The Heavenly Hero Returns

Chapter 4.5: The Mother Wolf's Fury

The moment the mother dire wolf lunged, you knew.

Not through thought, but through instinct—an ingrained response far older than your fractured memories.

She was faster than the others, moving with a wild intelligence honed by countless hunts. Her massive frame cut through the air, claws glinting in the sunlight. Her target was you.

Tobias barely had time to react, still shifting his stance, but it didn't matter.

She was never going for him.

You didn't think—your body simply moved.

A sharp dash backward. Just enough. The tips of her claws grazed your waist, shhk!—slicing clean through your belt. Your scabbard and excess cloth dropped away, but you were already countering.

One foot snapped up, planting firmly against her chest.

For a split second, the world seemed to pause.

She was still midair. Her claws were still reaching. Her snarl was still frozen in time, inches from your face.

But you pivoted.

Your body twisted effortlessly, rolling under her swinging arm as if gravity itself bent to accommodate you. Using her own momentum, your foot pressed against her thick fur, leveraging both her weight and your own to twirl yourself around.

To an outsider, it was either something incredibly masterful—or unbelievably obnoxious.

By the time your feet touched the ground, she was still in midair, her balance momentarily broken.

And your hand was already moving.

Not your blade. Not a weapon.

Your bare hand.

Fingers curled, wrist angled, the motion was fluid—thoughtless, precise. As natural as breathing.

Your palm smashed into her face, fingers carving through fur and flesh alike.

A wet, sickening squelch.

A shriek of pain ripped through the battlefield.

The mother wolf hit the ground with a heavy crash, skidding through the dirt as blood sprayed from her ruined eye. She thrashed wildly, letting out a guttural howl that sent the remaining beasts into a momentary frenzy.

But you just stood there, breathing evenly. Your fingers twitched, feeling the warmth of fresh blood between them.

And that was when you realized—

You had aimed for her eye without even thinking.

As if that had been the goal from the very start.

Chapter 4.6: The Blind Execution

The mother wolf's head snapped toward you, her single remaining eye locking onto your position. Blood dripped down her ruined face, matting the thick fur around her jaw. Her snarl was guttural, filled with rage and raw pain—but it didn't matter.

She was already too late.

Your body had moved before she even finished turning.

Her remaining eye was still in motion, still trying to track you—

And your fingers were already plunging toward it.

A sharp, wet squelch.

Her howl turned into a choked, agonized whimper.

You ripped your hand free, now coated in sticky warmth.

The mother wolf staggered, pawing at her face in a desperate, futile attempt to comprehend her new darkness. The sheer brutality of the act sent shockwaves through the battlefield. Even the remaining beasts hesitated.

You exhaled, stepping lightly away from the flailing creature.

She was still alive. But she was done.

Your senses snapped back to the surroundings.

You could hear the adventurers still locked in battle—metal clashing against claws, spells crackling in the air. Yet the sounds had shifted. The momentum of the fight had changed.

Some of the wolves and boars hesitated. Others outright bolted, as if your mere presence had become something to fear.

A part of you registered the stunned silence of the adventurers.

And your brother.

Tobias hadn't moved. He hadn't even drawn his sword.

The fire mage's voice barely broke above the chaos.

"…The hell was that?"

The vanguard, a stocky man clad in heavy plate, was still standing firm, but his grip on his weapon had tightened.

"That wasn't just fast," he muttered. "That was… something else."

You ignored them. Your attention was on your fallen sword.

The stupid, clunky, heavy tumor of a sword.

The one thing about this fight that still annoyed you.

You weaved between the remaining creatures without thinking, your body flowing like water, dodging wild swipes and snapping jaws. It was simple. Too simple. They were slow. Predictable.

Even completely blind, the mother wolf still lashed out in raw desperation, but her attacks were erratic, sloppy. You ducked under a wild claw, twisted past another, until finally—

Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your sword.

And with a single downward arc, you ended her.

A heavy, final thud of her body collapsing into the dirt.

The battlefield went still.

The remaining beasts—especially the larger ones—began retreating, their animalistic instinct overriding whatever had driven them to attack in the first place. They had already been wary since your first half-hearted shout—now they were outright terrified.

"The hell is going on?" the fire mage hissed. "Why are they running?"

"I—" The vanguard hesitated, watching the creatures scatter. "…They shouldn't be."

But they were.

And you could still feel their fear lingering in the air.