Benjera took a steady breath as he came out of another [Dash]. The count appeared again. Minimal blue letters from his Divine Integration System. He liked blue.

  [Quest: Slayer — 17/24 >>> 18/24]

  He flicked his wrist and sent the worst of the blood flying from the blade in a dark arc. The wolf collapsed behind him, its blood already threading into the grass. The smell reached him a moment later. Iron. Musk. Something sharp and sour underneath it. He drew the cloth from his belt and wiped the steel down with practiced care, but it still streaked slightly.

  His mouth tightened into a frown. He did not like blood on his blade. He ignored the droplets that speckled his skin and darkened his uniform because Benjera would not rust, and soap would handle the rest. The sword mattered. He wiped again until the metal gleamed dull and clean.

  Only then did he move.

  There was no hard cap on his [Dash], but chaining it too tightly came with risk. The more he pushed it, the more likely he was to bury himself full speed into a tree and break something important. He had never found a clean way around that limitation. He turned the problem over in his head as he walked toward the Wild Nexus, boots grinding against roots and pale stone.

  The air was thick and unmoving. Humidity clung to his skin and sweat gathered at his collar and the small of his back. Light filtered green and blue through the canopy overhead. It was far too late to rebuild the skill now.

  His [Resonance] never truly shut off. Everything within fifty feet lived half present at the edges of his awareness. Insects moved in lines through the leaf litter. Small bodies tunneled under bark and soil. The forest was loud with layered chirping that never fully resolved into silence. No people. No press of bodies. No skills monitoring him.

  The quiet loosened something in his chest.

  He stopped tracking his skills so tightly and let the humidity and shade settle over him. Twenty-three wolves in one half was a lot. He did not need to finish it all, he had gleams to get the work done. He could take his time, the wolves were not going anywhere.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Another thing he shared with them.

  He slowed at the edge of a pond. The water lay unnaturally still beneath a film that caught the light in dull, sick browns and blacks. The smell rolled off it in waves of rot and mineral decay. Nothing drank here. Nothing touched it. It was a dead woman that had taught him not to drink still water, and he gave it a wide berth.

  A frog leapt into his path without warning. White and lumpy like the bark around them, its throat ballooned with a shrill chirp. Benjera snapped forward with an outreached hand, then laughed when he missed it once, twice, and finally caught it on the third wild hop. His hands closed around its body, slick and cool and surprisingly strong.

  “Want to come home with me?” he crooned, before laughing again.

  The frog ignored him and wriggled free anyway, slime coating his palms. He grinned as it vanished into the brush unaware of his joke. His attention had slipped entirely.

  Two wolves tensed at the edge of his vision as his passive [Resonance] finally snapped into his mind with focus. His hand was already moving when his awareness caught up. The blade flashed free from his belt. He watched them both visually and with his skill as he also grabbed his tuning rod and tapped the tip against a calcified branch.

  The metal rang softly. The sound shivered through the stillness.

  [Resonance 12 ^^^^]

  The forest replied all at once. Information flooded in as vibration carried through stone and root and bone. He felt everything and stripped it down to flesh and trees in his way.

  Nine wolves.

  His stance settled defensively without conscious thought. Which one would commit to fighting him first? Had they grouped because he had started thinning them out?

  The wolves stared at him.

  Benjera stared back.

  They shifted. Hesitated. Backed away a step, then another. The press of their paws against earth registered faintly through his awareness. None of their attention stayed on him for long. Every head kept angling toward the Nexus.

  Benjera followed their gaze.

  The raised structure loomed through the trees. He had not failed to pick up the lone person there. Still, the wolves didn’t hunt in packs.

  His grip tightened on the sword. Leather warm against his palm. Was this the gods siding with Jay? Had he made a mistake letting the wolves grow instead of breaking them early?

  The thought barely landed before amusement replaced it. He was smiling as they retreated, as if he would not fight them. They had seen him too often without conflict.

  Maybe they were not that smart after all.

  [Combat 12 ^^^^]

  When his blade dropped the first wolf, the impact sang up through his arm. Steel cut clean through muscle and bone. The rest of the wolves turned on him. Benjera felt them through [Resonance] as bodies and snarling teeth.

  Eight against one.

  That might be a fun fight.