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(4) Volume 1 4 Part II — Dreadful Weed
(4) Volume 1 4 Part II — Dreadful Weed
Volume 1 Chapter 4 — Dreadful Weed Part II
“Look, we already shook hands with him.”
“If we fight as a team, it’ll work out, right?”
“I guess so, but…”
“Let’s give it a try.”
They caught up with Weed. He was busy staring at a bunch of rabbits and raccoons that were hopping about. He was ignorant of monsters in general, how much damage they could inflict and what pattern they would use to attack.
Pale asked, “Excuse me, if you’re still interested, we want you in.”
“I have a low level. If you’re okay with it, I want to play with you guys,” Weed said cautiously.
“Well, we’re cool. We are now a team. You don’t need to exert yourself on the front, and if you feel like it, you can stay behind us.”
Pale suggested Weed take cover instead of taking an active role in hunting. In their eyes, he was no more than a pure newbie.
“Are you sure about it?”
“Yes. You can’t collect as much experience as you are actually bringing your party down when you’re making less contribution, but your priority at this point is raising your level. Listen, level three to level six makes a lot of difference, even though they’re only three levels apart. If you’re at level three and add all stat bonus points in strength, you’ll get twenty-five. I have forty. Add to it ten bonus points in the course of converting to a class, and the gap between you and me widens drastically.”
“…”
Pale omitted this, but additional rewards in accordance with a user’s class were more noticeable.
For instance, take an archer wielding a sword and a sword warrior yielding a sword, the sword warrior can inflict twice the damage as an archer wielding a sword. On the other hand, his arrow will make less than half the damage dealt by the archer. It was, to say the least, a disappointment to the others that Weed was freelance.
“Now, stay behind and watch us take down mobs for now, Weed-nim. When you find room to spare, get in, have a go and leave. It will help us if you just confuse mobs, divert their agro elsewhere.”
Weed nodded. “I see.”
The confusion was settled, and Weed decided to join their party and hunt monsters together. It was a pick-up group designed to handle dull beasts around the Citadel, and his teammates had already been engaged in pick-and-roll without him. The thing is, though, that they had realized it was too risky that only Surka, a monk whose agility in dodging attacks compensated for a low defense level, had tanked on the frontline. That was why they had been searching for a tanker.
* * *
“Damn it.”
Ahn Hyundo, successor of Bonkuk Kumdo, one of the traditional schools for swordsmanship in Korea, pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. In the dojang, hundreds of teenagers and adults were practicing Kumdo, yelling battle cries, or kihap, in the language of Bonkuk Kumdo.
“Yatz!”
“Yatz!”
Ahn Hyundo could hear erupting kihaps and the whistling sounds generated by swords in action.
Once you master swordsmanship, a sound gives you a clue as to which stage a Kumdo practitioner is in.
Ahn Hyundo was ranked the best Kumdo master, recognized worldwide, four-time World Champion of Swordsmanship.
As Ahn Hyundo matured in age, he retreated to his own dojang and dedicated his time and energy to training the next generation of Kumdo practitioners, but his hand and body had never left the sword, even for a second.
“I haven’t seen anyone with the guts. I should have trained that kid properly when he was around. He’s got something, something that could transcend my talent. Plus he’s got the guts and balls…”
Ahn Hyundo used to be satisfied that he had quite a number of competent apprentices. They had enough talent to qualify for a medal in the World Championship of Swordsmanship that was held every five years.
One day, however, the grand master’s perception had been turned upside down.
* * *
A year ago.
A man of about twenty years of age visited Ahn Hyundo’s dojang.
“Hello, I am Lee Hyun. I’ve come here because they recommended this is the best dojang.”
“Son, you handled a sword before?”
“No, sir. That’s why I’m here to learn it.”
“True. You must learn it. Learn and learn until you have an understanding of the big picture of swordsmanship, then we may talk about who’s the best.”
Ahn Hyundo believed it was the end of it, and forgot about the kid for a while. Then one morning, he saw Lee Hyun swinging a sword in a shower of sunlight.
Lee Hyun swung the sword for hours. His movement synchronized with his breathing patterns, and his sword emitted a beautiful sound. He had already reached a stage beyond what a beginner could achieve in a few months.
Ahn Hyundo summoned his subordinate instructors and asked them about Lee Hyun, who turned out to be devoted to ceaseless drills.
“Speaking of that apprentice, he’s got the bug. I haven’t seen anyone who’s more obsessed with training than him.”
“How obsessed is the kid?”
“Once he picks up a sword, he never lets it go, unless we pull it from his hands.”
“You have to pull the sword from his hands to stop him?”
“Yes, master. If we leave him alone, he will swing the sword hard until he’s completely out of breath. The first day he joined the dojang, he kept swinging the sword when his palms were shredded with bleeding.”
“He went so far…”
“Yes, master. Exactly the same thing occurred on the second day. He trained in sword techniques while bleeding until a callus formed, his grip was firm, and his palms were as hard as a rock. So it’s not surprising that he reached this level so fast.”
“He’s amazing!”
Ahn Hyundo chose Lee Hyun to be his successor without telling him so.
Talent and work. The apprentice had both virtues, and what really captured the master’s mind were his eyes. When Ahn Hyundo instructed his would-be successor to a duel, his eyes glowed with something distinctive.
It was the will to fight, which an ordinary man whose instinct had been emasculated by civilization could not muster. This was found in Lee Hyun.
It was still a time of trial for him. Ahn Hyundo believed that it was too early to tell his plans to Lee Hyun, which might jeopardize his progress. Therefore, the master had treated his apprentice rather indifferently, motivating him with plenty of objectives and watching his progress from a distance.
Then, one day, Lee Hyun stopped checking in at the dojang.
* * *
—Back to now.
“Whew.”
Ahn Hyundo’s sigh deepened.
“I wonder what he’s been doing. I should have made him my successor when I could.”
* * *
Taking cover behind Pale, Weed was watching the battle from a safe place.
“Irene, help me!”
“Roger! Fire ball!” Romuna chimed in.
“Divine power leads us to a triumph, Blessing!””
While Surka the monk was attacking a fox head-on, Romuna, Pale and Irene attacked at the fox from behind.
They adopted this strategy because Surka’s level was seven, the highest among them, and the rest were squishes with relatively low life and defense.
The fox moved swiftly from one place to another. It dodged Surka’s fist with little damage, and the tail attacks when it suddenly spun around were sometimes critical enough to make her back away.
With little stamina left, Surka often found herself at the risk of immobilization. Then, Irene would give her rapid healing to replenish her life and stamina while the others attacked the fox to take the agro away from her.
They’re not bad.
The quartet’s teamwork was emphatic.
They neither lusted for cheap items, nor became worked up over small things. It appeared to him that the chemistry among his teammates had built up over time. Perhaps they had teamed up in another on line game before they migrated to Royal Road.
Still, they had to ratchet up the tension while hunting a fox at level five.
Raccoons and rabbits were easy game, which Surka could handle alone. But a fox was tough, to put it mildly.
Weed easily grasped that this party focused on foxes in their hunting spree. He watched the ongoing battle for a while-until he thought he had seen enough of it.
His sharp eyes analyzed the patterns in movement of the foxes and Surka.
It’s easier than I thought.
They outnumbered their enemy by four to one. The way a fox moved was slow and predictable as far as he could see. He watched it until he gained enough confidence. Then, he held the iron sword and left the cover.
Surka smiled at Weed who was coming up to her side.
“Watch out, Weed-nim.”
“Yup.” His response was very short.
The monster on their radar was once again a fox.
“I’m going to attract her attention first Weed-nim, you attack later. Like when it’s almost dead.”
Surka punched the fox, which jumped on her in a reflex action. Romuna, Pale and Irene rained projectiles, both physical and magical, on to their victim.
When the fox’s life dropped to one third, Weed slid in.
He had little experience of battles previously in virtual reality games, but he was acquainted with real sword fights through hundreds of duels. Plus, he had struck the scarecrow tens of thousand times.
The iron sword drew a shiny-white trace in the air in a fraction of second. At the end of the gaudy semi-circle was the fox.
Weed had timed the attack so precisely that the fox could not even try to dodge it.
CRITICAL HIT!
A message window that was visible only to Weed popped up. Critical hit!
That only appeared when the damage was doubled as a result of an effective attack, the outcome of exquisite timing.
Glint
The fox was cut in half, and disappeared in a flash. It dropped two items. A fox pelt and meat.
You can turn meat to steaks by cooking on a bonfire, and fox pelt is one of the most widely used materials for clothes. This kind of production process requires related skills. Newbies rarely learn such skills as cooking and tailoring. It is more often than not that these items are destined to end up on a shelf in the nearest grocery store.
“Great move! You were lucky this time.”
Grinning, Surka collected the items.
Pale and Romuna, who had been casting the most powerful spells in case of a counterattack, were delighted by their new teammate’s success.
“Weed-nim, we’ll distribute items among us when the hunting mission’s over.”
“Alright.”
“Then, I’ll go lure another fox. Everyone, get ready.”
“Okay. Bring a fox full of items again.”
“Shoot. Wish it were up to me,” grumbled Surka comically.
She dealt a punch to a fox that was wandering by, and attracted it closer.
“Fireball!”
“Blessing. Healing Hand”
Surka put up a tough fight as the fox was moving swiftly. Pale and Romuna pressured the fox persistently.
Weed’s iron sword began to move when the fox had forty percent of life remaining. The sword slid out of the sheath and struck the fox like lightning.
Swish
As luck would have it, the fox didn’t drop any item this time, not that items dropped by ordinary foxes were of any great value.
For the third fox, the sword went into action with fifty percent of its life remaining.
A critical hit didn’t burst this time, so the fox survived Weed’s first strike. It was followed by a sequence attack that flowed like liquid. The slain fox left only one item.
“What?”
“It seems strange.”
“We’re hunting foxes faster.”
“When Weed attacks them, they almost always die.”
A few foxes later, his other teammates detected the pattern.
Since Weed had joined the party, the pace at which they were hunting foxes had picked up. As soon as he pulled out his iron sword, foxes were helplessly slaughtered. They disappeared in a gray flash the moment Weed brandished the sword.
“What in the world!”
Pale’s mouth dropped open, planning to stay there for some time. For Weed slew foxes so fast, Surka was busy drawing new ones from far away.
Even if Pale didn’t bother shooting arrows, the pace of hunting hardly slowed down. This apparently inexplicable situation in the eyes of everyone else in his party was attributed to Weed’s stats.
Initially, Weed had been given ten points in strength at the activation of his account, plus forty points that he had obtained from the Training Hall. He had invested stat bonus points acquired by the two level-ups equally in strength and agility. As a result, his strength and agility were both fifty-five, and stamina fifty.
Moreover, Weed enjoyed ten points in strength from the iron sword he was equipped with. To achieve this level of strength solely by raising your level, you need to hit level eleven as you invest fully in strength.
More remarkably, Weed’s agility, stamina, willpower and vitality were way beyond his current level. It needs at least eight to nine extra level-ups to improve so much.
Weed, level three, rivaled an average Lv. 30 warrior.
A more surprising fact was that he had advanced sword mastery to level four while striking the scarecrow. It translated into forty percent more damage dealt to the enemy.
Weed’s current level in sword mastery was four plus 98 percent. Once it reached level five, the effect on attack power would increase to fifty percent. Last but not least, the iron sword that the instructor had given Weed was a sort of high-powered luxury compared to his level. To sum it up, a fox was no match for Weed.
“That sword must be a unique item.”
Pale immediately became suspicious. Otherwise, they could not come up with a proper explanation for Weed’s uncommon strength. They were still newbies, so they could not see how Weed knew how to come in at the right moment.
In battles in virtual reality online games, as they are based on real--time movements, a martial art maniac is obviously better positioned than a klutz.
Weed utilized the sword techniques that he had trained for during the whole year, down to trivial-looking footwork, which was invisible to the untrained eye. They simply believed that his sword was superb.
“Great.”
Excited, Surka lured foxes one by one.
Weed held the iron sword tight. He was in high spirits because the sword techniques he had examined and learned were proving productive.
“I didn’t waste the year. Now!” he cried to himself.
CRITICAL HIT!
Many of Weed’s attacks were deemed critical. He predicted where the fox would move, and executed his attack exactly where it went. His yearlong training that demanded sweat and blood was bearing fruit.
“Yatz! Yatz!”
Brisk battle cries came from his mouth. He was immersed in his own fight, keeping eye contact with the foxes and swinging the sword mercilessly.
Irene and Romuna giggled at the comical sight of Weed acting and looking so serious. Suddenly, the fox’s paw scratched him on the chest.
“Healing Hand!”
Weed’s torso flashed in white. Then, he realized that, even before he received the divine power, the gauge of his life dropped minimally.
“Maybe…”
Weed called out to Surka, who was running to draw another fox,
“Surka-nim”
“Yes, Weed-nim?”
“What’s your life?”
“It’s 150. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just curious.”
A fox could give a maximum damage of 15. Defenseless, Weed had to absorb the full damage, but his life was over seven hundred.
“Okay, Surka-nim. How about I do the tanking for now?”
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Yup. So, you keep drawing foxes. Romuna-nim and Irene can’t move far away because their stamina runs out quickly. Pale-nim, can you shoot at foxes in the distance to lure them over here?”
In a short time, Weed had assumed the role of leader of the party.
“Of course.”
“Then, Pale-nim, please help Surka-nim bring foxes here.”
Weed moved wildly. When Surka ran back, taking damage from a fox, he quickly took care of it. Those foxes drawn by Pale’s arrows fell immediately by his sword, only to vanish in a gray flash. Weed hit level 4. He decided to invest every stat bonus points in agility.
The higher the agility is, the more easy it is to dodge an enemy attack and more likely you are to hit the enemy. It is directly related to evasion and accuracy.
The iron sword in Weed’s possession was marvelous for a novice, providing extra leverage in strength. So he boldly invested 5 points in agility, instead of strengthening his avatar.
The hunting spree continued. Excited by the fast pace, Romuna and Irene could not believe their luck. They had never experienced such fantastic hunting.
“Surka, bring more foxes here.”
“Exactly. Just leave everything else to us. You can concentrate entirely on the bait.”
“Okay, Unni.”
Surka was busy drawing foxes to them. So was Pale.
If Weed had hunted by himself, he would have to roam in search of target monsters and often take a rest to replenish his stamina when it ran out. Instead, his party provided bait and a priest for him, which unarguably quickened the pace of hunting.
It’s not like a single play.
Back when Weed played The Continent of Magick, he had always been surrounded by monsters.
Weed used to walk in a dungeon populated by monsters and fight them as he pleased. He had logged on days and nights until he ran out of potions and herbs.
The inventory had been saddled with so many items that it interfered with his movement. Monsters had surprised him everywhere. Weed had fought on in a circle of monsters.
He had killed so many, and in return, been killed as many times.
Weed felt that a group game was far from the way he used to play. It was more effective, and he was having more fun. Their strategy soon backfired.
“Kyah!”
Surka made a deadly mistake. When she tried to bait a fox, she unintentionally caught a wolf’s attention.
While trying to run away, Surka screamed, “Run away, everyone!”
Growl
The wolf was chasing after Surka on four legs. Its monstrous muzzle dripped saliva.
While the rest faltered, Surka was constantly assaulted by the wolf. It was faster than a fox, easily gaining on her. It looked hopeless.
“I’ll rescue her. You should all run away. By the power of the Holy Spirit, restore her health. Healing Hand!”
Irene the priestess rejected the impulse to run for her life, and cast the Healing Hand over and over to refill Surka’s diminishing life.
“Damn it!”
After a moment’s indecision, Pale began shooting arrows at the wolf.
One, two, three shots. As soon as he loaded an arrow on his bow, he shot it. The multiple shots, his signature skill, flew at the wolf, but it hardly flinched.
Now that the wolf had registered the entire party as its enemy, it would eventually attack Irene and Pale after it had finished off Surka.
Then, what would Weed do? He held the iron sword and stepped forward.
Can I make it? Why not! At first sight, the wolf’s teeth and claws looked threatening.
Weed had bet that the wolf would throw its heavy weight on him and, rather than clawing, bite him in a crazed fashion.
“You’d better deal with me before anyone else,” Weed said, standing in the wolf’s way.
Weed didn’t expect the wolf to understand what he had said, but as if it knew from instinct that the deadliest enemy had just appeared, it turned its eyes on him.
Growl
The wolf leapt off the ground, straight at Weed.
Weed rolled to one side swiftly, out of the path where the wolf was charging, and swung the sword. Its teeth nearly slit his throat.
That scratch alone slashed 80 points of his life.
“Weed-nim, run away! My mana ran out, so I can’t help you with Healing Hand,” Irene shouted.
“Shoot. What kind of priestess doesn’t know how to manage her mana?” he said to himself.
Since Irene was fully assigned to healing, she should have always reserved a sufficient amount of mana in case of emergency. If not, someone could end up lying dead, or in the worst scenario, the entire party would face annihilation.
Weed had believed Irene must have had something up her sleeve when she volunteered to come to Surka’s rescue. To his dismay though, all that she, a priestess by nature, had was heart.
The current predicament didn’t give Weed any time to blame her. The wolf was growling at him.
After a few flames from Romuna, no more reinforcing magical power came flying from behind. Apparently, she had run out of mana.
Only Pale was left shooting arrows from a distance. The wolf got bloody, yet Pale’s futile attempts only prompted it to intensify its aggression.
“Bring it on, you bitch!” Weed swung the sword and confronted the wolf.
Howl
Yelping, the wolf leapt on him. From that time, Weed’s pose and moves changed drastically.
His legs were glued to the ground while his waist and shoulders rocked back and forth. Like a breeze, Weed let the fierce wolf pass by.
“I’ll be a fool if I die here.”
Weed was capable of predicting the wolf’s next move, and a single wound wasn’t as much as he had been afraid of.
“I know I can defeat it.”
Weed loosened his grip on the sword on purpose.
Wail
The wolf groaned in a cry of pain. Even after Weed had sacrificed a portion of his power in exchange for a higher speed, the physical damage delivered by his sword was substantial.
“Damn it!”
Weed was also wounded every time the wolf clawed at him. His life of 700 fell to 200.
He was already coated in his own blood.
“Sorry, Weed-nim! I can’t pin it down. It’s moving too fast!”
Pale’s low agility made it impossible to make a hit on the wolf, which moved like a streak of lightning.
“I’ll fight, too.”
Surka came to Weed. She had already been injured when she had been chased by the wolf, her life lower than half.
Stumbling with shaky legs, Weed said, “Now, listen. You guys all should run to safety while I can still cover you.”
“But…”
“It’s the only chance you have. Now!”
Pale and Surka looked at each other, but their legs showed no sign of fleeing.
Then, Weed murmured bleakly, “You fools! What’s the point of sacrificing your life for a stranger?”
Pale felt like crying. For the record, Weed could have escaped death if he had decided to. He could have outrun the wolf to the gate of the Citadel where the guards would protect him from the threat.
Instead, Weed had stepped up, held his sword and his ground, and faced the wolf for his teammates, who he had never seen hours before.
“Weed-nim.” Surka’s eyes were watering. She, innocent and sensitive, was deeply touched by Weed’s heroic act.
Staring at the wolf, Weed said firmly. “If you want to stay here, so be it. I’ll do my best to fight the bitch. Still, you must get the heck out of here the moment I get killed.”
“Yes.”
“Promise me you will.”
“Okay.”
Surka and Pale walked away, creating a stage, and Weed got down to a bloody fight against the wolf, which still posed a serious threat.
Weed’s life descended to 150 and before long, it went down to 70. The iron sword kept on missing the wolf by inches.
The wolf was bleeding so white that it seemed a single hit could knock it down, but Weed had failed to make the final strike so far.
Irene and Romuna realized that Weed’s life finally reached the life--risking moment, below ten percent.
Pale’s heart raced, and Surka’s pounded. They tried to attract aggression from the wolf, but it knew Weed was the one to kill, entirely neglecting minor players.
One more hit from the wolf, and Weed would die.
If Weed died, he would lose some items from his inventory, drop one or more levels and be penalized by having his access to Royal Road denied for the next twenty-four hours, all because Weed decided to sacrifice his life to save a bunch of strangers.
The wolf snickered, sensing it had the upper hand of his archenemy.
Growl
When the wolf leapt to kill Weed with its final strike, his sword, which had missed it repeatedly, finally tore its ribs.
Before Weed’s eyes, a cascade of message windows burst open.
You’ve leveled up!
Level up:
Sword Mastery [5]
+50% STR
+15% Agility
Skill:
You acquired a new skill, Engraving Knife Technique.
So many EXPs were pouring from the wolf that his level escalated to 5. Weed shook his head, half wondering.
“What’s the engraving knife technique? Skill window!”
? Identification (Lv. 1 0%): Enables you to learn the true value of unidentified items.
Mana consumption: 30.
? Sculpture (Lv. 1 0%): Enables you to carve or engrave various types of materials. Artworks of a high artistic value are worth a fortune. Easier to win a girl’s heart.
? Repair (Lv. 1 0%): Enables you to repair weapons and armors. Beyond Lv. 5, you can forge new weapons and gears.
? Handicraft (Lv. 1 0%): Has extra effects on various types of craft skills, and sword mastery.
? Sword (Lv. 5 0%): Increases attack power and hit rating for swords.
? Engraving Knife Technique (Lv. 1 0%): Enables you to carve the invisible, the intangible.
Mana consumption: 50 per second
The legend tells that Grand Master Zahab accidentally discovered a way of truth when he was practicing the sculptural art—that sculpture is an art of transforming all creations at the sculptor’s will. Zahab’s secret technique is passed down to his successor.
Weed checked the skill window and shook his head in disbelief.
I need to try this engraving knife technique to figure out what the heck it is. It swallows mana too badly. At my level, I can’t sustain it longer than two seconds flat.
The wolf had died, anyway.
Groan
Weed fell down to the ground, his face blank white. Then, Pale, Irene, Romuna and Surka ran to him.
The first words Weed uttered to his teammates were, “Surka, are you alright?”
“Weed-nim…”
Irene and Romuna were on the verge of bursting into tears.
Surka could not hide her tears.
Pale, the only man other than Weed, was at a loss for words, engulfed by a wave of emotion.
If a user’s life goes down below ten percent, he will die slowly.
Within a minute, Irene recovered some of her mana, and cast Healing Hand to drag Weed out of death’s grip.
“Thank you, Irene-nim”
“It’s my pleasure, Weed-nim”
The look between Weed and Irene warmed up; a sign that she was growing fond of him, the same goes for Romuna and Surka. To his surprise, moreover, Pale was addressing him with respect and admiration that the archer had never shown before.
“Let’s move on,” Weed said when he felt better.
“Are you okay?”
“Yup. Alive and well,” Weed said, rolling up his sleeve to expose his muscles.
Surka didn’t make the same mistake again. The party under Weed’s leadership created a striking record of sixty foxes in the next four hours.
Romuna, Irene, Pale and Surka all leveled up, as well as Weed, who achieved level 6.
Weed invested all the stat bonus points in agility.
“Whew. Good,” Romuna said, sweating hard as she felt drained by the excessive consumption of mana.
“We have to leave now. We’ve got to go to classes in the morning,”
“We should get together and hunt again. You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?” Romuna asked Weed, who nodded slightly.
“Can I add you as a friend in my list?” Surka asked.
Pale and Irene were grinning.
“Yup.” Weed added them to his Friends List, and said goodbye.
“These are your share.”
Weed received three silvers when they distributed the spoils from hunting. After they left, he went on hunting more foxes.
This was why he hated party plays. When things got hot, people left.
Weed looked for monsters as he had an hour left until sunrise. He overlooked easy prey such as raccoons and foxes, and left the boundary of the Citadel to enter a forest where wolves were reported to lurk in every shadow.
Howl
A pack of wolves emerged. They crouched and came close to Weed who was walking alone, their eyes gleaming in elation.
The system of Royal Road allowed monsters to level up by internal conflicts between them or by killing users, so the wolves coveted lone users. When the wolves looked in Weed’s eyes, though, they cowered instinctively.
“Those eyes…”
“This human doesn’t consider us his enemy.”
“He takes us for EXPs.”
“Nice EXPs. Great item drops. It’s what he wants from us.”
The wolves saw through Weed’s intentions. Worse, his will to fight made them recoil in fear.
Yap Yap They quickly turned tail to flee.
“How dare you.”
The iron sword knew no mercy, and Weed knew no honor. He openly stabbed the backs of the retreating wolves, cornered them with nowhere else to go, and beat each and every of them to a pulp.
“You sons of bitches, come on!”
The moment that the sword slashed the air, another wolf fell into despair. Swift and merciless. Weed’s extraordinary sword techniques terrorized the wolves.
So why had he fought bitterly against a single wolf when his teammates were around him?
On the edge of an imminent and unavoidable death, Weed had made the final strike to kill the wolf. In the eyes of his teammates, it was a lucky one. This mystery was kept by Weed.
Weed was done with the wolves as soon as the sun rose in the morning. He left the battlefield and headed for Counselor Rodriguez’s manor.