"Agda!" Ivan desperately cried.

  But Eric was already moving, yanking Agda back so that neither she nor her bundled baby were struck by the careening cart as it bounced through the fields, carefully packed crates and burlap sacks flying off into the thick grass before the cart toppled over in a heap of shattered lumber, crushed goods, and a squealing, shrieking draft horse whose squeals were brutally cut off as shadowy shapes tore through the growing mist and tore out its throat.

  Agda stiffened, eyes wide with horror.

  “Eric!”

  Ivan’s desperate shout, as much a plea as a call to battle, jolted Eric out of his stupefied horror that he knew better than to let himself be thrown off by.

  “Back to back, Agda between us!” Ivan roared.

  Yet Eric was already moving, dashing to a stunned Agda’s side and throwing the treasure he had spent a twentieth of his Soul Reserves, in this time and place, to forge.

  A ring of beast hides covered in shimmering runic script, dyed with his own blood.

  A fifteen feet diameter wide ring that snapped to full size just as Emily screamed as a dozen wild-eyed beasts seemed to materialize all around them, as if conjured by the mist-laden air itself.

  Agda choked out a sob. “It’s a trap! Heaven’s mercy, they were flushing us out of our home like a hunter flushing out his prey!”

  Ivan snarled, cursing in what Eric could only assume was a Russian dialect as the air rang with the monstrous bellows of a wolf the size of a grizzly, mocking them all with his feral grin.

  “That’s right, little two-legged fools! Thinking yourselves so mighty with sharpened steel, wearing the furs of your betters. In the end, when fear consumes you, when terror drives you, you’re no different than us. Worse! Unlike the deer fleet of foot, or the badger, wily and clever, you can do naught but plod forth at a snails pace, burdened with food so easily stolen, wooden shells so easily shattered, weak fragile furless nothings so easy to kill, so easy to consume!”

  “You think we’re so easy to kill?” Ivan roared. “Come then, be the first to die!”

  The wolf laughed coldly as he approached Eric’s rune-covered circle, sniffing disdainfully as the entire ring was surrounded by snarling wolves. “Know my name, mortals. It is Darkfang. You shall curse it with your dying breaths while I feast upon your entrails!” It’s smile grew wicked. “But not until after my wolves have hamstrung you all from behind!”

  The mist rang with Darkfang’s cruel laughter as a trio of fleet, shadowy wolves leaped over the crimson rune-covered skins that they knew better than to touch directly, eager to tear out the—

  “Fire Trap!” Eric roared, as the ring blasting the trio of wolves back with a gust of fiery wind that sent the blazing comets of fur hurtling into the fog with the stench of burning meat and hide as the wolves suffered the equivalent of blast forge burns, searing deep into their flesh. And of the pair that had inhaled the superheated air… their high pitched gurgling yelps turning to panicked wheezes signifying the doom of seared, fluid-filled lungs even as the third wounded wolf howled and stumbled away as fast as it could into the fog.

  Eric flashed a cold smile. “You were saying, Darkfang?”

  “You!” The lead wolf roared, glaring at Eric’s furious smirk. “I smell the stink of tainted magics twisted with the hides of my own people! That you would dare!”

  Eric chuckled coldly, even as a surge of will, a silent command, set the whole circle ablaze as runes flared with the heat of a foundry, whipped ever hotter and higher by the agitated wind overhead that both propelled superheated air toward the yipping wolves and pulled in fresh cool air to sooth the brows of Eric and his companions.

  At that moment he couldn’t help but flash a fierce grin, deciding that unlocking arts that had otherwise been confounded by the dense etherium of this place had been well worth the cost in blood and Soul Points.

  The massive wolf roared his fury Eric’s way.

  Loud enough to rally his panicked soldiers.

  Loud enough that it was all Eric could do not to clap full hands over ringing ears as poor Emily shrieked and Agda whimpered, hands covering her daughter’s ears, not her own.

  A roar that did absolutely nothing to extinguish the merrily blazing flames before the massive wolf as Eric glared Ivan’s way. “Wait for it!”

  Silent words Eric prayed the man would understand but wasn’t so stupid as to look away from the alpha predator for more than a heartbeat.

  And even that length nearly spelled his death.

  For the massive wolf had already leaped, massive maw curving in a fierce grin as it soared over the blazing hot flames and—”

  “Gravity Well!” Eric shrieked for all he was worth.

  The ground rang with a shuddering crash as the massive grizzly-sized wolf crashed into the ground with such force that Agda was knocked right off her feet, after the gravity affecting Darkfang alone abruptly tripled, Wind halting its airborn flight as Eric proved just how fiercely hot the flames of his warding circle truly were.

  Strong enough to ignite the enchanted fur of the villain of this twisted tale.

  Strong enough to dispel even the twisted ether that strangled all arts save for the most ephemeral.

  For in this circle permeated by the essences of Fire and Dominion, Eric’s arts reigned supreme.

  Dark Fang’s bloodshot eyes widened with fury even as its torso smoked and sizzled like well done meat in the foundry-like heat blazing from the runes searing into its flesh like blowtorches.

  Yet a stunned Darkfang still managed to right itself with shocking ease, and the three-inch deep patch of charred flesh and skin that would spell death so quickly for any other wolf was but the topmost layer of flesh covering the grizzly-sized beast.

  A beast that still managed to force its way forward, even with triple gravity weighing it down, deadly gaze locking upon Eric’s own.

  Before a rifle discharged a billowing dragon’s plume of white smoke, and two eyes became one as the fires around the wolf blazed to furious life, and a desperate spear thrust was Eric’s only hope of not having his entrails torn out in the blink of an eye.

  Eric’s heart hammered as time seemed to stretch and slow the tiniest bit, yet he knew that, despite his best efforts, despite flash-learning a spell that should have been almost impossible in his present state, the massive beast was about to lunge forward and snap him in half, severe injury or no, and there was nothing he could do with his own musculature and finesse still kissing mortality so closely.

  Nothing save tap into the sudden resonance he felt with countless warriors putting absolutely everything on the line in their desperate race to avert disaster and save their friends, their loved ones, the most valued members of their tribe with a single desperate spear thrust. A spear thrust perfectly aligned with the memory of countless hours of diligent practice, for that one precious moment echoing the borrowed strength of their ancestors, so many ancestors, into one single desperate blow.

  Ancestral Strike!

  Congratulations! You have successfully struck your prey with a spear thrust enhanced by the power of countless generations of spear hunters before you!

  Spear is now Rank 10! Finesse, Quickness, and Strength have each gone up by one point (multiplicative with all other modifiers) as the power and potency of your ancestors becomes your own!

  Eric’s howl resonated with the desperate scream of his mother’s people and the guttural howl of his father’s as a spear head of imperfectly hammer-welded steel and iron shattered under the sheer force of the blow… but not before blasting superheated fragments of steel into Dark Fang’s brain.

  Congratulations! You have slain Darkfang! Alpha wolf, and have resolved the hidden quest—warning! Key protagonists are in peril!!

  Eric wasted no time being shocked at the System itself alerting him to folly, for he already knew by the desperate shriek echoing through the air that multiple wolves had leaped past the flame, his mind rapidly replaying those final terrible seconds.

  “Our master has been slain.”

  “We are doomed!”

  “No choice, brothers! We claim the key as one!”

  And Eric was already turning and racing past a howling Ivan, furiously plunging his bayonet into one wild-eyed wolf covered in flame as a second savaged his thick leather boot, and two others dove for Agda. One racing for Emily as the other snapped at Agda’s too vulnerable, too mortal throat.

  Eric screamed, empty fists free of shattered spear as he lashed out in panicked fury. Just a mortal with two hands against a 250 pound frenzying pair of wolves.

  Hands that held no weapons.

  Hands that coursed with the essence of Flame.

  “Fire Fist!” Eric screamed in his mind. Caring nothing for how strange and twisted the arts were in this Enigmatic realm. Caring only that all those who crossed the boundary of wolf hide and phoenix blood were in his domain. The arts blazing in his blood proved ascendant to the edicts of Enigma as 4 ranks of Dominion and a Phoenix’s fury proved beyond even this realm’s ability to suppress as a shocked, mostly mortal wolf tasted fire that had once sent a thirtieth level cultivator hurtling into death what seemed a lifetime ago, as ribs shattered and lungs exploded with flame.

  A violent enough death for the wolves gazing so hungrily at the little girl so frustratingly covered in blankets and wicker that one had to waste a desperate heartbeat shredding the cradleboard before uncovering the bruised and naked flesh of the screaming baby before its skull exploded in bone fragments and flame, Eric quickly scooping up the sobbing little girl covered in cuts, bruises, and first degree burns, gently placing her in her panicked mother’s arms before turning about to glare at the pile of blazing wolf corpses, and the lonely pair glaring at Eric still.

  Eric razed his fists blazing with Fiery Qi.

  “Who wants some, motherfuckers!? Plenty of death where that came from!”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The pair of wolves howled despairingly.

  “We are lost, brother! Soon we will be wolves in truth, and nothing more.”

  The other gave a bitter shake of its head. “Come, brother. Better that then dead, let us—”

  It’s words broke off with a yelp as the air belched forth leaden death once more and then there was only one survivor fleeing into the mist.

  Eric snarled, about to race out when Ivan’s voice cracked with command.

  “Hold, Eric! The played us for fools once before! If there are others, if you go out alone, away from whatever enchantments burns away the fog and protects us within here… if those wolves hamstring you and tear your throat in the mist before you can do more than howl like the very beasts killing you…

  Eric hissed, clenched fists sputtering out as he stumbled to the blood-slicked ground.

  “Point made, Ivan. I understand.”

  He took a shuddering breath, suddenly so dizzy he could barely stand, feeling absolutely ravenous and dying of thirst. But first he saw to his friends, wincing at the sight of the blood spurting from Ivan’s torn calf, and Emily’s battered and bleeding form as she held her daughter close, tears of dismay streaming down her cheeks.

  “Those things came so close to killing us, Eric. And my poor daughter… father! You’re bleeding. It’s bad! We have to treat it right…” Her words cut off when the air shivered with Eric’s whispered words as his fingers gently touched her father’s calf… Ivan’s eyes widening when the blood-loss stopped, the crimson trickle going in reverse.

  “Heaven’s mercy!” Agda whispered.

  Eric tried for a reassuring smile that came out as a pained grimace. “Don’t worry. The essence of Fire burns away all impurities. The only blood Ivan reclaims is his own.”

  Yet Agda continued to gaze at him with speechless disbelief, even as Ivan let loose a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Eric.” He flashed a bleak smile. “I had feared I would have to put a very big responsibility on a boy no older than my daughter.”

  Agda huffed. “Stop it, Father. You’ll be fine. Eric, if you could hold Emily?”

  Wordlessly he did while Agda still took the time to dress and clean all of their scrapes and injuries, most especially where the wolf had bitter her father’s leg, the boots the only thing that saved him from a truly crippling injury.

  “There. Even should your magic have few limits, Eric…”

  Eric nodded. “I understand. And I don’t blame you a bit. Nothing beats working together for maximum healing benefit.”

  Agda nodded, gazing at Eric for long moments with those beautiful blue eyes of hers. “Eric?”

  Eric swallowed. “Yes, Agda?”

  “Thank you for rescuing us.” She flashed a teasing smile. “Handsome elven prince.”

  Eric swallowed even as he savored that moment, putting aside the messages trumpeting inside his skull as a new path abruptly opened itself before him.

  A path he suspected he’d be a fool not to embrace, right then and there, no matter that he skirted the edge of what was permitted in this quest.

  For this wasn’t about completing missions.

  This was about survival.

  And Eve on his side or no, his body was mostly mortal, and it was clear that their foes weren’t limited by any level range or any other bullshit like that.

  If he didn’t use absolutely every ability he had access to, limited as it was…

  But first, to make use of the resources already before him.

  Silently, he went to the largest collection of ruined supplies in the mist, never mind his friend’s worried cries.

  “Eric, be careful!”

  “Don’t worry, no heat signatures are close,” he assured, using what was now darn close to 18 Strength to haul what supplies he could quickly salvage in two trips, efficiently pulling free the cast iron skillet despite Agda’s tutting, before proceeding to the corpse of the massive wolf he had slain.

  He turned to a curious-looking Ivan. “Your hanger, if you’d be so kind?”

  Wordlessly, the man handed over blade that was historically considered either a very long dagger or a short sword.

  “Eric?”

  Ivan’s disapproving look at the way Eric used his obviously well cared for weapon to chop open tough, thick hide turned to a startled blink when Eric used his Strength to crack open a few stubborn ribs before pulling free his prize.

  Blackfang’s still beating heart.

  Agda and Ivan cursed at the sight.

  Eric flashed a fierce smile. “My interface makes it clear that this ten point prize is free for the taking, so long as it’s consumed before the mist claims our kill. And if we’re concerned about Lycanthropy’s curse or boon… well, I think a searing hot fry over heat infused with the essence of Dominion will be more than sufficient to dispel any curse… though, again, the heart dings as a pristine treasure, so I think we’re fine either way.

  Agda and Ivan were both gazing at Eric in stunned stillness as he hummed an off key melody while expertly slicing the heart into multiple slivers he happily fried, needing only a bit of coaxing from Agda for shallots, parsly, basil and lard to make it a meal worth eating.

  Yet even if Ivan only dared a single piece, “For strengthening my blood,” he said, Eric could see by the man’s widened eyes that he had received some sort of boon, even as Agda quickly joined in.

  Congratulations! You have chosen to eat the heart of Enigma’s bane and reap its boon in turn!

  Note! You have elected to share Infused Heart! You now enjoy the boon of +3 to Strength & +3 to Vitality! Note! The first 3 points of each are immediate gains! (Remainder of title modified boons will take 1 week to come into full effect.)

  “Incredible!” Ivan declared in a voice husky with awe, eyes widening with wonder. “To taste the flesh of an actual enchanted beast. To feel its strength becoming my own!”

  Agda’s eyes were wide with awe as well. “I feel… I don’t feel any taint or foulness at all… just Strength! Father, this is a boon! We must…” She blinked at the now empty skillet, before turning pouting eyes a flushing Eric’s way.

  “Eric, seriously?”

  Eric’s cheeks blazed. “Sorry! I didn’t realize I had… yeah. Tasty though, right?”

  Agda gave him a mock glare that quickly turned to a sheepish grin. “I can feel the years melting away. I feel like I’m seventeen again!”

  “And I a mere thirty,” Ivan concurred.

  Eric snorted. “You’re only nineteen, Agda. But yes. I’m guessing you got a Strength and Vitality surge? That probably did grant you a few more years of health and vigor, so you’ll age far more gracefully than you otherwise would.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry I um… got ahead of myself.”

  Agda’s eyes twinkled. “Considering that we’re only alive because a fairy prince took pity on us… apology accepted.”

  Eric winced at that, before clearing his throat. “So, all jests aside… I guess it’s obvious that I have some… unusual knacks?”

  Father and daughter exchanged smiles. “Yes, Eric. That much is obvious.”

  Eric gazed at the pair for long moments. “That isn’t the only path I walk.”

  Ivan chuckled ruefully, hard eyes turned soft with a father’s gratitude. “Really, Eric? You walk more paths than that of Fire, Wind, and Blood? Just how deeply did your mother… blasphemy!”

  Eric stiffened at the looks of horror upon his friend’s features, but he refused to let it alter his focus one bit as he methodically dragged each and every wolf corpse inside his blood ward before filling the air with words that reverberated through the mist.

  “Surge Centuria! Imperator Imperat, tibi!”

  Agda gazed at Eric in genuine horror. Her skin had turned chalk white, softly whispering words whose meaning she clearly understood. “Rise, soldiers, and obey your Commander.”

  Eric ignored the horrified looks his friends… former friends? Were giving him. What mattered were the messages flashing through his interface even as he approached a fully restored Blackfang, eyes flashing with furious rebellion.

  “Fool! Daring to bring me—NO! MERCY!”

  The beast howled when a crimson sigil upon his brow flared to brilliant, blinding life, falling to his haunches and howling his submission as did all the other wolves of his former pack.

  Now Eric’s pack.

  Congratulations! You have completed the Hidden Quest: Wolves’ Peril!

  You have uncovered a hidden band of Mord’s most ardent followers, trapped in Enigma while Mord fell. They were granted a single moon to claim a key and empower themselves before losing their humanity forevermore. You have elected NOT to negotiate with said wolves. You have elected NOT to lead said wolves. You have chosen to PURGE said wolves, slaying their leader Blackfang, the strongest of all those who managed to survive in their weakened state in Enigma.

  You have successfully claimed Blackfang’s heart and savored the boons of Vitality and Strength it brings.

  Quest complete!

  Fire Fist has been quantized at Rank 5!

  Blood Mastery is now Rank 10! Scholarship has increased by 1 point! Soul Reserves have increased by 2 points!

  Runic Lore is now Rank 10! Arcane Potential has increased by 1 point, Spiritual Energy has increased by 1 point! Scholarship has increased by 1 point!

  NOTE. You have DEFIED the limitations of Enigma and have successfully pulled a full dozen souls eager to escape the howling whirlwind of spirits and reclaim their shells once more.

  Spirit Mastery increases by one rank.

  You approach a Major Threshold!

  Meridian Plaque has increased from 1.59% to 1.64%.

  The Necromancer’s Path is now your own once more!

  Note! Limitations apply!

  Any revenant beyond your wards will erupt with the weight of spirits flooding this realm’s ether!

  Eric’s mind blazed with the wonder and horror of sudden revelations, awakening to so much that was forgotten, as if finally slipping free of a fever dream.

  Tears sprang in his eyes as he clenched fists that were still borderline human, with a Strength of 19, nevermind the looks of awe and fear that both Ivan and Agda were giving him as his attire stretched tightly over his frame.

  Even if physically he was such a far cry from his former self that any moderately competent Classer of even fifteenth level would be more than a match for him, easily... so long as he held off from using his more exotic arts. Yet still. To feel an entire series of bindings abruptly snap free of his mind even as a tiny ring on his finger came to tingling life… he shook his head in awed relief. Perhaps it was only because his Necromancer class was, in the end, considered but a Profession, which made its potential far easier to hide than would otherwise be the case for almost anyone else.

  Of course, there was still a major roadblock, which the wolves before him, speaking in ways his revenants never dared before, quickly made clear.

  “Master, this grateful supplicant fears that our ability to serve you is limited,” hissed one wolf.

  “Quit limited,” confirmed another.

  Agda flinched, trembling in her father’s arms as her daughter began to wail.

  “His talking to them, Father. He’s commanding the dead!”

  “Be at ease, Daughter. You remember Rasputin’s court. The madness we endured. Odd friends with odder talents, whose oaths of loyalty bound them still, were our salvation in the end.”

  “But nothing binds Eric at all. You can’t bind the Fae. Not without ultimately paying a terrible price. All the tales know it to be so!”

  Eric tuned out his friends’ pointless worries, focused only on the problem before him.

  Before his lips curled in a feral grin matched by the wolves, the suggestion so obvious.

  “Well, then. How about we make you a set of collars?”

  And in short order his wolves were kitted with collars glowing with crimson runes infused with the essences of Fire and Dominion, marking the wolves as his own, and burning away any trace of Enigma that would dare try to claim what wasn’t theirs.

  You have successfully raised and bound 1 dozen revenants at significant skill penalty within Enigma.

  Your wards hold! For what is a shadow realm’s screams compared to Dominion’s reign?

  Rituals of Summoning and Binding increases by one rank.

  Eric gave a satisfied nod, turning to his speechless friends. “There, what do you think? Heal, boys!” He gave an approving nod. “And they all have matching collars. Think we’ll be able to pass them off as wolf hounds?”

  Ivan gave Eric a solemn shake of his head. “Not a chance in hell of that, Your Grace.”

  “Awesome. Come on, let’s go!”