Sylverwulf strolled through the clearing, effortlessly weaving between jagged rocks and uneven terrain. The dense forest had finally opened up, revealing a sky so vast and clear that the moonlight bathed everything in a cold silver glow. I, on the other hand, floated beside her, finally free from that cursed jar. It took some pleading and promising to not run away first chance I get to have Sylverwulf release me from the transparent prison. "So," I said. "To summarize, this isn't Earth?" I already knew the answer to that, to be very honest. No chance in hell I was back on Earth after seeing glowing deer and birds that could disappear without a trace. Sylverwulf shook her head. "I've heard of other worlds existing but I've never heard of 'earf' before. Sorry to say, little spirit, but you're not in your original world. This is the Karmic World," "The-what?" Before she could respond, something massive moved in the distance. I turned just in time to see a colossal, serpentine figure slither between the trees, its body so long that it seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness. A trail of dim, golden lights shimmered along its scaled hide, flickering like distant stars, and as it passed through the clearing, the wind itself seemed to bend around it, as if the air refused to disturb its presence. I didn’t even get the chance to fully comprehend what I was looking at before another creature bounded into view—something that looked like a fox, but its body was almost translucent, as if it were made of shifting moonlight. Its sleek form darted between the trees in complete silence, leaving a faint, silvery mist in its wake. Then, just ahead, the forest floor split open. A gnarled tree root, thick enough to be mistaken for a collapsed pillar, slowly unraveled itself from the ground, stretching and twisting as if waking from a deep slumber. The twisted bark shifted, forming what looked eerily like a face before its countless smaller roots curled forward, dragging it deeper into the shadows, vanishing without a sound. I flickered erratically. Sylverwulf, completely unfazed, just kept walking. "What the actual *fuck* was that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Sylverwulf merely scoffed, waving her hand around. "Ah please, this neck of the woods is NOTHING. If you're scared of a few kaijus, you'd shit your pants at the REAL monsters," She was *really* starting to sound way too familiar for my liking. "Wait, kaiju? Like, Godzilla?" Sylverwulf gave me a confused and comical look as she bent down to check the soil. "The hell is that? You're probably thinking of Godera. If not, then I have zero clue what you're talking about.," she scanned the ground with more intent. "Dangit, tracks went cold..." I floated curiously beside her. "What are you looking for? I thought you were going back to your friends," She got up and dusted off her hands. "Well, before I found you glowing oh-so-brightly in the middle of the woods, I was supposed to be *hunting*!" I flickered in curiosity. "Like, for food?" She giggled like a child, reaching into her pocket and pulling out something that made me instantly regret asking. A severed, furry finger. “…Okay, that’s not food." Sylverwulf twirled the dismembered digit between her fingers, clearly amused by my reaction. "Nope. **Monsters.**" The severed finger—if you could even call it that—was too long, too gnarled, covered in coarse, matted fur. The tip was curved into a sharp, blackened claw, cracked and jagged like something that had been used to tear through flesh and bone. I floated in to take a closer look. "This is the finger of the monster you're supposed to be hunting?" "Yeah, durr," Sylverwulf answered, playing with the finger a little bit before putting it back in her pocket. "I was hunting a *Vikanthrope*, take a wild guess what that is," "A monster...?" Sylverwulf gave me the flattest look imaginable. "Wow, really? Never knew!" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "To be fair," I pointed out, "I was just born." "Not an excuse!" she shot back. "Alright, quick biology lesson: What’s the difference between a kaiju and an animal?" I blinked. "You do realize I have zero context for literally anything here, right?" "Not important!" She waved me off before crouching to inspect a bush. "Kaiju are born with karmic energy, while animals are only aware of it. That’s why kaiju are way rarer—and way more dangerous." I hesitated, trying to piece it together. "Wait… karmic energy?" Sylverwulf sighed dramatically, clearly exasperated. "Oh, for the love of—yes, karmic energy! K-A-R-M-I-C energy! How do you not—" She groaned, rubbing her temples. I flickered impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you, but what is it? Are you, like… Buddhist?" She groaned again, louder this time, before tapping me lightly with a clawed finger. "Okay, so, karmic energy is… it’s, uh… something you feel deep inside you, and—" "You have no idea what you’re saying, do you?" "Listen!" She threw up her hands. "I was never the teacher type, alright? Once we get back to basecamp, talk to someone like Traighan—he actually likes explaining this kind of stuff—" VOOM! Everything stopped. A suffocating presence settled over the clearing like a thick, invisible weight. Even without lungs, it felt like I couldn’t take a single breath. Beside me, Sylverwulf went completely still, her ears shooting up, tail bristling as her muscles coiled like a wound spring. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, with a huge grin, she whispered— "Found you." Before I could even react, she bolted. She moved with terrifying speed, covering the distance between us and the trees in the blink of an eye. I barely had time to process what was happening before she launched herself toward something hiding in the shadows—something large, something waiting, something watching. A low, guttural snarl rolled through the trees. The moment I saw it, I knew exactly what Sylverwulf had been tracking. The Vikanthrope stepped forward, emerging from the shadows. It was tall—easily over eight feet—but hunched, its thick, fur-covered body coiled with lean muscle. Unlike a typical werewolf, its limbs were longer than they should be, its claws curved like hooks, its glowing yellow eyes too intelligent to be purely animal. It moved low and precise, each step deliberate, shifting its weight soundlessly despite its size. This wasn’t some mindless beast—this was a predator. A scout, testing its surroundings, waiting for the right moment to strike. And Sylverwulf had just charged straight at it. The Vikanthrope lunged to meet her, claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. She ducked beneath the strike, twisting mid-dash before slamming her foot into its ribs, the impact sending a burst of air through the clearing. The Vikanthrope barely staggered. With a guttural snarl, it retaliated, its hooked claws slicing toward her neck— Sylverwulf vanished. I barely caught it—one second she was there, the next she was behind the monster, flipping effortlessly through the air. She twisted, her silver hair whipping around her, and as she landed— Her piercing blue eyes flashed. The Vikanthrope turned too late. Sylverwulf struck first. Her fist slammed into its ribs with a sickening crack, sending a tremor through the air. The monster’s body barely had time to react before she grabbed it by the furred scruff and ripped it forward, yanking it off balance before driving her knee into its gut. The force sent a burst of spit and blood flying from its mouth, its breath wheezing out in a strangled choke. But she wasn’t done. She twisted, shifting her grip in the same motion, and slammed her elbow into its skull. The impact rattled through its entire body, forcing the creature onto its knees as a deep, guttural snarl gurgled in its throat. Its yellow eyes burned with hatred, but Sylverwulf just tilted her head, her face cold, calculating, and... bored? "You're a slow motherfucker, huh?" she muttered, her ice-cold eyes glowing. "Traighan must've gotten the info wrong, you're no threat," The Vikanthrope's snarl twisted into something deeper, something primal. Blood dripped from its maw as it shook violently, its long, hooked claws carving deep trenches into the earth. Its breath came out in ragged, bubbling growls, but its eyes never left Sylverwulf. It wasn't done yet. Sylverwulf simply sighed, rolling her shoulders as if the whole thing bored her. "You’re not even worth the trouble. Honestly, I was expecting more." The beast lunged. She sidestepped effortlessly, dodging by just inches as the Vikanthrope’s claws ripped through the air where her throat had been. In one swift and graceful motion, Sylverwulf raised her legs a perfect 180 degrees and then she brought her heel down on the back of its skull. Then she slammed her weight down. The crunch of bone shattering was quick. Merciless. Final. The Vikanthrope’s body twitched once, then stilled completely, its massive frame slumped awkwardly against the torn earth. The clearing reeked of blood and damp fur, the metallic scent thick in the cold night air. Sylverwulf spat at it's body. "Good riddance," I had been expecting a fight, yeah. I had known Sylverwulf was strong, sure. But I hadn’t been prepared for that. The way she moved—the sheer violence behind every strike—was beyond human. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement, just raw, overwhelming brutality. Every time she hit the Vikanthrope, it broke. Every time it tried to fight back, she crushed it. Not even her clothes got dirty! Sylverwulf casually walked to me, smiling proudly. "Enjoyed the show, Yuru?" I floated closer, my glow flickering unsteadily. “You—You just—” My voice cracked as I gestured wildly at the mangled corpse. “What the hell was that?!” Sylverwulf turned to me, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “That?” She tilted her head, grinning. “That was me doing my job.” I stared at her, unable to wrap my head around how casual she was being. “You just broke that thing apart like it was made of twigs... you dodged every attack, you didn’t even flinch! A-And you’re not even dirty!” Sylverwulf simply shrugged, as if I had just pointed out the sky was blue. “Of course I didn’t flinch. That thing wasn’t worth the effort.” Her grin faded slightly, and for the first time, her voice carried something colder. “Vikanthropes are parasites. They don’t build, they don’t create, they just take and destroy. The only thing they deserve is a quick death.” The raw hatred in her voice threw me off guard a little bit. I took another peek at the corpse. Not even flies were circling the corpse. "Well, uhm, what now?" Sylverwulf sighed. "Unfortunately, with Vikanthropes, where there is one..." The pressure dropped. I felt it before I heard or saw anything. A weight settled over my form, heavy and suffocating, thick with something vicious. The presence from earlier, the one that had almost crushed me when the first Vikanthrope appeared—this time, it was multiplied. I began to freak out a little, hitting my body against Sylverwulf's shoulder, bouncing off like a rubber ball. "Sylverwulf, there are more! More of them are coming!" She waved me off and began walking towards the bushes in front of us. She wasn't showing a hint of fear or sign of weakness, she just sighed. I know she took one down by herself, but could she could handle multiple? "What are you doing?! Can you really fight multiple of these monsters by yourself?!" Sylverwulf waved a hand behind her dismissively, not even looking back at me. "I'll be *fine*" she said. "Just float right there and watch the best combat you'd ever see," Before I could argue, the bushes ahead rustled violently. Then the trees groaned. The first one emerged slowly, its claws dragging across the dirt as it crept into view. Its matted fur was slick with sweat and filth, its eyes burning with an unnatural glow. Every muscle in its body was coiled with tension, ready to spring forward at the first sign of weakness. The second followed, its hulking form stepping from the shadows with eerie patience. It wasn’t lunging, wasn’t attacking—just watching. Studying. The way its ears twitched, the way its nostrils flared as it sniffed the air, told me it was reading the battlefield. The third Vikanthrope stepped forward, its muscles rippling beneath its thick, matted fur. Its jagged fangs dripped with saliva, each breath coming out in a slow, rattling exhale. The other two shifted beside it, their golden eyes burning with hunger, but they didn’t attack just yet. They were waiting. Studying. Calculating. Sylverwulf, however, looked thrilled. Her lips curled into a sharp grin as she cracked her knuckles, rolling her shoulders with the casual ease of someone **completely unfazed.** Her silver-white hair shifted as the wind picked up, her long ears twitching with anticipation. “You’re all some big boys, huh?” she mused, tapping her chin. Then, with an exaggerated pout, she placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head, her voice dripping with mock concern. “Aww, what’s a small little girl like me supposed to do~?” The Vikanthropes growled, flexing their fingers and analyzing Sylverwulf. I floated back, my glow flickering with pure panic. “Sylverwulf, stop taunting them!” She waved me off without looking, her wolf ears twitching. “They were gonna attack anyway, Yuru. Might as well make ‘em mad first.” And then, without warning, the first one lunged at Sylverwulf. The first Vikanthrope lunged without hesitation, its claws ripping through the air, closing the gap between them in an instant. The force of its movement tore up the earth beneath it, sending dirt and leaves scattering in every direction. It wasn’t aiming for an opening—it was aiming to overwhelm. And then, just before impact—Sylverwulf vanished. Sylverwulf disappeared from sight in an instant, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in her wake. The Vikanthrope's claws ripped through empty air, its momentum carrying it forward as it snarled in confusion, its glowing eyes flickering from side to side in search of its target. The other two Vikanthropes shifted uneasily, their ears twitching, their claws flexing as they readied themselves for whatever came next. A sudden burst of movement—Sylverwulf reappeared above them. Her body twisted midair, silver-white hair flowing behind her like a whip as she dropped down feet-first onto the back of the Vikanthrope that had lunged first. The sheer force of her impact sent a deafening crack through the clearing, and the beast buckled beneath her, its knees shattering against the ground. A strangled howl ripped from its throat, but before it could even process the pain, Sylverwulf grabbed it by the scruff of its fur and hurled it into the second one. The two beasts collided violently, their bodies slamming into the earth with a force that rattled the trees around us. The third Vikanthrope, the largest of the three, took the opportunity to strike. Its hooked claws gleamed under the moonlight as it lunged toward Sylverwulf’s exposed side. But she didn’t dodge this time. Instead, she turned just in time to meet the attack, her sharp blue eyes flashing with something wild and eager. A burst of blue flame ignited around her fist. She caught the Vikanthrope’s wrist mid-swing, her fingers closing like an iron vice around its furred limb. The creature froze instantly, and for the first time, its snarl faltered—its body instinctively trying to pull away from the flames licking at its skin. Sylverwulf’s grin widened. "What’s wrong? Scared of a little heat?" Before the beast could react, she wrenched its arm to the side with a sharp twist—ripping the shoulder joint clean out of its socket. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the clearing. The beast collapsed, writhing and snarling as it clutched its ruined arm. The other two Vikanthropes had barely recovered from the earlier attack, but now they hesitated, their ears flattened against their skulls, their eyes flickering with something dangerously close to fear. She **flung the severed limb aside**, sending it tumbling into the dirt like discarded trash before rolling her shoulders, shaking the tension from her muscles as if none of this had required any effort at all. "Aww, poor puppy doesn't wanna play with fire anymore?" I had been watching the fight, floating slightly above the battlefield, my glow unsteady as I tried to process what I was seeing. I had already known she was dangerous, but this? This was different. She looked untouchable. The Vikanthropes, despite their size, their power, their sheer animalistic rage, couldn’t even land a single hit on her. Sylverwulf exhaled sharply, blue flames curling lazily around her fingers as she stared at the remaining two Vikanthropes. The amusement was gone from her face now, her usual cocky grin replaced with something colder. "You guys done yet?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "It's getting really boring beating the shit out of you," The two uninjured Vikanthropes snarled, but their movements had changed. They weren’t attacking recklessly anymore. They were circling her now, moving slower, more deliberate. Their claws flexed, their bodies low to the ground, their golden eyes flickering between her and their wounded packmate, as if weighing their options. A heavy, suffocating weight settled over the clearing, pressing into my core like thick iron chains. It was different from before—not just one presence, or even multiple, it was a whole legion. The pressure was so disgusting that it made me flicker erratically as I recoiled on instinct. "Sylverwulf, I think there's more coming. Way more!" Sylverwulf sighed. "Should’ve figured," she muttered under her breath. The bushes trembled. The trees groaned under the weight of something lurking just beyond the darkness. Then the first set of glowing yellow eyes appeared. Then another. And another. One by one, more Vikanthropes stepped into the clearing. I stopped counting at ten. They moved in perfect silence, their bodies tense, their long, hooked claws glinting under the pale moonlight. There was no rush, no reckless aggression like before. They didn’t need to be reckless anymore. They had the advantage now. I floated backward, my core pulsing erratically, unable to tear my eyes away from the sheer number of them. "Sylverwulf—" "I know," she said calmly, cracking her neck. Despite being surrounded, despite the fact that we were now completely outnumbered, she wasn’t nervous. She was excited. Sylverwulf’s tail flicked once, her ears perking up as her lips curled into something between a grin and a snarl. Blue flames flared around her fists, brighter this time, casting flickering shadows across the bloodstained grass. She shifted her stance slightly, lowering her center of gravity, her sharp blue eyes scanning the advancing pack with predatory precision. "I was just starting to have fun," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Then the first one lunged. The others followed. The clearing exploded into chaos. Sylverwulf moved first. She ducked low, narrowly avoiding a set of claws that carved through the air where her neck had been a second ago. Her body twisted sharply, one foot planting itself into the dirt as she drove her fist into the nearest Vikanthrope’s gut. A burst of blue fire ignited on impact, the creature’s howl of pain barely leaving its throat before she followed up with a sharp, brutal uppercut to its jaw. The force of the blow sent the beast airborne, its body twisting violently before it crashed into the ground several feet away. Another lunged from her blind spot. She turned on her heel mid-dodge, using the momentum to drive her elbow into the side of its skull, sending it careening sideways. Another tried to grab her from behind, but before it could even lay a claw on her, she backflipped over its shoulders, gripping its ears mid-air before using its own momentum to slam it face-first into the dirt. I couldn’t even process how fast she was moving. She wasn’t thinking. She wasn’t calculating. She was **reacting.** Perfect reaction time, perfect hand-to-hand combat, insane battle prowess. She was a super soldier with white hair. But I barely had time to be impressed, because the moment I stopped paying attention to myself—one of them noticed me. Its head snapped in my direction. I barely had time to process it before it was already moving, its massive body launching itself toward me with terrifying speed. Sylverwulf, after slapping a Vikanthrope in the face, saw one coming towards me and she screamed- "Yuru, DODGE!" I couldn’t dodge. The moment Sylverwulf’s voice ripped through the battlefield, I tried to move, tried to react, tried to do anything, but the Vikanthrope was already too close. It was like staring down an oncoming train. Its claws, long and jagged, stretched forward, reaching for me with terrifying precision. Its massive jaws parted, saliva dripping from its fangs, its golden eyes locked onto me with a singular, predatory focus. It was trying to eat me. I tried to float back, tried to will myself away, but the weight of the creature’s presence paralyzed me. It was the same suffocating, bone-crushing force that had pressed against me earlier—but now, it was inescapable. Panic washed over me as I racked my brain for any way to save myself. As I searched harder and harder, that familiar energy that I had focused on when I first woke up in this world began to bubble faintly. That's it! It was like I was praying to my own energy. I latched onto that power, clinging to it like a drowning man grasping a lifeline. I focused everything—every last thought, every ounce of willpower, every piece of my existence—on one thing. Protection. It didn’t rise slowly, didn’t creep or build like a gradual tide—it erupted. A pulse of raw, blinding white exploded from my core, expanding outward faster than I could process. In the span of half of a second, the formless energy solidified into white, translucent barrier the size of a whiteboard. The Vikanthrope never stood a chance. It slammed into the barrier at full speed, its claws outstretched, fangs bared, only to be met with an immovable wall of force. A sound like shattering glass and thunder colliding at once tore through the clearing as the beast’s momentum was reversed so violently that the air itself seemed to snap around it. The impact sent ripples of kinetic energy through the ground, uprooting dirt and snapping branches as the monster was launched backward, crashing into a tree with such force that the trunk split down the middle. The creature crumpled, its body twitching, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. The other Vikanthropes remained frozen, looking at each other with disbelief. And I swear one of them shrugged. Sylverwulf stared me in comical awe, pointing to me with wide eyes. "C-Could you always do that?" I bobbed around, realizing what I had just did. "I...I-I don't know! It just happened..." I stammered. "I just-" Sylverwulf cut me off. "Doesn't matter how you did it, keep doing it! More of em are comin'..." Sylverwulf barely gave me time to process before she smacked me on the side like I was some kind of malfunctioning lightbulb. "Come on, come on! Charge it up again, Yuru!" I flickered violently, my form wobbling from the impact. "I DON’T KNOW HOW!" Sylverwulf groaned, gripping the sides of her head. "Oh my god. Are you telling me you accidentally pulled off the most badass thing I’ve ever seen and you can’t repeat it?! What kind of bull—" Before she could finish, the Vikanthropes finally snapped out of their shock. A low, guttural growl rolled through the clearing, and just like that, the tension returned tenfold. The ones still standing shifted their weight, their movements more measured now—still predatory, but no longer reckless. Sylverwulf's playful demeanor flickered, just for a second. She glanced toward the trees, her ears twitching, nose subtly flaring as she sniffed the air. Then, her grin came back, but it wasn’t her usual smug smirk—it was sharper. Hungrier. "Yeah... more of ‘em, alright." She cracked her neck, shaking out her wrists. "Hope you're ready for round two, Yuru." I flickered weakly. "I barely survived round one." She clapped her hands together, sending a harmless puff of blue fire flickering between her palms. "Eh, don't sweat it. Just do that freaky barrier thing again, and we should be fine!" "I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO IT ON COMMAND!" "Well, figure it out, genius!" I was screwed. And as the air grew even heavier, the weight of an even stronger presence pressing down on us, I had a terrible feeling that things were about to get so much worse. Sylverwulf had already lunged back into combat, her navy-blue flames flickering wildly around her hands as she weaved between the remaining Vikanthropes. They were hesitating now, wary of the thing that had effortlessly shattered their packmate’s skull. Sylverwulf was having fun. The same couldn’t be said for me. I barely had a second to breathe before the next two Vikanthropes turned their attention toward me. Their claws flexed. Their ears flattened. Their movements were slow and deliberate now. They had seen me send one of their packmates flying, and now I was just as big of a threat to them as Sylverwulf. _Shit… what do I do now?_ Before I could even think of an answer, a voice rang out—smooth, calm, and completely unfazed. "Sylverwulf, duck." Sylverwulf didn’t hesitate. The second the words left the stranger's mouth, she dropped low, twisting just as something massive blurred past where her head had been. A flash of silver. The Vikanthrope that had been lunging at her—one of the faster ones—was stopped mid-air. Not because it decided to stop. No, it had been forced to stop. Because a sword had torn across its chest. The strike was so fast, so clean, that for a split second, the Vikanthrope didn’t even realize it had been hit. Then, with a wet, gurgling snarl, it staggered back, blood spilling down its fur— And by the time it processed the pain, the blade was already at its throat. The swordsman who had delivered the attack stood effortlessly, golden eyes sharp, shoulders relaxed, his grip on the sword loose—but not in a careless way. More like he had already decided this fight was over. When he stepped into the light I was emitting, I managed to get a better look at him. He was lean but athletic, his medium-length, light-blue hair tousled slightly by the wind. A sleek, form-fitting silver armor rested under an unzipped navy-blue jacket, giving him an oddly casual look despite the very sharp sword he was currently holding to a monster’s throat. His black pants were lined with silver-plated seams, reinforced at the knees, and the laceless boots he wore looked more suited for a battlefield than a fashion statement. But despite his calculated, effortless movements, his expression was somewhere between bored and vaguely exasperated. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice dry, mildly disappointed. "Taking a nighttime stroll," she said with sarcastic laziness. "What’s it look like, _Traighan_?" "It *looks* like you're stinking up this section of the forest with Vikanthrope blood," he said, playfully covering his nose. "So this is what you always smell like!" Sylverwulf scowled, not entertained. "And you wonder why people force themselves to laugh at your jokes," she kicked a dead Vikanthrope. "And you're welcome, by the way," "For what?" "Exterminating this little group, duh!" Traighan facepalmed. "The mission was for you to hunt them down and send a signal when you did, instead you caused a ruckus and we had to clean up the remainders," Speaking of remainders, I was so caught up with the arrival of the stranger that I had forgotten about the other Vikanthrope that charged at me. As I spun around to look, the most intimidating male, elderly voice bellow from behind me. "The wolf is right, fox," the gruff voice said. "You were to follow the plan we all agreed on, yet not only did you fail to do so, you did so with this—**THING**!" Out of nowhere, I was grabbed out of the air like I was some kind of object. There wasn't any use budging either, this guy had the grip strength of a gorilla. I literally could not even move. Traighan waved his sword at me, eyes full of suspicion. "I was wondering about that thing as well..." Sylverwulf, for once, did something useful. "Put Yuru down, Asgaerious!" she demanded. "You're probably hurting him!" Asgaerious scoffed. "You named this thing? How childish of you, fox-woman, only children name these spirit things," He threw me aside like some old toy, and even if it was a slight throw, I felt myself rocket towards the bushes. And as I floated up, I got a good look at him. He was short—shorter than I expected him to be—but nonetheless imposing. He was built like a literal brick wall. His muscles, dense and coiled with raw strength, pressed against his gi. Speaking of, his gi was black, but the fabric had been weathered by time, faded in places where it had clearly seen years—decades, maybe centuries—of battle. Gold-lined accents ran along the edges, stitched in intricate but subtle patterns, their designs resembling old inscriptions rather than something for show. The waist was secured by a thick, deep crimson sash, layered with flat, circular golden charms that clinked softly whenever he moved. "Sylverwulf, why *are* you keeping a spirit as a pet? We haven't done that since we were kids," Traighan asked, a slight laughter escaping his mouth as he sheathed his sword. "And she named it too, ridiculous..." Sylverwulf strutted over to me and picked me up, letting me float beside her head. Next, she used her thumb to point to the Vikanthrope I had accidentally killed. "Because this little guy packs more of a punch that even I'd thought. He single-handedly took down that Vikanthrope over there," Asgaerious raised a wrinkly eyebrow. "That little thing took down a Vikanthrope? Please, can that spirit even talk?" The situation was set up *way* too perfect for me not to talk. Taking a mental breath and getting ready for their reactions, I said my first words to them. "Yes, I can talk," For the second time that night, I was met with absolute silence. Traighan blinked once. Then twice. Then, without any hesitation, he turned around and walked away. "I'm done. Nope. I'm not dealing with this." Sylverwulf cackled at his reaction, leaning against a tree for support. "Oh, come on, you're _that_ freaked out?" Asgaerious, on the other hand, froze mid-scoff, his already heavy frown deepening into something that bordered on genuine confusion. His golden eyes narrowed dangerously, his head tilting slightly, like he was trying to determine whether I had actually spoken or if his old age was finally catching up to him. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice slow and deliberate. I bobbed slightly, doing my best to sound casual. "I said—_yes, I can talk._" Silence again. Then, without warning, Asgaerious threw his head back and laughed. A deep, booming laugh that shook the clearing, filled with something between amusement and sheer disbelief. "IN ALL MY THREE HUNDRED YEARS OF LIVING, BAHAHAHA!" His voice was so powerful that it created a slight shockwave. "Traighan, boy! What do you make of this?" Traighan, who had made it a solid ten feet away in his dramatic exit, froze mid-step. His shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, I could see the exact second his entire will to live drained out of his body. Slowly—painfully slowly—he turned back around, rubbing his temples like he was fighting off the worst headache of his life. "What do I make of it?" he repeated flatly. He sighed through his nose, eyes narrowing as he stared directly at me. "Well, I guess Rowan would lose his mind with joy at the sight of that thing," he said, still studying me. "But if you ask me, I don't trust it," Sylverwulf rolled her eyes. "Oh, come _on,_ Traighan. You’re acting like Yuru is some kind of evil spirit or something." Traighan rubbed his temple. "Because *it* very well can! I'm not about to trust some supernatural talking orb you found in the woods and wake up to find that it ate my soul while I was sleeping," "I-I don't think I can do that..." I said. "Besides, I'm not from this world, I'm-" A loud and vicious howl rang throughout the forest, catching everyone's attention. Asgaerious looked at Traighan, who nodded in understanding. Sylverwulf sighed to herself. "Well, fun's over."