driven off from their favoured habitats of deserts, and plains, and forced to move into smaller, contained areas like forests, and canyons, where their powers were severely limited. And just like that, from being overlords of their areas, the Hurricane Wolves became one of the weaker Oren Beasts in the areas where they settled.
However, living as overlords for countless generations, how could the Hurricane Wolves accept the situation so easily? And so began their desperate struggle, which finally led to their evolution. In a sense, it could also be called as devolution, as the Hurricane Wolves had to give up their top class Innate Abilities for Innate Abilities that better suited their environment, but what was the use of those top class Innate Abilities if they could not even survive?
However, it was not just the Innate Abilities of the Wolves that had changed. Even their physical abilities adapted to their environment. Like the extreme speed, and agility of the Green Wind Wolves, or the Dark Wind Wolves’ ability to locate others by listening to the wind. Sensing Alnea walk into its attacking range, with his back to the Beast, the Dark Wind Wolf, crouching within the shadows of the boulder, had not wasted even a moment to think, and took action, striking to kill in one blow. That was just how the Dark Wind Wolves were. Alert, opportunistic, and decisive.
Thankfully, as a Wanderer, even if at just the Seed Rank, Alnea had his own advantages, the most prominent of them being the senses of his Spirit. Though he had not caught on to the wolf before it had made its move, he did catch on to its presence just as it had entered the range of his Spirit’s senses. Observing the direction from which the wolf had jumped, and the direction where its front paws were pointed, Alnea made a prompt decision, and jumped towards his left, doing a backflip in the air, narrowly missing the blades of wind that were aimed at his previous position.
His robe, of course, would have been sufficient to block the attacks, but relying too much on external help was not good for honing his battle sense. And though he could use his dagger, his Spirit Forging session had left him with only a couple units of worth Spirit Power. So, Alnea chose to just increase its sharpness for the moment, as he rushed in towards the wolf just as it had landed on the ground, using the rest of his Oren to enhance the effects of the Lightning Stream Style.
On the wolf’s side, it did not panic when its first attack had failed. But it did not choose to retreat either. Unlike its cousin, Green Wind Wolves, the Dark Wind Wolves did not live in packs. And as such, backing away temporarily held no meaning for the wolf. Besides, having lived on the edge of life and death all its life, if the wolves had learned one thing, it was that showing their back to their enemies without knowing what they were capable would most probably result in their death.
This lesson had been practically engraved in their blood itself, making the Dark Wind Wolves quite a bit more ferocious than the Green Wind Wolves. For them, if they engaged in a fight, there could only be two outcomes, victory, or death. Thus, just as Alnea charged at the wolf, the wolf, regaining its balance, turned around, and leapt at him in return, sending out another set of wind blades from its paws, while opening its jaws as wide as it could, aiming at the neck of its prey.
Alnea, on the other hand, just needed one look at the tense of blades of winds, all packed together within a range of two to three metres, coming straight at him, with the wolf following right behind it, to immediately give up his initial plan of attack, directing all of the energy from the Lightning Stream Style to his knees, allowing it to carry him forward with pure momentum, as he leaned back, almost going down on his knees, to dodge the wind blades, while using the chance to slash his dagger at the wolf’s underbelly, leaving behind a wound that went all the way from the wolf’s chest to its hind legs.
Whimpering, and wailing in pain, the wolf crashed on the ground, while Alnea himself came to a halt, with gravity pulling his head, and his back to the ground. Cursing the rock poking his back, he hurried pulled himself off the ground, and turned around to face the wolf once again. The wolf itself though, was finding it hard to get up. Even turning around to face him was a struggle for it. Slipping in its own blood, it leaned heavily towards left side, its wounded side, as it turned around to face its prey—no, to face its enemy.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Glaring at its enemy, the wolf let out one last growl as a show of respect. It knew what was to come. But it did not despair. Despair was not in its blood. Only death was. Only darkness was. Even if it was to die, it would die with respect. Gathering all of its energy, and all of the Oren that it could, the wolf activated its second Innate Ability, the one which added ‘Dark’ to its name.
On the other side, Alnea had just climbed back to his feet, and turned to face the wolf, when the wolf turned around to face him, and began emitting a blackish glow around itself. Or rather, in an area of a few inches around its fur, a darkness started to gather, that devoured any, and all light nearing the wolf, creating the illusion of a blackish glow. But that was just the beginning. And Alnea knew it.
“…Inkah’s spit,” Alnea cursed, as he hurriedly distanced himself from the wolf, not daring to turn its back against the crazy Beast. “If you want to die, then go die by yourself. Why are you trying to take me out with you?”
The wolf, of course, did not respond to his words. Instead, it responded to his actions. Seeing its enemy run away, it knew that it could not delay. Without even a trace of hesitation, or reluctance, the wolf let out a howl, before detonating all of the power of the Mysteries that it had gathered within itself, supplying the resultant energy to the Mysteries gathering around its body.
In the next moment, the darkness surrounding the wolf imploded, collapsing within itself, transforming into the shape of fist size dark ball, hovering where the wolf had been just moments ago. As for where it had gone after the implosion, the answer was obvious. But Alnea did not have time to think any more about that question. Reaching the mound of boulders that the wolf had jumped out from, Alnea quickly dove towards them, taking shelter behind their solid, two to three metres thick walls, just as the fist sized dark ball, hovering in the distance, exploded, releasing all the darkness contained within itself.
Almost instantaneously, with the black ball as its centre, darkness surged, and spread outwards in all directions, flowing like an unstoppable wind, flooding the world with its darkness. That was probably where it got its name from, Dark Wind Wolf, Wolves riding the winds of darkness. Even the huge boulders that Alnea had hid behind were not able to stop the dark winds, disintegrating, and assimilating into the winds, leaving Alnea to face the winds by himself.
Fortunately, the wolf was just at the peak phase of its Infant Stage. By the time the winds reached him, they were nothing more than just a chilly breeze, that drowned out his vision. That too, only temporarily. Still, it was only when the winds finally ebbed out, and the darkness receded, that Alnea finally let go of the boulder in his Heart. Beside him, the mound of the boulders, along with all the vegetation around him had been mostly turned into dust, carried away with the dark winds. But it was fine. He was fine. And the Night Canyon was fine.
This was the rule of the canyons, survival of the fittest, including even the environment itself. If the boulders had been thick enough, they would not have been reduced to such state. Similarly, if the vegetation had been like the Bone Rotting Plants, the Dark Wind Wolf’s attack would have been just a tickle to it. Even the Razorback Black Water Turtle’s desperate attacks had barely scratched those plants, while even ten Dark Wind Wolves working together—not that they ever would— would not be enough to defeat the turtle. And that was when they all attacked it desperately.
There was a reason why Alnea did not dare to fight the turtle head on, and why his master would set the Beast on him when his Spirit Power was at its peak. Thinking of his Spirit Power, he recalled the thing that he still had to take care of. This time, for sure, Alnea thought, as he resumed the patrol of his territory. The fight just moments ago should have been enough to scare away the Beasts lurking near his territory, and should keep them away for a few hours, enough for what he needed to do.
Just to be on the safer side though, he still went all around his camp, telling all the peeping Oren Beasts, that despite the fight that he had just had, he was still fine. And he could still take them on. He even threatened a few of the Oren Beast close to the border of his territory by mimicking actions of throwing his dagger at them, making the scamper into the darkness of the canyons.
After making sure that no Oren Beasts would be coming to disturb him for a few hours, Alnea returned his camp. Forging his Spirit had already left him exhausted, and the fight had drained him completely, both physically, and mentally. At the moment, he really wished to just sleep, and rest. But when he thought about the Rotting Blood Essence, a light of excitement flashed in his eyes. Taking his bag out from crevice, he took out the gourd like fruit from within it.
Licking his lips, Alnea forcefully suppressed his actions, as he tried to calm his racing Heart. Swallowing the Rotting Blood Essence without a clear, and calm mind was akin to inviting trouble to himself. So, closing his bag, and pushing it back into its hiding place, Alnea closed his eyes, and started meditating. Only when he felt that his Serenity had returned to him, did he open his eyes, and look at the fruit in hands.
“It is all up to you,” Alnea said. “Or I will really have to go to that stingy plant once again.”
Without any further hesitation, Alnea brought the gourd to his face, and bit into it, draining all the Rotting Blood Essence within the fruit in a few gulps, waiting, hoping, praying for the scalding hot liquid, burning his throat, lungs, and stomach, to work its miracle. For the miracle to work though, he had to first fight off all the malice contained within the Rotting Blood Essence. After all, miracles only came to those who worked for them.