Chapter 11: A Deal

Chapter 11: A Deal

Gerald had been having a good day. Brandon, one of the more seasoned team leaders for the lower-grade Hunters in the Iron Legion Guild, put up a notice to clear a beginner dungeon listed as being at risk of a dungeon rush.

Which was good news all around.

The government paid more credits for the clear, and there were bound to be far more monsters than usual to hunt and loot, meaning less time wasted wandering the empty tunnels for prey.

So when had it gone so wrong? Maybe it was partially his fault for lying about possessing a Mana Regeneration skill on his application, but he hadn't expected Brandon to taunt the wolves into activating [Pack Call]. Even with the boss's Iron Aura skill, which protected him from dying to a stray claw, it was inevitable that he would run out of mana before every wolf on the entire floor was killed.

Regrets had swirled in his mind as the wolves tore at his body, wreathing their claws and fangs in mana to dig through the Iron Aura and bite deep into his exhausted flesh. However, he was now wondering if the mana deprivation and fatal wounds shutting down his organs were making him hallucinate a talking wolf.

He heard soft growls from the blonde-furred wolf that were somehow being translated into words he could understand.

"I wonder what I should do with you," the wolf said as it sniffed at him, and Gerald felt drool leaking onto his cheek. It made him shiver.

Gerald's vision was blurred due to his mana deprivation, and the dungeon's dim lighting wasn't doing him any favors, but as the wolf dominated his vision, he couldn't help but notice just how different it was from any wolf he had seen before.

Despite its leaner body compared to the two wolves biting at him a moment ago, he could see how much power was hiding in those muscles as the wolf moved. Also, there were spikes of bone poking out of its fur around its neck, and perhaps most notable of all were its empty eyes.

Gerald drew a pained breath and wheezed, "Please... save me." He knew begging a wolf that was practically drooling over him for salvation should be pointless, but this one could talk! Maybe it could be reasoned with?

"Why?" It asked as it slowly trotted around his body. He could hear the dungeon's stone floor scraping under its claws as it shifted its weight to glare at the many approaching wolves. None dared to approach alone.

That was a good question.

Why should it save me? It's a monster, and I am an easy meal. Would it even want the little money I have on me—no, wait, even if it did, it could loot the credits from my cold corpse—shit. What can I offer it while alive?

"Try to survive, human," The wolf told him before he felt his neck snap back and his body lurch forward as the wolf bounded toward the approaching wolves in the opposite direction that Brandon and Aria had fled.

"Wolf, this is the wrong way toward the exit!" Gerald cried out as he was thrown around. If they went deeper into the dungeon, his death was assured as he needed urgent medical attention. Unfortunately, it seemed the wolf didn't hear him or care as it continued its charge. Its large body slammed into a black fur wolf that Gerald estimated was around level 4—the foe's leg snapped with a sickening crunch before sending the poor mutt flying into another wolf like a bowling ball.

What power?! Just what level is this wolf? It's definitely an E grade, maybe even a D grade.

Gerald felt bile rise in his throat as the blonde wolf staggered on its feet as a black fur wolf bit deeply into its side. Weirdly, the blonde wolf didn't seem to react to having a chunk of itself torn out as it kicked the wolf away. Gerald found the reason why a moment later when a sickening stench was the prelude to strands of muscle erupting out of the wound and quickly tangling together to reform what was taken.

He had only seen such rapid regeneration from rare variants of Orcs while browsing videos on his phone on the way to work. How could one wolf be so strange?

The blonde wolf turned its head toward the wolf it had just kicked away. Gerald felt a sinking feeling in his chest, followed by prickling pain as golden mana crackled between the teeth he was firmly held between.

"No wolf! Don't—"

"Holy Smite," The wolf growled, and Gerald felt immense pain before passing out.

Gerald slowly stirred awake with a pounding headache and the lingering smell of something burnt. Blinking away the stars in his eyes, he looked toward a strange hissing sound.

A giant blonde wolf stood over a dead black-furred wolf with dozens of purple tendrils-like tongues emerging from its mouth and dissolving the body.

Gerald gulped and tried to shuffle away his ruined body while the monster was distracted. To his horror, he saw the wolf's ear twitch in tune with his movements—retracting its many tongues, it twisted its head to look straight at him with empty eyes. Blood dyed its fur a deep scarlet, yet Gerald couldn't spot any injuries—either they had all been healed, or the blood was from other wolves.

"Human, you're awake." The wolf growled softly as it began walking over. "That means it's time for you to teach me magic."