The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 170: Infernal Wolf

Chapter 170: Infernal Wolf

The wolf was swollen with infernal energy, straining dangerously close to bursting. Chaotic crackles of mana arced throughout its soul, which was beginning to show signs of fragmentation. Holding my breath, I reached up, tail tensing, and gingerly touched the wolf’s head. A low growl reverberated deep in its throat as its lips curled back, revealing serrated two-inch teeth. Its fur bristled, hardening into long, thin spikes. As the spines dug into my hand, I recoiled, wincing, and the wolf’s eyes narrowed.

The monster bared its teeth and growled again, and I froze, gripped with fear. It lowered its head, but instead of striking, it pushed against my palm until I reluctantly began stroking it again. Its fur softened to silk beneath by bloody fingers, and it whined, eyes closing to slits. After a minute, I tried to crawl away, but a heavy paw on my chest stopped me in my tracks, sending a shudder of pain through my broken body.

It seemed like a monster, but was it actually some sort of dog? Torn between disbelief and the fear it would turn on me, I carefully began examining its soul once more. It was strikingly similar to when my soul shattered beneath the overwhelming weight of the infernal mana generated by an entire city’s worth of death and despair, yet on a much smaller level.

Blurry memories tickled the back of my mind, forming runes and circles I didn’t recognize. As I strained to remember, a dull ache pulsed between my temples, and I groaned, my hand pausing just long enough for the wolf to growl. Slowly, the haze cleared and Elise appeared, accompanied by the oily voice of the Curse Demon. My soul shuddered as it recalled the agony of that day, but I forced myself to embrace the memory, experiencing anew what the pain had suppressed for months.

Lost in the past, I scarcely noticed as my mana stirred, curling out of my soul and flowing into the wolf. Only as it whined, paw quivering against my chest, did I snap out of it, staring at the mass of golden runes entwining the creature’s soul. At first, my mana moved on instinct, but as my memories sharpened, I began to take an active role, carefully adapting the spell.

I groaned, panting softly, as my mana ran dry. Reaching out, I pressed my hand against the wolf’s chest and opened up myself to its soul. Using the methods forced upon me by the Curse Demon, I called to the Infernal Mana polluting the creature, drawing it within myself. The chaotic force jostled and scraped through the scars and fragments of my soul, causing my tail to tremble in pain.

Blinking away tears, I clenched my teeth and cycled the mana through my soul, slowly refining it until I had full mastery of its powers. With my soul filled with mana, I renewed casting until the spell was complete. The wolf squirmed, whining loudly as the runes drew tight around its soul, binding it back together. Slowly, its discomfort faded and its cries fell to soft whimpers.

I sat back and wiped my face, my hand coming away wet with sweat and blood. Seeing the viscous fluids coating my fingers, I used a portion of the purified mana to cast a few Life Dews, washing away the filth from my skin. The Life Magic dripped into my wounds, leaving them itching with cleansing tingles.

My pain gradually subsided, allowing me to concentrate on the next phase of my work. Although the wolf’s soul had been repaired, the Infernal Mana had already begun breaking it apart again. I laid my hand on its chest, closing my eyes and feeling the palpating pulse of the corruption racing through its veins. I’d been able to purify the demonic energy in my own soul through the delicate mastery of my own mana, but doing it in another creature felt all but impossible.

The wolf remained shallowly panting on the ground, allowing me to study it for a time. Its pain should have disappeared by now, but it seemed content with relaxing under my touch, occasionally lifting its head to lick my hand.

The deformation caused by the Infernal Mana felt strangely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. The wolf’s body and soul had been transformed, taking on demonic attributes not unlike scarring. Even if I successfully managed to purge the chaos from its soul, I doubted whether its body would ever recover.

After familiarizing myself with the currents of its soul, I took a deep breath and sat back. As I’d suspected, managing the mana in another’s soul was far beyond my current knowledge and experience. But, following some experimentation, I came up with the foundations of a third-circle spell based on the elementary principles of Link Ability. However, instead of sharing abilities, I created a channel capable of carrying mana directly between our souls.

I gasped the moment our souls resonated, feeling an intimate connection far beyond that of the slave crest. The wolf’s presence hovered on the edge of my consciousness, brushing so close snippets of its life bled into my memories. I saw its mother, the blood of its first kill, its pack, and then a large blue circle in the sky that could only be the Demon Gate. After that, there was only darkness and pain, sensations so familiar I couldn’t distinguish them from my own. The longer our souls were linked, the more my identity began to blur.

Before my mind slipped away from me forever, I terminated the spell, falling back, my chest heaving. The wolf stared at me, its eyes never leaving my own. Had it seen of me what I did of it? Could an animal even comprehend the complex thoughts and experiences of a human mind?

Pushing away the thoughts, I reviewed the spell, finding several places I’d been careless. Spells manipulating the soul always had built-in safeguards to prevent something like this from happening, but I’d overlooked their importance.

Several revisions later, I managed to successfully cast the spell with the new safeguards in place. I drew Infernal Mana through the channel in a constant stream, purifying it in my soul and then cycling it back to the wolf. Once stripped from the mana, the Infernal taint coalesced into a thick miasma, which was then identified as a curse and destroyed by Adaptive Resistance.

The entire process took almost half an hour, during which the sounds of the battle began to die off. By the time I finished, I was completely drained, lying slumped over the wolf, my arms wrapped weakly around its neck. I closed my eyes, burying my face in its fur and inhaling its warm, earthy scent.

A several long, peaceful breaths, the wolf shifted, slowly rising to its feet. Its ears rose, swiveling toward the grove of trees, and gently eased me off its neck and onto the ground. I stared up at the stars, unable to turn my head to watch it, but the rustle of its paws against the grass receded away from the camp.

A moment later, Jackal’s voice echoed out of the trees. "I found her!"

More voices rose behind him as his worried face appeared above me. I groaned, shifting as his arms curled beneath my thin body, lifting me off the ground.

"Call a healer!" he cried, cradling me to his chest.

As he carried me back to the camp, I turned my head, catching sight of a pair of glowing eyes deep in the woods, watching our departure. A moment later, they were gone, vanished into the night.

"What happened to you?" Jackal asked worriedly.

"I’m fine," I whispered weakly, "Is everyone else alright?"

"You’re not fine," he snapped. I flinched at the sharpness in his voice, and his face softened, eyes flashing guilty. "I’m sorry, but you’re in no condition to say something like that. Because of you, everyone’s alive. I only wish we could have found you sooner. We thought you died!"

Just as I was about to protest, A violent cough ripped out of my lungs, and I hacked up another mouthful of blood. I groaned, growing dizzy, as another wave of pain tore through me. I’d been fine lying on the ground, but all the movement seemed to aggravate my wounds.

"See? Just be still. Your injuries are bad, but you’ll be fine if we get them treated. But why the hell did you take that risk? Looking at you now, there’s no way stopping that spell should have been possible. The other mages said nothing short of a sixth-circle barrier would have protected the entire army as you did, but you’re only fourth level!"

"Maybe you’re right," I muttered, eyebrows scrunching at the metallic taste of blood. It was something I tasted far too much but had never gotten used to.

The camp looked as though it had been devastated by a hurricane. Tents, poles, and corpses were scattered across the bloodstained ground, landing in heaps wherever the shockwave deposited them. There were burns, claw marks, and bruises inflicting all the soldiers, but amongst the two hundred of the Last Light Company, only a handful were critically injured, with even fewer losing their lives in the battle. As Jackal carried me in their midst, they crowded around, their hands extended and grizzled faces bright with gratitude. A few growls from the vice-captain bought a bit of space around us, but it wasn’t until a shouting Captain Bethiv shoved through their ranks did they truly back away.

"Xiviyah! Damn it!" he cried, grabbing the collar of a nearby mercenary. "Get me Rebecca!"

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