While I searched for and read the article in the Archive, Rue went off exploring. I felt a flicker of worry for a moment—I still didn’t know why all those pretty pagodas were deserted. But then I relaxed. Rue was a big boy in every sense of the word, and if anything had happened to him, I would have known. Our connection would have led me straight to him in no time. In this case, his tendency to explore led to our first encounter in this world—a truly unique experience.

After finishing the article, I was still sitting there, lost in thought, when Rue burst into the house. “John come quick! Friend wolf need help.”

Outside, Rue immediately launched into the air, and I followed close behind. After a brief flight deeper into the forest, we reached a clearing where a white wolf sat in the center. It was a normal-sized wolf—not Rue-sized—and its fur was snow-white, with almost-white, light blue eyes. Cold waves radiated from it, like an aura, sending a chill through the air. I got goosebumps and, looking closer, noticed a thin layer of frost beneath it.

The wolf met my gaze and dipped its head in a bow. “Greetings, Healer Sage.”

My jaw nearly hit the ground. A talking animal wasn’t all that strange—I had Rue, after all, and I’d encountered other familiars in Lumis. But this wolf wasn’t a familiar; I could feel that clearly. What caught me off guard was that he didn’t speak telepathically like Rue. Instead, he spoke out loud, which was the real shock. He didn’t move his mouth like a person, but it wasn’t telepathic either—I could feel the mana carrying his voice to me.

I also knew, without a doubt, that he was male. The voice didn’t sound male, female, or anything in between, but somehow, I just knew.

What made it even stranger was that he didn’t speak in English or any other language I recognized, yet I understood him perfectly. This wasn’t like the feelings or impressions Rue used to communicate with me before he gained some levels—it was actual speech. Sound, carried on mana, and somehow I understood every word.

I nodded to the wolf and said in English, “Hello, wolf,” immediately feeling like an idiot.

What kind of greeting was that? Did he even understand me?

Waves of amusement rolled off Rue, directed squarely at me.

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.

Rue took over the communication, stepping forward with his ears perked and tail wagging slightly. He didn’t speak telepathically—or if he did, he didn’t include me in the conversation—but I could tell he was communicating with the wolf. His posture, the subtle shifts in his head and body, made it obvious something was being exchanged.

I crossed my arms and frowned. I had to crack this meaning-based speech—the transcended words. I couldn’t let my dog show me up. It was embarrassing.

The wolf dipped his head again, his light blue eyes locking on me. “Would you help my kin?”

“Sure,” I replied, trying to infuse my meaning with mana as I spoke. I focused hard, imagining the intention flowing out with my words.

It didn’t feel like it worked, but my intention somehow got across. The wolf turned gracefully and left the clearing without another word.

I looked at Rue, raising an eyebrow. “How do you talk to him? He doesn’t talk telepathically.”

Rue tilted his head and wagged his tail once. “Rue understand friend. Friend smart, talk to Rue. Rue smart, talk to friend.”

Yeah, that didn’t clear things up much, but I let it go with a sigh. Knowing Rue, he wasn’t trying to be a smartass—that was just the way he saw it.

We stood there silently, waiting for what felt like six or seven minutes, though it could have been longer. The air was still, and the surrounding forest seemed to hold its breath. Finally, the wolf returned, emerging from the trees with steady, purposeful steps.

On his back was another wolf, draped across him like a lifeless rag. This one was in terrible shape—its white fur was streaked with red, matted down with blood from deep lacerations that covered its body. My stomach twisted at the sight.

Without hesitation, I stepped forward and touched the injured wolf. The wounds were bad—really bad. She was barely hanging on. I poured mana into my Healing Touch spell, watching the worst of the lacerations knit together. It wasn’t enough.

I cast Healing Touch again and then once more. It took three full casts to stabilize the wolf, but her breathing had evened out when I finally stepped back. I cast Clean, and the bloodied fur regained its pristine white color. This wolf also radiated cold, but not as strongly as the other one.

The first wolf watched me closely, his piercing light blue eyes darting between me and his injured companion. There was a heavy intensity to his gaze, as if weighing my worth in the silence.

I decided to give the mana speech another shot. I leaned forward slightly and asked, “Who did this to her?”

“Cultivators.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder, the anger in his words radiating off him in waves. It wasn’t just anger—it was the kind of rage that simmered at the edge of violence, full of dark thoughts and the promise of vengeance.

I hesitated but pressed on. “Why?”

“To get our beast cores and absorb the essence.”

I blinked, staring at him. “You didn’t attack them?”

The words came out clumsily, and I knew my shock had messed up my mana-infused speech. The connection wavered, and my intent faltered.

The wolf’s gaze shifted to Rue, and I could feel their communication. After a moment, the wolf turned back to me, his voice calm but firm. “No, we do not attack cultivators.”

I frowned, trying to process that, but I needed to be sure. This time, I focused harder, pushing more mana into my voice. “What about regular people?”

The wolf’s head tilted sideways, as if considering my question. Then, with quiet certainty, he replied, “We do not attack the two-legged. They are not our prey.”

The female wolf opened her eyes, and I immediately felt her hunger—it was overwhelming, almost primal. Reaching into one of my coolers, I pulled out a slab of beef and placed it in front of her. She pounced on it, tearing into the meat with savage desperation, her teeth flashing as she devoured it.

The male sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring with interest. His gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing. I grabbed another slab of beef and held it out to him. He looked at the meat, then at me, then back at the meat, and finally at me again.

After a moment of hesitation, he dipped his head slightly. “Gratitude.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied automatically, only to realize—again—that I hadn’t infused my words with mana. Sheesh, I thought to myself in mild frustration. Still, my intention must have gotten across because he didn’t seem confused.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

After he and his girlfriend? Finished eating, I asked, “Do you have other injured wolves that need help?”

Yes, this time I actually remembered to infuse it with mana. This mana speech was easier than I’d initially thought—I just needed to remember to do it.

He looked at me, his sharp gaze assessing, as though weighing my intentions. I could feel the hesitation radiating off him—he didn’t fully trust me yet and was trying to decide what to do.

Turning to Rue, I carefully infused my words with mana so the wolf could understand. “I’m going home. If your friend decides he needs my help, come get me.”

I had no intention of trying to convince a wolf that I was a good guy. If he needed me, he’d come to his own conclusions.

Turning to leave, I heard the wolf speak, his voice stopping me. “Can you heal old wounds?”

I turned back to him, meeting his piercing gaze, and nodded. “Yes.”

“Wait here.”

Without another word, he and the female wolf disappeared into the forest, their movements silent and swift.

I sighed and lowered myself onto the grass, shaking my head in disbelief. Wolves were ordering me around now. Wolves. I couldn’t believe it. I leaned back slightly, running a hand through my hair.

What’s next? Taking orders from squirrels?

Rue sprawled out beside me, his massive frame sinking into the grass. He rested his head on my lap, his ears twitching expectantly. With a chuckle, I obliged, scratching them the way he liked.

“Your friends are rude,” I said, my fingers rubbing his fur.

“Friend not rude. Friend not trust people. People hurt friend,” Rue replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness.

I sighed, glancing toward the forest where the wolves had vanished. Fair enough, I thought, but it didn’t make the waiting any easier.

After some time, the wolf returned, and he wasn’t alone. A whole pack followed behind him, moving with a silent grace. There had to be at least twenty of them, their forms emerging one by one from the shadows of the trees.

All of them were white, but their coats varied in subtle ways. Unlike him or the female I had healed, whose fur was pure snow-white, some of these wolves had coats tinged with shades of off-white, while others had streaks of gray or tan in their fur. Their eyes were all a piercing blue, but none matched the strikingly pale, almost white color of the alpha’s eyes.

As they closed in, I noticed something else—they all radiated an aura of cold, the air around them heavy with an unnatural chill. It wasn’t as intense as the alpha’s but unmistakable. The frost beneath their paws seemed to follow them, and I could feel the varying degrees of cold they carried, each slightly less potent than the alpha’s biting presence.

I turned to the alpha, meeting his icy gaze. “Can they understand me if I speak, or do you need to translate?”

He stood tall, with his head held high. “Speak human. If help is needed, I will provide it.”

Reaching into my Storage, I pulled out an operating table. The metal gleamed in the clearing, catching the faint light filtering through the canopy. “Please decide among yourselves who gets treated first. The one going first, hop on the table. I’ll put you to sleep so you won’t feel any pain.” I paused, realizing they might get upset about the anesthesia. Quickly, I added, “This sleep isn’t harmful. Don’t worry—it’s only to stop you from feeling pain.”

For a moment, the clearing was silent, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves overhead. Then, low growls rippled through the pack—not deafening, but their threat was unmistakable.

Rue was on his feet instantly. His massive body shifted in front of me like a shield, and he let out a growl so deep and loud that it rumbled through the ground beneath us. It was the first time I’d ever heard him growl with such ferocity—not even monsters had gotten that kind of reaction out of him.

The alpha growled as well, but his was quieter, more measured—a warning rather than a challenge. His blue eyes swept across the pack, his authority clear.

The growling wolves immediately lowered their heads in submission, their ears flattening against their skulls. Two of them even rolled onto their backs, exposing their bellies in an obvious display of deference. The tension eased as quickly as it had flared, the pack falling silent again.

The alpha gave a single nod, his satisfaction radiating like a silent approval. The clearing felt calm once more, though Rue remained standing beside me, his stance protective, eyes locked on the wolves as if daring them to try again.

The first wolf stepped up onto the table, moving with a hesitant but steady grace. I cast Diagnose, and the results filled my mind: extensive scar tissue from old wounds, a poorly healed lung injury that had cut lung function by half, two missing toes, and one blind eye from an ancient injury. This was no small task—I had my work cut out for me.

The day stretched on as I treated one wolf after another. Each had its own share of injuries: broken bones that hadn’t set right, deep scars, and internal damage. Some were missing fur in patches, others carried wounds that spoke of long-fought battles. It was exhausting but satisfying work.

Between treatments, I fed each wolf slabs of dungeon beef, the rich, marbled meat disappearing in seconds as they devoured it hungrily.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the clearing grew darker, long shadows stretching across the forest floor. I turned to Rue, who was sprawled nearby, watching everything curiously. “Rue, buddy. Go home and get me the standing lamp from my bedroom—the one I got in Lumis.”

Without hesitation, he bounded into the night and returned faster than I expected. Setting it up, I flicked it on, the warm glow casting long beams of light that pushed back the surrounding darkness.

I worked through half the night, healing one wolf after another. When I finally finished, exhaustion weighing on me, I took a moment to observe the pack. They seemed calmer now, their icy blue eyes reflecting the soft light with a quiet, almost solemn gratitude I hadn’t anticipated.

Rue lounged nearby, his massive form stretched out in the grass. He watched the pack with intense focus, his tail giving the occasional slow thump against the ground.

The last wolf finished his slab of meat, licking the remnants from his chops before joining the others. Slowly, all the wolves rose to their feet, moving with a quiet grace that filled the clearing with an almost ceremonial air.

The alpha stepped forward, standing tall and commanding, while the rest of the pack assembled behind him in a perfect wedge formation. In unison, they bowed low, their heads nearly brushing the ground. The alpha’s voice, deep and steady, broke the silence. “Our gratitude to the Healing Sage. Wait here. I will show the pack’s gratitude with a material gift.”

Without another word, the entire pack turned in flawless synchronization and disappeared into the forest, their movements swift and silent.

Left alone for the moment, I let out a long breath, rubbing the back of my neck. The clearing felt oddly empty without their presence. Rue stretched lazily beside me, his tail flicking contentedly.

With a quick glance, my eyes fell on the blinking red light in the corner of my vision—a notification I’d been ignoring while focused on the treatments. Might as well check it now, I thought, sitting down and opening the interface to see what had been vying for my attention.

Level up

+3 Intelligence, +3 Wisdom, +2 Vitality, +3 Free points

Class: Healer Level 15

Available Stats: 6

The available points surprised me for a moment, but then I remembered—I hadn’t assigned them after my last level-up following my Aggressive Clean escapades. I added all six to Constitution, bringing it up to 80. With the boost to my Vitality and the points I’d put into Constitution, my Health climbed to 8,800, which was nice—a better buffer for the next life-force-sucking dungeon like the hellscape.

I also checked my profile to see what I had gained for reaching level 15. A new entry had appeared under Healer: Ranged Heal.

I poked it.

Ranged Heal

Channel healing energy to a target within range.

Requires direct line of sight.

I looked up at the sky, throwing my arms wide in exasperation. “Would it kill you to give some more information? Like, what distance? What does it heal? The cost? Anything! This lack of data is ridiculous.”

A faint sense of embarrassment trickled into my mind from the permanent connection point, like a weak apology I hadn’t asked for.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Don’t feel embarrassed. That doesn’t help anybody. Just fix it!”

A wave of expectation followed, as if it were waiting for something from me.

I threw up my hands. “I don’t know what you expect of me! I’m not a computer guy, or a system guy, or whatever you think I am. Just fix it instead of sending me these cryptic feelings—it’s annoying.”

Silence. No feelings, no reaction. This time, the connection had nothing to say.

The wolf returned, his silent approach almost unnerving in the stillness of the clearing. Without a word, he lowered his head and gently deposited a glimmering blue crystal onto the ground before me. The crystal caught the faint light, refracting it into shards of sapphire that danced across the grass.

“For our gratitude.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then turned away with the same silent grace, his white form blending seamlessly into the shadows. Within seconds, he melted into the night, leaving only the crystal and the faint chill of his presence behind.

I identified it:

Affinity Stone

Ice

Huh! Maybe that will crack my issue with the water.