In the end, Lily lent Tave one gold coin.
One. Full. Gold. Coin.
He'd refused at first—because that amount wasn't small. Not at all. In this world, a single gold coin was equivalent to a small fortune, enough to cover weeks of food, gear, and even rent in some parts of the city.
But Lily had access to far more resources than he did.
Thanks to her higher rank and stronger standing in the Knight Academy, her stipend was way above his, and to her, a single gold wasn't a crushing loss.
Still, it stung.
There was something deeply humiliating about being the older brother and having to borrow money from his little sister.
Sigh.
But he didn't have a choice. He needed gear. Supplies. Maybe even a decent backup weapon or potion set.
He promised himself—he'd pay her back. With interest.
The original Tave had really left him with a mess.
As they finished their meal, Lily gave him one last look and spoke with a warning tone.
"Don't go hunting recklessly again."
Tave nodded, lips pressing into a faint smile. "I won't."
And he meant it.
Because this time, he was going to hunt properly, and make sure he came back with a haul worth far more than one gold coin.
***
Late into the night, Tave stirred from his rest—sleep heavy in his bones but his mind sharp and clear. It was already dark outside, the city cloaked in stillness, and the moon was well past its peak.
He sat up, eyes adjusting quickly to the shadows.
Perfect. Just as planned.
Earlier that evening, he'd used the gold Lily had lent him to gather everything he needed. Supplies, tools, emergency rations, and a new set of potions. He had backup gear now, more storage, and enough to sustain him for a few days out in the wild.
This wasn't going to be a one-night hunt. He was going out there to stay, to grind, and to return stronger.
Since the Bloodline Override, nighttime no longer felt oppressive. It felt right.
The darkness didn't hinder him—it heightened him.
His vision, sharper. His senses, more alert. And something deep inside—an instinct, a hunger—kept pulsing beneath his skin, whispering to him like a second heartbeat.
It was thrilling. And just a little terrifying.
Back in his old life, he'd often worked at night anyway, so this wasn't entirely foreign… but this time, he wasn't sitting at a desk. He was stepping out into a forest filled with monsters.
He slipped through the house silently, careful not to wake Lily, who was no doubt already asleep.
At the door, he crouched, lifting Fang into his arms.
"Shhh," he whispered.
The little wolf blinked up at him, eyes wide and round, and then gave the softest flick of his tail in response—completely silent.
Good boy.
Tave let the little wolf trail behind him, giving Fang the freedom to move on his own.
The pup's steps were impressively silent.
Despite his small size, he moved with grace and caution, matching Tave's pace almost perfectly, his paws barely making a sound as they hit the ground.
Once they were past the city gate, Tave picked up speed, occasionally breaking into a jog. It wasn't a full sprint—just enough to raise his heart rate. Consider it a warm-up.
And honestly? It didn't feel bad.
Sure, it was still strange, especially for someone who, in his old world, had rarely done anything physical. But now, it was part of survival. And his body felt different. Stronger. More responsive.
It didn't take long to reach the outskirts of the forest.
But tonight, he wasn't planning to enter the same path as before.
He veered off, aiming for a different section of the woods, away from the area where he'd encountered the wolf pack. He wasn't ready for another encounter with them just yet.
Wild boars, though? He could deal with those.
He looked down briefly and saw Fang keeping pace like a little shadow.
He sighed.
He was bringing this little beast into a live hunt. A real one. In the dead of night.
And while Fang was still technically Tier 1, this was the best way for him to start growing—to learn.
"Fang," he said firmly, "listen closely."
"You stay close. Strike only when there's an opening. You're a wolf. A night hunter. Don't do anything dumb and get caught in an enemy's counterattack, got it?"
The little wolf wagged his tail in response.
Tave smiled faintly.
Good.
Monsters—especially those with a strong bond to their tamers—could develop greater intelligence over time. It wasn't uncommon for them to start understanding human speech, tone, and intent as that bond deepened.
So it made sense that Fang was already picking up on his words.
More than that, monsters didn't grow the way normal animals did. Their growth depended entirely on how much Gaia Force they absorbed. The more they hunted, fought, and survived—the faster they evolved.
So yeah… if Fang absorbed enough force and fought alongside him, there was no reason this tiny wolf wouldn't grow into a full-sized, terrifying predator within a year. Maybe even big enough to ride.
That thought alone made Tave grin.
"Let's get stronger, little guy."
The hunt begins. Again.
***
This—this was real hunting. Nothing like the frantic chaos of his first night. This time, Tave was in control.
His body moved like a shadow. His steps silent, deliberate. His breaths shallow and measured.
With his heightened senses, everything around him came alive in the dark—he could see further, hear clearer, smell sharper.
The night was his ally now.
He could smell the faint musk of a wild boar before he even saw it.
He could hear the hiss of a forest serpent slithering over leaves, the buzz of insectoid monsters nesting in the trees, and the growl of unseen predators lurking just beyond the brush.
And yeah… at first, the awareness was unnerving. Knowing exactly how many monsters shared the night with him… It had sent chills down his spine the first time.
But now?
Now it was power.
He moved fast. Efficient. Calculated.
When the massive boar emerged from the shadows—thick, heavy, stomping through the underbrush like a beast ready to crush him—Tave was already moving.
He shot from the darkness like a blade.
His sword drove straight into the creature's open mouth, piercing through muscle and flesh with precision.
The boar reared and trashed wildly, but Tave didn't back away.
He twisted the blade out with a sharp pull and drove it in again—once to the left, once to the right.
He was fast. Too fast for the beast to react.
And he was smiling. He was actually enjoying this.
With a sudden leap, he jumped onto the boar's back, balanced with ease, and thrust his blade downward—right into the base of its skull.
The monster staggered, legs twitching, and with a final growl—it collapsed.
Thud.
Tave landed lightly beside the corpse, crouched, and immediately rolled the body over.
Time to check for the core.
From the shadows, Little Fang emerged. Its eyes gleaming a faint crimson glow. It circled the fallen boar silently, sniffing and watching like a proper little hunter.
Tave watched him for a second and nodded, satisfied.
Tave knelt beside the little Fang, whispering under his breath, "Tomorrow morning, we're eating well, Fang."
"Woof," came the quiet reply.
They were both hunters now.