‘This is bad,’ Jack thought, maintaining the chūdan-no-kamae stance as his gaze scrutinized the direction the howl had sounded out from.

The conclusion his intuition led him to, was in part, the reason behind his dismay. Most likely, the two beasts had been stalking their group— possibly having picked up their trail somewhere in the last twenty minutes. That was a marked difference from the Twilight Boars— who had charged headlong at them the moment they spotted their group. There was one more fact that gave credence to his theory, namely, the timing of the howl; up until the point they were haplessly walking onwards, the beasts seemed content to shadow them. But the moment they’d stopped…. especially when they managed to pinpoint the direction of the threat….

The beasts were intelligent enough to perceive the exact moment when their ambush failed.

He would rather face a strong, but simple-minded foe over a cunning, relatively weaker one any day of the week.

However, that alone was not enough to dampen Jack’s intent, no.

That howl, he was almost certain that he recognized it…

What if a beast was both intelligent and strong?

That…well…. truthfully,

He was afraid.

Fragmented shards of memories echoed in his mind as his brain subconsciously called upon the last time he had felt so strongly about something, the visceral fear coursing through his mind threatening to dominate his mind.

Memories were remembered.

But for Jack, this memory was vivid enough to be heard. The cheerful carnival music playing in the background. The joyful cheers and panicked cries of children as they tried the amusement park rides. The chatter and occasional laughter of the parents as they watched their children with smiles. It could be tasted, for he still remembered the flavor of the sickeningly sweet strawberry candy he bit into instead of salivating over, too impatient to get to the good part. It could be smelled, an aroma of blissful joy and diabetes inducing goodness permeating through the premises.

Bandana covering the nose and mouth. Generic black sunglasses. Odd gait. Rushed movements.

BANG!

BANG!

Forty five seconds was the number he’d come up with after replaying the scene over and over in his mind’s eye. Forty five seconds was all it took to permanently change the trajectory of someone’s life.

Fear…. was no alien emotion to Jack.

It was a companion.

The monsters under his bed. The snipers peeking out from behind the window. Purported assassins waiting for him to step out of the family manor, so that they could finally finish the job. The third ‘BANG!’- the one that never arrived. In hindsight, it was quite amazing what the anxious mind could conjure given a creative enough imagination. All that said,

Jack knew how to deal with fear.

The first step to overcoming fear was to accept that you could not overcome it.

You do not train your mind to overcome your fear.

You do not try to master your mind to make it impervious to fear.

For a man who fears nothing, is no man at all.

No, the conclusion he reached was a much simpler one.

Fear, at its core, was an emotion.

And an emotion, boiled down to its essence, was a form of energy.

You do not accept your fear.

You do not try to master it.

You catalyze it.

A grin made its way to Jack’s visage as he caught a silvery blur in the periphery of his vision. This time, though, there was no frontal charge to counter. Their movements were characterized by a natural grace, one that was a direct consequence of exceptional spatial awareness skills. Their cerulean blue pupils gleamed with a spark of intelligence, the duo’s body held close to the ground, knife-like ears pricked forward as they stepped out from behind an Anarix Tree. They walked side by side, their relaxed gait conveying poise and a general sense of unhurriedness.

For Jack’s group though, it was the opposite. The air they breathed felt like it had been blanketed by a thick cloud of smog, as the stalkers of the night, the silent predators– wolves— cast an oppressive aura upon their group merely by revealing their presence. But these were no ordinary wolves— not with their silver coat of fur, crystalline claws and larger, bulkier frame, with a musculature more characteristic of a lion than an ordinary wolf.

A light gasp escaped Sarah, her gaze trained upon their razor sharp, canine jaws. Andrew's gaze flickered to the side, before he shook his head— outrunning a boar might still be possible, but a wolf?

‘Inspect.’

[You have successfully inspected a Level 3 Silvercrest Wolf, Trial Classification: Evolved predators from Earth’s fauna.

[Description: Originally a Gray Wolf native to parts of North America and Eurasia, this creature has been blessed by the Divine Flames, significantly strengthening its natural defenses and granting it the ability to cultivate via a beast core.]

[Inspect has reached Level 3! Additional details are now available. Would you like to be notified of them?]

‘Yes’.

[In addition to being granted the ability to cultivate, the Silvercrest Wolf has awakened an evolutionary talent. The crest resting upon its forehead has the ability to modify the nature of Qi coursing through it. However, Level 3 Inspect cannot discern the true nature of the modification].

Jack’s gaze snapped to the larger, likely male Silvercrest Wolf, though that was only relatively. His discerning gaze managed to spot a vague set of interlocking lines resting upon the male wolf’s forehead. Normally, Jack would have never noticed this small detail— for the lines looked like a few errant scratches, or at most, the scars of old wounds. However, both the wolves had near-identical markings scrawled over their forehead, immediately ringing alarm bells in his mind.

A moment later, his suspicions were proven true as the marks on their forehead began to glow.

“Brace yourselves!” Jack bellowed out, his gaze flickering between the two wolves as he tried to discern their intent.

The male Silvercrest Wolf let out a mighty howl even when Jack knew that it had no pack members in earshot range.

It was a signal.

The female Silvercrest Wolf shot out with explosive speed, a vague silhouette of silvery-white energy ensconcing her form. To his visual acuity, it seemed like Qi, but to his senses the energy felt foreign, almost… tainted— as if he was not capable of utilizing that variation of it.

So that’s what the damn crest does.

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