Rylan ran in the forest. Drifting pushed his body forward as his eyes darted around. Every step slightly upturned the earth and grass. He weaved between the trees under the sun rays that pierced through the dense canopies. The air was damp and heavy, making his shirt stick close to his body.

Nothing yet.

Even at this speed, his awareness never wavered. His perception captured his surroundings in full as he looked for claw marks and paw prints. Of course, he saw traces of a variety of other monsters, some he didn’t even recognize.

This far away from town, there’s always the risk of another enemy appearing.

Cantavega bordered a large forest, which served as a steady source of income for Adventurers and had allowed the town to develop. The woods had been explored, but some parts were less documented than others. The further one got from the city and the deeper one went into the forest, the less information there was about it. Goblins and kobolds were the only monsters that appeared very close to the town, alongside the occasional troll.

The existence of the Veria Woodlands was part of the reason why there were powerful Mages in Cantavega, including Gerard, who sought to keep watch of the forest and protect the nearby towns from a possible monster wave, which could happen if the number of monsters in the forest got too high.

That woman is probably in town for a different reason, though.

Alfira flashed through his mind before he shook his head. He continued to run, stepping on the tree trunks, rocks, and branches as if he were treading flat ground. His balance didn’t collapse even once, no matter what he did. His eyes kept darting around. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

Rylan jumped on top of a large rock and crouched, looking at the ground. A footprint of what looked like an oversized wolf could be clearly seen, alongside several others. The prints were superimposed over each other.

They’re bigger than I thought.

Even though it was a bit hard to make out the print’s size because of the others on top, he could still tell that a single paw appeared to be almost twenty centimeters in diameter. Direwolves were monsters that hadn’t existed in his past life, which was why he was feeling some anticipation. He grinned.

There are more than five of them.

Since he wasn’t a hunter or tracker, he couldn’t tell exactly how many Direwolves there were, but he still had a general idea. He raised his body and jumped down from the rock. The earth barely shifted under his feet as he landed. Much more slowly, he followed the prints deeper into the woods. The forest became denser the further he went as the distance between the trees was reduced. It was as if the air had become even heavier, to the point of being almost suffocating.

Still, Rylan didn’t let that affect him. He sharpened his senses, slowing down his movement speed a bit more. Barely a few seconds after he stepped into a small clearing, a piercing howl made his ears ring. He let out a breath as he walked to the middle of the clearing.

An ambush, huh?

Another howl resounded, this time much closer. This happened once more before the first enemy stepped into the clearing. Rylan evaluated his opponent. The beast was as tall as he was, despite walking on all fours. Its sharp yellow eyes stood out in the middle of the black fur as its long fangs glinted in the sunlight. The Direwolf growled at him with its fangs bared. Its sharp claws scraped the earth.

He could hear the rapid footsteps coming from behind him. He grinned. Just as he heard the sound of bushes and grass parting, he leaped to the side with Drifting. A hearbeat later, another Direwolf landed where his body had just been. He didn’t stop moving. He jumped with Floating and landed on a thick tree branch just as a third beast reached his previous position. From his higher ground, he could see four more running toward the clearing while crushing the plants underfoot.

They’re smarter than I thought.

The black-furred Direwolf had acted as a distraction and bait for the second one’s ambush. Now that this plan had failed, the entire pack was rushing toward him to overwhelm him with superior numbers. He could start with killing the nearest two Direwolves as soon as possible to prepare himself to deal with the remaining ones and reduce their number, but the purpose of this battle wasn’t to win. He needed to train. He lightly landed in the middle of the clearing, right between the three Direwolves.

“Now, let’s do this.”

He raised his left hand and started chanting. As if they had been waiting for this moment, the Direwolves rushed at him as the rest of the pack stopped just outside of the clearing. Were they trying not to hinder the movements of the three closest ones?

His concentration reached its peak as the three monsters approached him from different directions. Blue mana gathered in his left hand. When the closest Direwolf was barely a meter away, he finished.

“Magic Missile.”

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The blue mana took the shape of an arrow and shot toward the closest Direwolf. Without even seeing the result of this attack, Rylan took two steps to the side and one forward, then tilted his body. The three wolves passed him by, only managing to graze his clothes. One of them was bleeding from the shoulder, where the Missile had hit it. He clicked his tongue. He had been aiming for the eyes.

Man, I really need to become a better Mage.

Still, that was the whole reason why he was here. Over the past few days, he had learned much from Gerard. There was a lot he wanted to test in battle. He also needed to hone his ability to actually cast spells and use magic in real fights. Roland’s memories and battle experience whispered in his ear. He wasn’t on his own; he had lived a whole life as the strongest.

The wolves sunk their claws into the earth, grinding to a halt. Without missing a beat, Rylan resumed his casting as they turned to face him. One was two meters away, while the other two were three meters away. The timing would be tight. His sharpened mind focused as the beasts lunged toward him. It took him less than a second to determine that he wouldn’t be able to cast quickly enough. Decisively discarding his spell, he weaved between the Direwolves with Drifting, spinning right between two attacks and letting them graze his clothes.

Again.

Mana started gathering in his left hand as he jumped backward. Magic Missile was still the only spell he knew, but he was already working on it with Gerard. This training session’s goal wasn’t to test out a bunch of different spells, anyway. He needed to develop his casting speed and his ability to cast during a battle.

One of the Direwolves around the clearing joined the fight. There were now four hulking enemies, each far larger than Rylan, coming for his life. However, it was this kind of situation that made him feel alive. He openly smiled as he chanted.

The battle became a dangerous dance where a single wrong step would mean death. He hadn’t even drawn his sword, but this only added to the thrill. Unceasingly trying to cast Magic Missile, he avoided every attack that came at him. Sometimes he moved too quickly and disturbed his own casting, or fumbled his chanting. It didn’t dampen his motivation in the least.

Faster.

He dodged the black-furred Direwolf’s swipe but felt the claws of another cut his back and slightly sink into his flesh before he moved away. It was the price of his inexperience with casting spells during battle. Even as pain flooded his senses, he remained focused on his casting. He suddenly crouched, letting the figure of one of the enemies pass over him, where his torso had been.

“Magic Missile.”

The blue arrow pierced upward diagonally, hitting the Direwolf he’d just dodged in the rear leg, right in the knee. The Missile drilled past the enemy’s skin and punctured the bone as blood flowed freely, making the Direwolf yelp as it landed. Its legs failed to hold up its weight. But every attack meant an opportunity for his enemies. Without hesitating or even looking around, Rylan used Drifting to move closer to the injured Direwolf. Claws grazed his back and shoulder, drawing lines of blood that burned with pain.

Better.

He raised his body and pointed his left hand at the closest Direwolf, ignoring his wounds. He discarded his casting as he dodged a leap. He tried casting as he moved, but it was much harder than doing so while staying still. He freely used the tree trunks and branches as footing for his jumps and dashes, which allowed him to avoid most of the Direwolves’ attacks. At this point, every single beast had joined the fight and given up on surrounding the clearing.

His shirt was shredded by the Direwolves’ claws as new wounds appeared over the old ones. His pants were also damaged, but it was as if he couldn’t feel pain. With a calm expression, Rylan kept chanting, trying to cast in different situations and circumstances. Moving, jumping, staying still. His blood flowed into the earth and over his skin, but he only smiled. He could tell that he was improving. His Trait screamed at him to either run away or give up and die, but he naturally couldn’t give in. Getting rid of it was still his highest priority, after all.

He used Drifting freely, but his inexperience with spellcasting had resulted in injuries. It didn’t matter. It was the price of progress. The dangerous dance continued as more of the Magic Missiles landed on the Direwolves, paying back the suffering he was enduring. Wounds accumulated in both parties. Spell after spell, Rylan gradually became more familiar with casting in the middle of a life-and-death battle. It was the kind of experience that he couldn’t have if he stayed holed up in the Flameheart manor.

His mana continuously decreased. After many excruciatingly long minutes, he evaluated his mana pool and decided.

“I’m sorry boys, but I’m going to have to cut this party short.”

Snarls and growling were his only reply as the seven Direwolves rushed at him at the same time. He was completely surrounded by the giant beasts. Rylan let out a breath as he unsheathed his sword and raised it. The moment the Direwolves got too close, he jumped up with Floating, then tilted his body forward, pointing the tip of the sword down. Mana roared within his body, circulating at its fastest. He used the branch above him as footing, standing upside down.

Stormcaller Sword Style, Third Movement: Rainfall.

Thrusts fell like rain as the Direwolves tried to grind to a halt to avoid crashing into each other. The blade was coated with mana that moved as if it were lightning, especially at the tip. The first thrust reached the neck of one of the monsters. Skin and flesh gave way to mana and steel amidst a storm of scarlet. The blade dug into the gaps between the creature’s cervical vertebrae and came out on the other side, slashing the windpipe and nearby blood vessels. A fraction of a second later, the blade was pulled out and arrived in the neck of another Direwolf.

The essence of the Third Movement was repeated fast attacks. It didn’t matter if they were thrusts or slashes. As Rylan lightly landed on the ground with a somersault right in the middle of the Direwolves, four of them dropped to the ground. The remaining three were injured, but still breathing. There was no meaning in extending their suffering. His sword flashed as he used Drifting. Blood sprayed through the air in a circle, landing on the tree trunks and on the blades of grass on the ground. Finally, the remaining Direwolves fell like puppets with their strings cut.

Rylan let out a breath and rested his blade against his shoulder. All his muscles screamed at him, voicing their complaints.

It’s a bit early for the Third Movement and the ones afterward.

Still, he hadn’t completely lost the ability to fight after using the Sword Art. It was a good sign. He looked at the System messages floating in his view.

[Strength has increased by 1.]

[Intelligence was increased by 1.]

[Wisdom was increased by 1.]

He smiled. They were a welcome sight, especially since he was only trying to improve his spellcasting abilities during a battle. Tomorrow, he would talk to Gerard about his improvement and see what else to do.

His training continued.