Extract from the -{ Tome of the ‘Forgotten One’ }- Divine scripture of the Church of the ‘Forgotten One’.

"Amidst the whispers of ancient prophecies, a star descends from realms beyond mortal grasp. Embrace the revelation of the chosen one, destined to rewrite the annals of history tainted by the deceit of false light." (The Descent of Darkness - 4:8)

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Asher's eyes snapped open, his arms still crossed protectively over his face. A translucent barrier shimmered around him, separating him from the snarling red-furred wolf. The beast hurled itself against the shield repeatedly, each impact sending spiderweb cracks racing across its surface.

His heart pounding, Asher fumbled for his knife. Time seemed to slow as he focused on the wolf's rhythmic attacks. With each collision, the barrier trembled, the cracks spreading like frost across a windowpane. It was painfully clear – one more hit would shatter his only defense.

Muscles coiled tight as springs, Asher steadied his breathing. The world beyond the barrier faded away, leaving only him and the frenzied beast. In that moment of crystalline clarity, a single thought burned in his mind: kill or be killed.

The wolf lunged one final time. The barrier exploded in a shower of ethereal shards. Asher seized his chance, exploding forward with desperate speed. His left hand shot out, forcing the wolf's muzzle upward as he plunged the knife deep into its skull from below.

Bone and sinew resisted the blade's advance. The wolf thrashed wildly, but Asher clung on with grim determination. Wrapping his left arm around the beast's head, he threw his entire body weight behind the knife. With a sickening crunch, it plunged deeper, severing brain and spinal cord.

A weak whimper escaped the wolf's throat as the light faded from its eyes. The forest fell eerily silent.

Gasping for air, Asher wrenched the knife free and shoved the beast's lifeless body away. He stumbled back, collapsing onto the blood-soaked earth. As the adrenaline began to ebb, the full weight of what had just transpired crashed over him.

"Sigh... fuck," he muttered, staring at his blood-drenched clothes. His first true battle to the death, and he had emerged victorious. But there was no time to process the emotions swirling within him.

A chorus of distant howls shattered the momentary peace. Icy terror gripped Asher's heart as he scrambled to his feet, sprinting away from the approaching pack. The system chimed with a notification, but survival took precedence over whatever message it held.

For twenty grueling minutes, Asher ran with everything he had. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed in protest. Finally, he spotted a towering tree and scrambled up its trunk, perching on a high branch to catch his breath.

The hunter's words echoed in his mind. Just a month ago, he would have been easy prey. Now, he had a fighting chance – but for how long?

The wolves' howls hadn't faded. If anything, they seemed to be coming from multiple directions. Asher strained his ears, realizing with growing dread that the pack had split up to search for him.

He weighed his options. Continuing to run risked leading him into even more dangerous territory. Fighting gave him a slim chance, provided he could face them one at a time. It was a gamble, but his instincts screamed that it was his best shot.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"I need to get a better view," Asher muttered, climbing higher.

From his elevated perch, he surveyed the landscape. Rolling hills surrounded him, but in the distance, a solitary mountain rose above them all. It would serve as a decent landmark to orient himself.

As Asher formulated a plan, movement caught his eye. A lone wolf was charging towards his tree, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Taking a deep breath, Asher steeled himself and leapt down to meet it.

"Come at me, you little shit," he growled, crouching with his knife at the ready.

The wolf lunged. Asher rolled, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. In one fluid motion, he sprang up and pounced on the beast as it landed. The wolf whirled to attack, but Asher was faster. His knife found the wolf's open mouth, jamming it wide.

Asher's free hand clamped down on the wolf's neck as he used his body weight to pin it. The beast thrashed wildly, but Asher held firm. With a grunt of effort, he angled the blade and drove it deep into the roof of the wolf's mouth. A pained whine escaped the creature as it struggled in its death throes.

Panting heavily, Asher yanked the knife free. He had barely caught his breath when another wolf slammed into him from behind. Pure luck saved him as he instinctively raised his knife arm. The beast impaled itself on the blade, yelping as it sprang away.

Asher rolled to face this new threat, ignoring the burning scratches across his chest. The injured wolf charged again, maddened by pain and bloodlust. Thinking quickly, Asher scooped up a handful of dirt and flung it into the beast's face.

Blinded, the wolf leapt blindly. Asher ducked low, thrusting upward with his knife. The blade found its mark in the soft flesh of the wolf's throat. Grabbing its body, Asher used the beast's momentum to roll, pinning it beneath him as he finished the job.

"Is there no fucking end to them?" Asher gasped, his arms trembling from exertion.

He forced himself to run again, desperate to put distance between himself and the carnage. But the pack was relentless. Soon, two more wolves were snapping at his heels.

Ahead, Asher spotted a small cliff. With no time to change course, he made a split-second decision and hurled himself over the edge.

He hit the ground hard, rolling to disperse the impact. As he struggled to his feet, a blur of red fur filled his vision. One of the wolves had followed him off the cliff, jaws wide and aiming for his throat.

Instinct took over. Asher twisted, using the wolf's momentum against it. He planted his feet on the beast's belly and flung it away. But before he could catch his breath, the second wolf was upon him.

Teeth clamped down on Asher's right shoulder. Only his quick reflexes saved him as he jammed the knife between the wolf's jaws. With a pained grunt, he toppled sideways, dragging the wolf with him.

Using every ounce of strength he had left, Asher pinned the beast. His left arm strained to keep those snapping jaws away from his throat as he plunged the knife into its chest again and again.

A snarl from behind was his only warning. The first wolf had recovered and launched itself at Asher's exposed back. In desperation, he threw up his left arm to shield his neck.

White-hot pain exploded through Asher's forearm as the wolf's teeth sank deep. He screamed in agony, stabbing wildly at the beast on top of him. The knife struck bone, halting its progress towards the wolf's heart.

The jaws around Asher's arm tightened inexorably. He could feel the bones grinding, on the verge of snapping. Raw survival instinct took over. With a primal roar, Asher summoned strength he didn't know he possessed. He rolled, using his body weight to drive the knife through bone and into the wolf's heart.

As the beast's grip slackened, Asher collapsed, his vision swimming. Blood poured from his mangled arm, and his entire body screamed in protest. But he knew he couldn't rest. Not yet. Somewhere in the forest, more wolves were coming. And Asher had no choice but to face them or die trying.

Asher's vision swam as he pried open the dead wolf's jaws, freeing his mangled arm. The forest around him seemed to pulse with each throb of pain. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the moss-covered ground a deep crimson. The metallic scent of his own blood mingled with the musky odor of the wolf's fur, creating a nauseating cocktail that threatened to overwhelm him.

Gritting his teeth against the agony, Asher surveyed the damage. The flesh of his forearm hung in ragged strips, exposing glimpses of pale bone beneath. A small mercy – the bones remained unbroken. With trembling fingers, he tore at his shirt, the fabric ripping with a sound that seemed deafening in the eerie silence of the forest. He bound the makeshift bandage tightly around his arm, watching as it immediately began to soak through with alarming speed.

Asher tested his arm's mobility, each movement sending fresh waves of pain coursing through his body. The limb was compromised, vulnerable to any further assault. His eyes darted frantically around the clearing, searching for something – anything – that could offer protection. They landed on the wolf's carcass, an idea forming through the haze of pain and adrenaline.

The beast's mutation had gifted it with unnaturally sturdy bones. Bones that might just save Asher's life. With grim determination etched on his face, he set to work. His knife, still slick with blood, sliced through flesh and sinew. The wet sounds of tearing meat filled the air as he exposed the wolf's leg bones.

Asher positioned his knee against the joint, steeling himself for what came next. With a grunt of effort, he wrenched the limb with all his might. A sickening crack echoed through the forest, followed by Asher's own strangled cry of exertion. He severed the remaining ligaments, his stomach churning at the gruesome task.

Strips of his ruined shirt became makeshift bindings as he lashed the wolf's bone to his forearm. The result was crude but effective – a grotesque splint that might just keep him alive long enough to escape this nightmare.