Tave sprinted toward the edge of the forest, not daring to look back, not even once.
After everything that had just happened with the wolf pact, he had absolutely no desire to stay a moment longer in those woods. Hunting? Training? Whatever plan he had tonight, completely erased.
He needed distance.
He needed somewhere safe to breathe, to rethink everything.
The moment he crossed the boundary, he let himself fall, crashing down behind the iron railing with a heavy thud, followed by the dull clang of his overloaded bag hitting the ground beside him.
The sky had begun to shift; the horizon glowed with the early hue of dawn.
But all Tave could see was that massive shadow.
That stare.
That howl.
Still etched clearly in his memory.
Fang, the little wolf, padded over and sat in front of him. Those round eyes stared up at Tave. Calm, patient, as if silently asking, Are you okay?
Tave let out a dry, tired laugh. "Yeah, I'm alive, Fang… but my soul is definitely not healthy."
He exhaled, still shaking slightly. But after a few minutes of silence, after the tremor left his fingers, he reached into his bag and pulled out a folded map.
Laying it across his lap, he spread it open and scanned the markings, territory zones, monster classifications, danger levels.
He tapped a spot with his finger.
"Wolves rule this part."
That much was clear.
What wasn't clear… was why they followed him outside their usual territory.
He had been cautious. Precise. Yet they'd still found him.
"They're the ones who crossed the line," he muttered.
This wasn't about him being reckless.
They wanted him. They made it personal.
But despite all that…
He wasn't planning to back down.
Hell no.
If what happened last night was enough to make him quit, then he might as well give up on fighting entirely.
But that wasn't who he was. Not anymore.
He just needed a better plan.
His eyes moved across the map again, scanning for potential hunting zones.
Further out. Deeper. Somewhere where the dominant monsters didn't move in packs. Less risk of being overwhelmed, more opportunity for clean, efficient kills.
He traced the path with his finger and nodded to himself.
That would be his next destination.
His new hunting ground for the next week.
He didn't know what kind of enemies he'd find there, but one thing was certain:
He wasn't going to stop.
Not now. Not after everything.
***
Once they'd had a proper breakfast and a bit more rest, Tave and Fang set out again by midday, following the long stretch of the forest's edge.
Fang, as always, darted back and forth with boundless energy, keeping pace with Tave's quick and determined stride.
But something was different today.
Fang was quieter.
Still full of life, still bouncing and running ahead. But his usual constant barking was reduced to the occasional, curious woof. He'd race ahead, then pause, turning back as if to check on Tave's pace, before dashing off again.
"You really are a brave little wolf, huh, Fang?" Tave said with a crooked grin. "If it wasn't for you… I'd probably be reincarnated again by now. In one of my other novels, maybe."
He laughed to himself at the thought.
Less than two weeks.
That was all the time he had left before the selection test.
He'd said he was aiming to reach Gaia Guardian before then.
But in reality? That goal was borderline impossible.
For most people, it took one to three years to break through from a freshly awakened Gaia Apprentice into a Guardian.
And those who were less talented? They never made it at all.
Still…
If he pushed himself now, used these two weeks to their absolute limit, he could at least condition his body, sharpen his instincts, and maybe… maybe gain a level or two.
Maybe help Fang evolve further. That alone could shift the odds in his favor.
Because at this point, Tave wasn't just training. He was fighting to erase everything about his old mindset. Gone was the man who sat at a desk, living in his head, writing characters stronger than himself.
He glanced up at the sky, exhaled slowly, and let himself grin again.
"Let's go hunt, Fang."
He wasted no time. Though the sun was still high, he launched straight into hunting like nightfall had already come. As always, Fang moved beside him in eerie silence, quick, focused, and deadly. The two of them flowed through the forest like true predators, striking with such speed and precision that most monsters didn't even get a chance to react before they were down.
They found one wild boar in particular already limping, its body torn up with deep, jagged claw marks. Tave didn't hesitate. He and Fang moved in together, finishing the job cleanly. One strike, one kill. One more monster core for their growing collection.
Their hunt continued nonstop, day turning into night, night into day with only the briefest rests when exhaustion finally forced them to stop. They'd retreat to the forest edge just long enough to recover, then plunge back into the trees with the same cold efficiency.
And then it became clear, something was off.
Monster after monster they encountered was already injured, weakened, some barely clinging to life. Some had claw marks, deep and wild like those of a predator. Others looked like they'd been slammed into trees or crushed beneath something massive. Tave began to notice the pattern, and with it came a thought he didn't want to entertain: were these monsters being hunted... by someone else? Or worse, were they being left for him?
Could the wolf pack really be doing this? Softening up the targets? Leaving them behind like offerings for him and Fang?
He clenched his jaw. No. That would be insane. Right?
But he couldn't shake it.
His mind wrestled between the world he'd created and the one he was now living in. Maybe things were bleeding together. Maybe the story he once wrote wasn't as far from this reality as he thought.
Still, he never allowed himself to relax. He always checked the wind. Always scanned the treeline. Always carved out an escape path before stepping into danger. Because as strange as things had become, this was still the wild, and he hadn't even touched the Rift yet. That would be a whole other level of danger.
And then, before he knew it, a full week had passed.
***
Tave stepped out of the tree line, instantly greeted by the rushing sound of water and the crisp, clean scent of a nearby stream. His face lit up the moment he caught sight of it. Finally, a body of water large enough to soak in.
This area looked safe enough. Quiet. Calm. No signs of monsters nearby. For once, he could allow himself a moment to relax.
He dropped his bag onto the ground, stripped off his outer gear without hesitation, and with a deep breath, he jumped.
Splash!
The cold water wrapped around him like a second skin, washing over every inch of his body. He let himself sink beneath the surface, scrubbing the dirt, dried blood, and the days of battle-stained fatigue away.
When he surfaced, he gasped, pure relief flooding through his senses.
He waded over to the edge of the river, leaning back against the smooth stones, letting the cool water run over his skin.
After everything he'd been through, this moment felt like a gift. The filth of the last few days clung to him like a second layer, and now, finally, he was peeling it away.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep.
Until… His instincts screamed.
Like a siren in his skull.
Death! Death!
His body reacted before his mind fully caught up.
Tave surged to his feet, hand snapping toward his blade resting near the water's edge. Just in time to see something hurling itself at him.
Fast. Silent.
Fangs wide. Jaws open.
Coming straight for his throat.