Ultimate Level 1

“There’s a ghost wolf!” someone shouted.

“Bloody ogre tits,” Roan roared as he came running to where Max was, holding a torch in his left hand.

The horses were going crazy as a couple of men tried to calm them down. They were kicking and tugging at their ropes, aware of the danger that was closing in on them.

“I haven’t seen these, how are they worse than other wolves?”

Roan looked at Max and grimaced.

“Faster, stronger, and they don’t run off. I have never heard of them running away.”

Roan looked at Max and saw how he was standing. Everyone else was about to piss themselves and yet Max wasn’t flinching.

“Seth, can you fight them?”

Max nodded, watching the wolves slowly closing in on them.

They had spread out preparing, it looked, to encircle the camp.

“We can’t run, and I doubt they will chase a horse or two if you set them free. The look in that one wolf’s eyes tells me it's here for us. We either fight and try to live or die.”

The moon was out, and the light it provided on a cloudless night lit up the backs of the wolves with its glow as they walked. The white one seemed to glow, answering Max’s question about why it was called a ghost wolf. It looked eerie in this light, and its eyes felt blacker than the cloak he had tried on earlier.

What I wouldn’t give for a shield.

Adjusting his grip, Max took a deep breath and moved out between the wagons.

“What are you doing? That's a fool's move!”

Ignoring Roan’s shout, Max cast his spell, his hands hidden and his spear tip pointed away.

He felt the enchantment, and he cursed, knowing what he had to do.

Glancing over his shoulder, Max saw Roan’s eyes. The man was terrified.

Max was just as scared but there was no other option. If he stayed in the wagons, people would die. He could try and wait for the very end and use berserker, but there was no telling if he might target one of the men. If he did…

“Stay back. No one comes near me, no matter what!”

He heard a little protesting, but Roan shouted at the men to stay back.

I got one chance… I’ll have to blow everything, but maybe…

Max saw the wolves pause a step as he came toward them. The pack continued to spread out, letting him draw closer as they prepared to surround him.

He had seen wolves attack sheep and dogs before. He knew how a pack worked. They would surround him and attack, there was no moment to wait.

As the wolves began to circle, Max darted toward the right, his speed surprising the wolf he was nearest to, closing the distance in just three steps. As he drew near the wolf, it opened its jaws and bared its teeth.

[Berserker Activated]

The night went from darkness with a faint white glow to a blood-red glow over everything. Their grey coats now reflected a red tint as Max lept forward, his vision locked on the wolf before him.

His speed and strength made him feel alive. Though he couldn’t see it, a smile was on his face as his spear covered the distance between him and the wolf preparing to lunge at him.

The spear found its mark, plunging into the open mouth and down into the wolf's throat. It reacted, trying to jerk its head back as it closed its teeth, with the spearhead shattering every tooth that came down on the shaft.

As the tip cleared the mouth, Max thrust again, this time right into its head, shattering its skull.

[ 10 Mana Points Consumed ]

Turning to the left, Max saw another wolf coming toward him. His eyes fixed upon it, and as the wolf leaped, Max slashed with his spear, the tip slicing it open from mouth to tail. The power of his swing had ripped its body almost in half.

It fell to his left, thudding against the ground and spraying him with blood.

[ 9 Mana Points Consumed ]

He howled in delight until, a moment later, he felt something grabbing his leg from behind.

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Turning, Max saw a wolf grabbing his calf and trying its best to shake his leg.

Max’s spear spun so fast in the air that a spray of blood spun around him like a waterwheel, blood flying into the sky and to the ground.

A metal point came rushing straight down, with a crunch of bones as it was impaled through its head, Max’s spear pinning it to the ground. Max yanked his leg from the wolf’s jaws, unable to acknowledge the cold sensation that came over him.

[ 18 Hit Points Consumed ]

Another wolf hit him from his left, clamping down on his new bracers, surprised to find itself unable to pull Max down to the ground.

Rage consumed him as Max saw the next victim enter his vision. He jerked his arm up with all his strength, lifting the wolf off the ground, its body floating into the air.

His fingers danced along the shaft of his spear, letting him adjust his grip so he could yank it free from the corpse on the ground and drive it at the soft underbelly of the wolf. Yanking with his left arm as he drove the spear upward in his right hand, he skewered the wolf, who, until that moment, had not had time to even think about letting go of the bracer it was biting.

It yelped, its jaws flinging open as Max brought his left hand to join his right on the shaft and swung with at the ground with such power that when he suddenly stopped, it tore the spear free from the wolf’s flesh.

The wolf crashed against the ground, bones shattering as it landed head first, snapping its neck.

Max’s eyes scanned around him, finding a wolf coming at him from the right. Planting his feet, he started to swing his spear like a club, sliding his hands down as his hips created even more power for his attack.

The tip and end of the shaft connected with the wolf’s head as it tried to dodge, unable to appreciate the true speed of the attack, and its head exploded in a mist of tissue, blood, and bones.

Continuing the swing, Max’s eyes landed upon a wolf behind him about seven yards away. It was frozen in confusion, having seen carnage that it had never expected.

Max was next to it before it could blink. Those precious meters were gone in three steps. The wolf never had time to register the spear that destroyed its head in one blurred strike.

Spinning around like a top, Max could only focus on the last grey wolf coming at him. Max’s rage prevented him from even acknowledging the ghost wolf behind the grey one.

No hesitation came as the wolf darted to the left, providing an opening to attack its side.

Max ran, each step sending him further than he would have been able to imagine had his mind been able to comprehend what he was doing.

The wolf kept running, but it only took four seconds for Max to reach it, to press his spear into its side and run it into the ground.

As he did, he felt something on his right arm, the spear wrenching from his right hand.

The grey wolf before him was still alive, and Max swung the spear with his left arm, trying to smash into the injured wolf as his arm was pulling him away.

He roared in anger that he was being denied the blood he desired. The blood he deserved.

Another strike with the spear and an overhand slam hit the injured wolf but didn’t finish it off.

Max couldn’t turn to see what was yanking on him, he couldn’t feel the pain in his arm. All he could see was the wolf on the ground. All he knew was he needed to kill it.

Unable to reach it anymore, Max planted his feet, flipped the spear in his left hand, and hurled it at the wolf, watching it impale it through the heart.

[ 31 Hit Points Consumed ]

[ 7 Stamina Consumed ]

Max’s head snapped to the right, seeing a massive set of teeth gnawing on his elbow.

The wolf was almost as tall as he was. It was strong, and it had teeth as long as daggers.

Max let out a laugh that would have convinced most he was crazy.

His tiny frame shifted, his feet planting themselves on the ground as Max felt the hot breath coming from the nose of the wolf that was only inches from his face. Blood poured out as it clamped down on his arm, yanking with its body and legs.

Max drove his thumb into its black left eye, going deep into the socket.

His other four fingers clamped down on top of its skull and began to squeeze.

The wolf yelped, opening its jaws and trying to pull away, but Max had a grip that wouldn’t be broken. Blood poured from its eye socket as he squeezed his fingers together and began to turn his wrist. Bones began to crack.

Max lifted his right arm, unsure of why it wasn’t working how he wanted, but he still managed to grab the wolf by its throat as it fought to pull away again.

Yanking down with his right hand and tearing the opposite way with his left, a cracking sound came as the top of the wolf’s skull was torn free.

It shook for a moment in his right hand, the weight of it being too much and making Max drop it to the ground.

He couldn’t hold on but the wolf wasn’t going anywhere.

Max spun as the creature fell to the ground and delivered a kick to its head. Another crack rang out as bones shattered. Two more kicks fell, and then Max began to beat on it with his left hand.

Somehow, the creature was still alive.

He lifted his hand once more, preparing to deliver another blow when the world shifted. He stumbled, his senses coming back as the red rage vanished.

Max saw his hand covered in blood. His right arm felt like it was on fire and he noticed the massive holes from where the wolf had bitten him.

He heard a whine coming from the creature at his feet.

It hurt more than Max wanted to admit as he reached for the dagger with his left hand, his right arm hanging limply by his side.

Finally getting the dagger free, he moved around the body of the white wolf and saw its brain partially exposed out of the hole he had torn open.

Needing to end this and stop the blood and pain he felt, Max drove the dagger into its brain, feeling it shake only once before what he longed for washed over him.

[ 1 Strength Consumed ]

[ 43 Hit Points Consumed ]

Dropping to his knees, Max felt refreshed. He saw his arm, without a scratch but covered in blood.

He heard voices shouting.

Turning toward them, Max saw the men at the edge of the wagons. He saw the torch Roan was holding and could see the look of confusion on the man's face.

“Goblin shite,” Max muttered.

Activating the dimensional storage, he pulled out the backpack, pretended to dig through it, and then put on a show of him drinking something.

Once done, he returned the backpack to storage and stood up.

Retrieving his spear, he began walking toward the men, who had yet to move.

This is going to be one hell of a drinking story…