Just as Zarek braced himself to meet the incoming attack, a flicker of tension rippled across his face. His eyes narrowed—four more wolves were now charging toward him, their limbs a blur of violent motion.
The death of the first mad wolf had drawn them in like vultures to fresh blood.
Now, seven in total.
They didn't snarl or growl like typical predators on a hunt. No—these wolves simply stared at him, their eyes glowing a deep, baleful red. There was no madness in their gaze this time, only a raw, burning hatred.
It wasn't the kind that came from hunger or fear. It was personal. As if they wouldn't rest until they'd drained the last drop of his blood into the dirt.
Zarek didn't flinch. Instead of fear, a strange calm washed over him—unnatural and calculated. War God Combat Domain had triggered, flooding his body with a combatant's clarity. His muscles tensed, not with panic, but precision. Every heartbeat slowed, his vision sharpening until even the twitch of a wolf's ear seemed exaggerated. From the earlier skirmish, he'd gleaned enough data to identify the slight flaws in their movement—clear signs of where to strike, when to dodge.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
He didn't know the mechanics behind it, nor did he care. He simply willed the mad wolf—the one he'd slain—to rise again.
Reality twisted.
The air around him shimmered like heat over steel, warping space for a heartbeat. Then, with a pulse of unnatural energy, a four-foot-tall mad wolf materialized beside him. Its fur bristled with latent aggression. The moment it recognized the threat, it unleashed a bone-chilling howl.
"WOOOF!"
The cry echoed through the trees like a warhorn.
Zarek didn't break his stride. His voice cut through the noise like tempered steel.
"Attack!"
Without hesitation, he surged forward. In his grip, the half-meter-long bone dagger flashed, now coated in a ghostly silver sheen. Silversword—a skill designed to empower weapons—had activated, amplifying the edge with deadly precision.
The countdown had begun.
Once they reached him, he'd have less than thirty seconds to determine his fate. In that brief window, he might kill one, maybe two. But even the time it took to do so would allow the others to flank him—rip through his gut or clamp down on his windpipe. If they brought him to the ground, it would be over.
No second chances.
That's why Zarek began to retreat, silent and calculated. He let his summoned wolf charge ahead, throwing itself into the chaos.
The two sides finally clashed.
His mad wolf struck with savage speed, colliding with two of the enemies and managing to hold its ground. Claws slashed. Fangs snapped. Blood splattered.
But the other five ignored the distraction.
They veered, rushing straight for Zarek with terrifying speed.
As they closed in, Zarek moved like a shadow cut loose from the earth. One wolf lunged for his throat, but he pivoted gracefully, sidestepping with uncanny awareness—as if he possessed eyes in the back of his head.
War God Combat Domain.
The skill enveloped him in a field of heightened perception, attuning him to every movement around him, down to the subtlest twitch of muscle or change in pressure.
As if he could predict the wolf's next set of action.
A wolf launched itself through the air, teeth bared.
Zarek ducked beneath it in a blur, his body coiling and releasing like a spring. As the beast soared overhead, he lashed upward, his dagger tracing a silver arc.
The blade tore across its belly with surgical precision, and hot blood rained down as the wolf's momentum carried it past him—its death sealed in midair.
"Puchi!"
A wet, visceral sound split the air as Zarek's dagger carved through flesh. A crimson spray erupted, misting the battlefield in blood as the flower of death bloomed at his feet. One by one, the mad wolves collapsed into lifeless heaps, their snarls cut short, leaving behind only their mangled corpses—and a scattering of items shimmering faintly in the dim light.
[You have leveled up!]
[5 stat points awarded.]
"Huff..."
Zarek doubled over, panting hard, every breath dragging fire through his lungs. His limbs trembled, fatigue pressing down on him like a mountain. The battle had drained him. Each movement now felt heavy—deliberate.
The silver aura encasing his bone dagger flickered weakly, like a candle in the wind, threatening to vanish at any moment.
Just as Zarek was gathering his breath, a familiar figure padded toward him. His summoned mad wolf emerged from the shadows, its mouth awkwardly stuffed with loot. Despite its bleeding wounds and labored breaths, it eagerly dropped everything at Zarek's feet and stared up at him, tail twitching, eyes gleaming with something almost like pride.
It didn't care about the pain. It only wanted approval.
Zarek's lips curved faintly.
"Good boy," he said, reaching down to pat the blood-matted fur.
The wolf gave a pleased huff, seemingly reinvigorated by the praise.
Zarek straightened and scanned his surroundings, instincts sharpened by combat. His gaze darted between the trees, listening for the crunch of branches or the shuffle of paws. But the forest had gone still—eerily so. Only the occasional rustle of wind howling through the foliage.
Satisfied that no immediate threat, he turned his attention to the loot at his feet.
Seven mana cores, five Wolf Howl Daggers, and a kilogram of dried meat.
"A decent haul," he muttered, but then frowned.
"How am I supposed to carry all of this?"
He reached into his interface to access his inventory—but hit an immediate snag. Only one available slot remained... and it was already occupied.
Zarek clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Just as he was puzzling over the problem, his eyes drifted toward the mad wolf, now calmly licking at its wounds. Watching it, an idea struck him like lightning.
"Woof?" The wolf tilted its head as Zarek approached, its ears perking up with curiosity.
Without a word, Zarek began placing the collected items carefully onto the wolf's broad back. It stood still, patiently, as if sensing his intent. Then, with a low grunt, it lowered its body, making it easier for him to climb.
Zarek swung a leg over and settled onto its back.
The moment he sat down, a strange feeling washed over him—a quiet sense of security. Despite the injuries and the unstable terrain, the mad wolf carried him with surprising steadiness.
Now that he had a moment to breathe, Zarek pulled up his status window.
[Name – Zarek Silversword]
[Class – First Sequence Ultimate Grade: Infinite Origin Summoner]
[Rank – Iron]
[Title – N/A]
[Level – 1 (0/100)]
[Strength – 2.6]
[Agility – 2.8]
[Perception – 2.9]
[Physique – 2.4]
[Mana – 2.1]
[Unassigned Stat Points – 5]
Zarek blinked, stunned.
"All of my stats increased by two... Normally, a level up only gives a single point to one stat."
He clenched his fist, the excitement impossible to hide.
"Not only that... I even got five unassigned stat points."
"As expected of an Ultimate Grade class," he whispered, a grin threatening to spread across his blood-smeared face.
He remembered what he'd read: Common grade classes receive one free stat point per level. Rare classes receive two. Higher grades, even more.
Zarek's class, however—First Sequence Ultimate Grade—was something else entirely.
This time, he wouldn't waste his potential. He swore it for what felt like the thousandth time.
Still, he didn't rush to allocate the stat points. Not yet. Not until he fully understood what each skill did. Especially the mysterious Ninth Sequence item. And then there was Infinite Summon Link—a skill that felt like a cornerstone of his power.
As he pondered, the mad wolf moved with quiet precision, its gait smooth despite the rough terrain. Its long legs absorbed the jarring impacts of the uneven ground, expertly weaving through twisted roots roots and sharp rocks. Every so often, it paused to sniff the air or scan the horizon, alert for threats.
Only when it was absolutely certain of their safety did it continue forward.
Meanwhile, Zarek's eyes were locked onto the description of the Ninth Sequence item.
His heart pounded.
"This is... broken," he whispered.
So broken that he didn't dare take it out into the real world. For now, its use was restricted—only accessible within the Infinite Summoning Space.
Unable to contain his anticipation, Zarek made his decision.
With a thought, he entered the space.