Chapter Thirteen: Thief Wolfen, Part Two

The wound Roy had inflicted gave Ren just enough confidence to steady his breathing.

(Should I be glad it’s injured, or terrified that it caught me so easily despite the injury?)

Either way, a wounded enemy was better than an uninjured one.

Sweat ran down Ren’s cheek as his tense expression eased by the smallest degree.

(It has no intention of letting me leave.)

The moment he carelessly turned his back, the Thief Wolfen would take his life.

Ren swung the Wooden Magic Sword. Roots erupted beneath the monster as it tried to close the distance. He swept the blade toward the surrounding trees as well, producing vines that tangled into a complicated barrier.

“Graaah!”

The Thief Wolfen snarled when Ren went on the offensive.

The distance between them had not changed, but the sudden roots and vines clearly irritated it.

Despite favoring its injured foreleg, the monster sprang forward with unbelievable speed. Wind magic sliced apart the vines as it advanced.

“Gruah!”

It raised a forelimb tipped with vicious claws and slashed down at Ren.

“At least give me time to think of my next move!”

Ren shouted in frustration and raised a wall of roots just before the claws reached him.

Crack!

The roots shattered with a dry report.

He had expected as much, yet a chill still passed across his neck.

(My only weapon is the Wooden Magic Sword. How am I supposed to fight this thing?)

Ren continued using roots and vines to maintain distance.

He could not keep doing so indefinitely. Once his mana ran dry, he would lose consciousness. He had little time to waste on a prolonged defense.

(Wait–the elf!)

He remembered an elf he had fought in Legend of the Seven Heroes I.

That battle had also taken place in a forest. The terrain and the elf’s obstructive nature magic had made the encounter extremely difficult when Ren first played it.

He could imitate the same tactics.

His Nature Magic was only Minor, however, and could produce nothing but roots and vines.

“That doesn’t mean I can give up!”

For one brief instant, the roots and vines captured the Thief Wolfen’s limbs.

“Grr!?”

Ren charged forward. At the only opening he was likely to receive, he raised the Wooden Magic Sword and brought it down with all his strength on the monster’s skull.

“How can anything be this hard!?”

The impact numbed his hands.

The Thief Wolfen shrieked in pain, but the fury in its six eyes had not diminished. Its entire body trembled with rage.

Ren thought he might manage one more strike.

He began to raise the Wooden Magic Sword again–and the blade shattered above the hilt.

“What!?”

The roots and vines around them vanished almost at the same moment.

Magic sword or not, the weapon was still made of wood. The impact had broken it.

(Calm down. I should be able to summon it again.)

It was a weapon created by a skill. Surely it could be restored.

Ren focused on summoning it as usual. The Wooden Magic Sword reappeared easily, but a sharp headache flashed through his skull.

(Was that because I resummoned a destroyed sword?)

The mana cost was far greater than normal.

It was useful information, but he could hardly celebrate learning it now.

Nor did the Thief Wolfen give him time to recover while the sword was broken.

“GROOOOAR!”

Fortunately, the blow to its head still affected it. Although wind magic freed it from the remaining restraints, its charge was slightly slower than before.

“Ghh…”

Ren threw himself sideways.

He rolled across the ground, getting damp soil in his mouth. He spat it out, scrambled upright, and readied the Wooden Magic Sword while struggling for breath.

(What if I repeat that attack?)

He could wait for another opening, strike the skull, and continue until he inflicted enough damage to defeat the monster–or at least escape.

But there was a fatal problem.

(I would collapse first.)

Producing roots and vines already consumed a great deal of mana. Repeatedly destroying and resummoning the Wooden Magic Sword would be impossible.

Even as he considered it, the Thief Wolfen’s wind magic closed in. Ren abandoned the idea.

“Grah! Graaaah!”

“Damn it…!”

“Grrr–GRAAAH!”

Driven by rage, the Thief Wolfen attacked again.

Ren defended himself over and over with the Wooden Magic Sword.

He did not know how many minutes passed.

At last, his exhausted body swayed. His foot caught on the remains of roots and vines he had created. He tried to brace himself, but his muscles refused to obey.

“GROOOAR!”

The Thief Wolfen charged like a gale and sank its fangs into Ren’s exposed side.

“Gah…!”

The teeth pierced his leather armor as though it were cloth and tore into the child’s flesh beneath.

Physical Ability Boost (Minor) gave Ren just enough strength to twist away before the monster ripped out a piece of his body.

Even so, the wound was deep.

The Thief Wolfen’s momentum carried it into a tree behind him. Ren clutched his side and thought desperately.

(Use the herbs–no.)

Cold sweat covered him from the pain, but he did not know whether he had gathered more than Roy required. His father came first.

The situation was desperate. He needed a decisive weapon.

His vision began to fade at the edges.

“Grrr… grah…”

Ren gritted his teeth and refused to look away as the Thief Wolfen turned back toward him.

His gaze fell on the bracelet while he searched frantically for any possible answer.

Then one line caught his eye.

– Wooden Magic Sword (Level 1: 97/100)

That was the number he had seen while returning to the manor that afternoon.

The next entry made him gasp.

– Iron Magic Sword (Unlock conditions: Magic Sword Summoning Technique Level 2 and Wooden Magic Sword Level 2)

He was only three proficiency points away from satisfying the final condition.

Three Little Boars. He needed to absorb the magic stones of three more Little Boars.

(If only there were some nearby–wait!)

He had killed exactly three less than twenty minutes earlier.

The terrified Little Boars had attacked him just after he descended Tsurugi Rock. At the time, he had been too hurried to absorb their stones.

“Going all the way back to Tsurugi Rock from here…”

“GRAAAH!”

“I don’t have time to hesitate!”

Ren was bleeding heavily, and his mana was far from full.

He cast aside every doubt and swung the Wooden Magic Sword with the strength he had left. Vines surrounded the Thief Wolfen, whose movements were already dulled by Roy’s wound and Ren’s strike to the skull.

Then Ren ran toward Tsurugi Rock.

Sweat flowed into his eyes. He pressed a hand against his throbbing, burning side and forced his legs onward.

He stared only at the path ahead. Though he could hear the Thief Wolfen pursuing him, he never stopped.

“Hah… hah… Stay back…!”

Again and again, Ren created vines behind him to slow the monster.

His body grew increasingly heavy. He did not know whether blood loss or mana exhaustion was responsible, but neither possibility was good.

Then the trees opened.

The lake appeared, with Tsurugi Rock rising from its center.

“There!”

The three Little Boars lay where he had left them.

“Grah! GRRRAAAH!”

Ren could produce fewer vines with every attempt. His restraints had become weak and crude.

The Thief Wolfen was also slowing, burdened by Roy’s wound and the blow Ren had dealt its head.

It was still gaining on him.

Furious, the monster rushed from behind.

“Ghh…”

A violent current of air grazed Ren’s cheek. Pain followed, twisting his face.

It was close–so close that turning around might put him directly between its jaws.

“I won’t lose!”

Ren burst from the forest and onto the grass.

Without looking back, he swung the Wooden Magic Sword behind himself. Vines surged from the ground, and he poured the last of his strength into restraining the Thief Wolfen.

He reached the carcasses before its fangs reached him.

Ren thrust out the arm bearing the bracelet.

“Reach!”

The first magic stone answered.

Then the second.

When the third stone’s power flowed into the bracelet, the crystal set within it glowed faintly.

Ren forced his blurring eyes to read the new entry.

– Iron Magic Sword (Level 1: 0/1000)

Its sharpness increases as its level rises.

There was no special power. Ren could only pray that it was sharper than an ordinary sword.

“Grooo…”

The monster was almost upon him.

Ren spun around and hurled the Wooden Magic Sword.

“Thief Wolfen!”

The monster avoided the weapon just before it struck its forehead. The sword landed behind its four tails.

“GRAAAAAAAAAH!”

The enraged Thief Wolfen bared its fangs and lowered itself to tear out Ren’s throat. Starlight gleamed on the claws of its raised forelimbs.

Vines erupted from the discarded Wooden Magic Sword behind it and wrapped around its upper body.

Even bound, the monster forced its murderous jaws toward Ren.

“This is everything I have–“

Ren met it with eyes just as fierce.

The Wooden Magic Sword vanished. Empty space beside Ren cracked open, and a new weapon emerged–a magic sword of dark iron from hilt to point.

The vines disappeared a moment later. The Thief Wolfen faltered at the sudden return of its freedom.

Ren seized that instant.

He held the Iron Magic Sword low, its point angled upward.

“My last bit of strength!”

Without flinching, he drove the blade through the monster’s open jaws.

The point pierced the Thief Wolfen’s hard skull from within. It emerged through the top of its head, dripping blood into the night wind.

“Ga… ah…”

The white wolf gave a weak cry.

The light faded from its six eyes. Its lids closed, and its enormous body sank quietly to the ground.

At the same time, Ren felt the power of its magic stone flow into his bracelet.

“I did it…”

His own body collapsed beside it.

His vision blurred. Everything he could see darkened until it was almost indistinguishable from the night.

“The herbs… I have to give them to Father…”

Using the Iron Magic Sword as a cane, Ren tried to stand. His body refused to move, and he fell again.

The Iron Magic Sword disappeared. The bracelet vanished with it.

Face-down on the ground, Ren slowly closed his eyes.

His final whisper was an apology.

“Father… Mother… I’m sorry.”

* * * *

Within minutes, hoofbeats rang around Tsurugi Rock.

“The howl came from this direction–C-Captain!”

“What is it?”

“Look by the lake! I see the monster we were pursuing and… is that a boy?”

The arriving riders were knights of House Clausel.

They rushed to the fallen Ren and the dead Thief Wolfen beside him, then dismounted as one.

Their captain knelt, lifted Ren’s body, and stared in astonishment.

“Surely… you did not defeat the Thief Wolfen?”

“How could this happen…?”

“No child this young could accomplish such a thing! But judging by the scene…”

Amazement, disbelief, shock–every knight struggled for words.

Then the captain noticed the blood pouring from Ren’s side.

“Don’t you dare die.”

He pulled a small bottle from his coat and poured its contents over the wound. After lifting Ren onto his horse, he noticed medicinal plants spill from the boy’s clothing.

“Is this Londo Grass?”

“Captain, then…”

“Yes. This must be the Ashton family’s only son. Something has likely happened to his father. The boy entered the forest alone in search of this herb.”

“Then our early arrival was worthwhile after all.”

“It seems so. Someone transport the Thief Wolfen’s carcass! The rest of us will take this child to the Ashton manor immediately!”

Hoofbeats thundered once more.

The sound echoed through the normally quiet village, drawing steadily closer to the Ashton manor. The horses left the forest, crossed the bridge, and raced along the field road until the house appeared.

“Hold on, boy. We’re nearly there.”

The captain’s horse stopped before the manor.

“We are knights of House Clausel! Is anyone there?”

He dismounted and carefully lowered Ren into his arms.

Mireille burst from the manor, her face drawn with desperation.

“You are–R-Ren!?”

“Forgive the lack of formal greetings, but there is no time. Take us to his room!”

“Y-yes! This way!”

The knights carried Ren to his room and began treating him immediately.

They had been trained to tend injuries sustained in battle. Because Mireille would only hinder them, she was sent into the corridor, where she stood in a daze.

The captain approached her.

“Why would Ren… When did he leave the manor…?”

“Forgive the blunt question, my lady, but has something happened to Lord Ashton?”

“Yes. My husband’s condition suddenly worsened.”

The captain had expected as much.

He reached into his coat and produced the Londo Grass.

“Take this. Your son risked his life to obtain it.”

“L-Londo Grass? How…?”

“We arrived earlier than scheduled and found your son collapsed in the forest, guarding these herbs as though they were precious. The Thief Wolfen lay dead beside him.”

Mireille understood everything and broke down in tears.

Her legs nearly gave way, but the captain’s next words held her upright.

“My lady, do not allow your son’s determination to go to waste.”

Mireille looked toward the closed door behind which Ren was being treated and bit her lip.

Then she turned away, clutching the herbs.

“Mother will be right back, Ren.”

With those words, she hurried to Roy, who desperately needed the Londo Grass.

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