The three of them moved deeper into the forest of deadwood.
Here, silence wasn’t just the absence of sound—it was a presence in itself, heavy and complete, pressing against the ears. The air slled of rot and minerals, dry as bone dust.
Luciel walked ahead, his senses stretched outward like invisible threads, brushing against bark, soil, and faint tremors of energy. No signs of life. Not a rustle, not a breath.
He slowed his pace and spoke without turning. "Earlier, you said the reason these trees died is one of your adventure hunters’ goals?"
"Yes." Alina’s voice was soft, almost reverent. "It’s one of the greatest mysteries. Many legendary hunters have tried to find out why the Deadwood exists."
Luciel tilted his head. "And have they found anything?"
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Nothing certain. So think it’s the rain—the acid rain that falls from the sky. No one can investigate further."
She lifted her gaze. The gray sky above was a flat, endless lid. The light that filtered through it wasn’t light at all but a weary imitation of day.
"No one’s ever been beyond the clouds," she murmured. "Sotis I dream of it. The books say the sky used to be blue, and the sun warm, and clouds were white and soft."
Luciel followed her gaze. His expression didn’t change, but his thoughts wandered.
Acid rain... pollution... He’d seen sothing similar before, in another world, another ti. But this wasteland didn’t obey the laws he once knew. There was a strangeness here that science could only grasp at the edges of.
He sighed and shook his head. "Forget it. The answer isn’t up there today."
He turned toward Alina again. "Tell about sothing else. This ’underground world’ you ntioned—what is it?"
At once her eyes lit up. "That one, I know well!" she said, her earlier lancholy replaced by excitent. She waved her hands animatedly as she spoke.
"Legend says there’s an entire world beneath our feet. A place where humans still live—peaceful, self-sufficient, surrounded by living plants and animals. They don’t fight the wasteland like we do. So say they have sunlight of their own, and rivers that never run dry."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "And you believe that?"
Alina grinned sheepishly. "Well... it’s in the adventure journals. Supposedly, there are tunnels connecting their world to ours. The beasts we hunt—so claim they co from down there."
Luciel frowned. "You an... the beasts climb up here?"
Alina lowered her voice, as though afraid the dead trees might overhear. "So say the underground people send them up. Gifts, or maybe sacrifices, to the surface."
Elara snorted. "And we’re supposed to believe that? They must be very generous neighbors."
"I didn’t say I believe it," Alina said quickly, waving her hands. "It’s just what the books say."
Luciel’s expression softened. Books and rumors. Half-truths and dreams. But even so, sothing about it stirred his curiosity.
An underground civilization. Beasts that climb upward. The notion brushed against sothing in him—a mory of cities built in caverns, of light blooming like crystal fire.
"Underground world..." he murmured. "There’s too little to go on."
Elara caught the thoughtful look in his eyes and frowned slightly. "Don’t tell you’re planning to go looking for it."
Luciel smiled faintly. "Not yet."
He was interested, yes—but not in fairy tales. He was thinking of resources, of rare minerals and creatures, of the chance to uncover lost knowledge.
"Anyway," Alina said brightly, breaking the tension. "When I publish my adventure notes, I’ll make sure to include you and the Black Tortoise. People will talk about the ’Moving City’—that’ll make a legend."
Luciel chuckled. "Then you’d better write well."
"I will!" She clenched her small fists in determination. "Give ten years, and I’ll be a legendary hunter myself."
Luciel opened his mouth, then thought better of it. In ten years, Black Tortoise will already be legend enough, he thought.
Before he could say more, a faint sound rolled through the stillness.
"Wooo..."
A low, ragged whimper—almost too soft to notice, yet Luciel stopped instantly. He tilted his head, nostrils flaring.
Blood.
Elara had been watching him. "What is it?" she asked quietly.
"There’s a wounded beast nearby." His tone was calm, but the air around him shifted, sharp with alertness. He pointed north. "That way."
Before the others could reply, Elara vanished into invisibility, her armor bending the light around her. "I’ll scout ahead."
"I’m coming too!" Alina said, flickering and disappearing as well.
Luciel smiled faintly and leapt into motion. His body blurred, shadows trailing behind him. He moved lightly, stepping over roots and fallen branches without a sound. In a breath, he overtook both won.
The scent grew stronger—iron and fur.
They broke into a clearing.
A massive gray-white wolf lay there, three ters from nose to tail, its flank matted with blood. Deep gashes scored its neck and hind legs. When it saw them, it bared its teeth weakly, a guttural snarl bubbling from its throat.
"Ming..."
"It’s a moon wolf," Elara said softly, reappearing beside him. Her eyes widened. "And a large one."
Alina crouched nearby. "It looks like an outcast. Maybe it lost a fight."
Luciel knelt beside the creature, studying its pelt. Under the gri, faint motes of white light shimred between the hairs. He rembered the pack he’d seen before—the way they’d glowed faintly under the moonlight.
"Probably fought for dominance," Alina murmured. "Lost, and got cast out."
The wolf growled weakly as she reached forward and—recklessly—prodded its ear with a fingertip.
"Elara sighed. "If you’re done poking death, shall we take it for the hide? That pelt could make a fine coat."
Luciel shook his head. "No. This one’s useful to ."
He looked into the beast’s eyes and saw sothing there—pain, yes, but also defiance. It wasn’t begging for rcy; it was daring him to end it.
He laid a hand on its skull. The air pulsed faintly.
"System," he whispered. "Dosticate."
A chanical chi echoed in his mind.
> Ding! Level 3 Moon Wolf detected. Ten training points deducted.
Dostication successful.
Luciel’s lips curved slightly. "Good."
Then, quietly: "Evolve it. Fifth tier."
> Ding! Evolving Level 3 Moon Wolf to Level 5. Deducting eleven thousand evolution points.
Evolution complete.
The change was imdiate.
Light burst from beneath the wolf’s skin, rippling through its body. The air humd. Muscles tightened, bones groaned, and its fra swelled, stretching from three ters to nearly five. The dull gray of its fur bled away, replaced by a coat of radiant white that shimred faintly like frost beneath moonlight.
The wolf lifted its head and howled—a sound so fierce and resonant that the dead trees shivered.
"Ooooooo!"
Luciel stepped back, shielding his face from the wind that followed.
When the wolf fell silent, its new eyes—icy sapphire blue—glimred with renewed life.
"That," Luciel murmured, "is a proper wolf king."
He reached forward, brushing his hand through the wolf’s mane. It was thick and soft as fresh snow. "You’ll make a fine mount."
The Moon Wolf turned its head, fixing Alina with a cold glare.
The girl froze. "Oh no..."
The wolf’s gaze didn’t waver.
"Why’s it looking at like that?"
"Because," Elara said, lips twitching, "you poked it."
Alina’s face went red. She shrank behind Elara’s armored shoulder. "That was before! It was dying!"
Luciel chuckled quietly. He tugged playfully at the wolf’s fur. "Don’t hold grudges, my friend."
The wolf rumbled—a deep, chesty sound—and pressed its massive head against Luciel’s shoulder in a gesture that was sowhere between affection and irritation.
"Good," Luciel said. "Now, how did you get hurt?"
The wolf tilted its head and made a throaty sound, as though answering.
Luciel smiled faintly. "Attacked by your own kind, weren’t you? Challenged for the throne."
The wolf let out a low growl that might have been agreent.
"Well," Luciel said, "then you’re unlucky—and lucky. You lost your pack, but you found ."
The wolf’s ears twitched. It dipped its head, almost in a bow.
Luciel felt the faint ripple of new power stir within him—the inherited talent of his companion.
> Ding! Talent ’Moonlight Change’ acquired and adapted.
Warmth spread briefly through his chest, then faded. He could feel the ability there, coiled and waiting.
He turned to the wolf. "Can you show ?"
The wolf looked toward the sky, then shook its head.
Luciel blinked. "Only at night?"
The wolf huffed.
Luciel chuckled. "A nocturnal gift, then. We’ll test it later."
The wolf whined softly, then turned, glancing toward the forest.
"You want to go back?" Luciel asked. "To take revenge?"
Its silence was answer enough.
Luciel smiled, his tone turning almost teasing. "Then go. Take back what’s yours. When you’ve done that, bring your pack to ."
He scratched the great beast’s chin, his voice low but clear. "I’ll be waiting."
The wolf’s blue eyes glead with intelligence. It bowed its head once, then reared up, lifting its muzzle to the sky.
A final, thunderous howl tore through the air.
Then the Moon Wolf King leapt away, a streak of white light vanishing into the forest, faster than wind.
---
For a mont, only silence remained.
Alina peeked out from behind Elara’s shoulder. "Did we... just give away a level-five beast?"
Luciel smirked. "Think of it as an investnt. He’ll co back—with his pack."
Elara exhaled softly. "And when he does?"
"Then," Luciel said, looking toward the distance where the wolf had vanished, "we’ll have a mount—and an army."
The wind stirred the gray forest once more, carrying with it the faint echo of a howl that sounded almost like a promise.
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