8.

  Bark exploded in a spray of splinters, ringing off his armor as Erak drove the werewolf through the corner of the tree. Wood broke apart, littering the forest floor in forearm sized chunks of wood as the wolf yipped and tried to run away from him. Its claws dug through the forest floor, sending sprays of dirt to rain on Erak as he rushed to finish off the last of the pack.

  The dragonbone sword was currently buried in a tree, pinning a wolf there as Sammus continued to try to cut through its regeneration. The discord blade was in Erak’s hand, dripping blood on the loose dirt as he loomed over the wolf. It turned its head back toward him, red eyes wide as its jowls pulled back to show off a wide array of teeth as it growled at Erak.

  Erak brought the blade down with finality, the wolf's head coming free and rolling away. He kicked it, sending the head flying away and through the forest and waited over the decapitated body as he waited for Essence to come rushing through him. He sighed with pleasure as he turned to go back toward the scene of the fight.

  The pack had been numerous, vicious, and borderline feral. They had come rushing through the woods like a tide, claws and fangs flashing in the moonlight. Now the forest was wrecked. Ice climbing up trees, ground furrowed where blows had been exchanged, and body parts strewn around like loose confetti.

  The wolves had come, but they had not found prey.

  Erak had a satisfied smile on his face as he walked by the strewn about monster parts. Even the one he had left for Sammus was finally dead, hacked apart by the prince and Pomp. Erak had felt the faintest trickle of Essence earlier when the creature had died moments ago.

  “I think I know why everyone says to use silver,” Sammus said, panting on the ground. His blade was next to him, drenched in blood. Pomp was curled near him, nearly ephemeral even with Erak having used his skill on him.

  “Hmmm?” Erak hummed to the prince as he went to where his sword was pinning a mass of bloodied flesh. He reached over, grasping the pommel in one hand and pulling it free with a quick tug. The pile of mutilated meat hit the ground with a squelch and Erak flicked the blade, sending blood off of the bone in a spray against the leaves.

  “It would be much easier with silver, I believe. Rather than all this hacking and hacking and hacking,” Sammus said as he waved his hand back and forth in the air. Pomp huffed in amusement.

  The dragon rose slowly, walking over to him and shedding his corporeal form to slide back inside of Erak’s armor. A chill ran over the giant warrior as Pomp sank into him. Erak sheathed the discord blade after cleaning it off, letting the dragonbone sword sit on his shoulder.

  Sammus just lay there, exhausted from the fight. Erak peered over the tired prince and leaned over him. Sammus closed his eyes and slowly his heavy breathing slowed down until he no longer sounded like a bellows. He opened his eyes and held out a hand and Erak obliged him, grabbing the small elf’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

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  The prince weighed less than Erak thought he would. The slender man landed lightly on his feet. The prince cleaned off his blade as he walked around the war torn battlefield.He whistled low and long, the shrill sound echoing across the ground.

  “You know, at the moment, it didn’t seem like there were that many of them,” Sammus said. Then his eyes took on a distant look and his whistle was longer and louder this time. Erak looked at the strewn corpses and grunted in agreement.

  “Will you do me a favor and watch out for me while I go through this. I have quite a few things to look at,” Sammus said as he sat with his back to a tree, not really giving Erak a chance to say no.

  Erak looked around the forest, waiting patiently as the prince went through his notifications. He had his own list, but he didn’t mind waiting. He went through the remnants of the wolves, pushing aside pieces of corpses to see if he could find any remnants of their past. The alert had said they were cursed and the people and they should have something left of their pre-cursed lives.

  He found scraps of clothes. A folded leather wallet that had somehow managed to remain in a partially torn pocket. He went through it, flicking out identification papers and sighed as he saw the palace identification. It had belonged to a Royal Guardsman. He kept going through the corpses, but there was nothing left besides scraps of uniforms.

  A pulse of Essence rippled behind him and he turned behind to look at Sammus. The elf looked hearty and hale, power radiating off of him as a vigor had returned to his previously drawn out features.

  “I can understand why you are always chasing after this feeling, now. Never had that many levels at once, with skills and a title to boot. It is invigorating. I assume you have to level now as well?” Sammus said with a smile.

  Erak nodded and finally looked at all his notifications. He didn’t need to rest against the tree like the more fragile prince did, simply standing at rest with his feet apart as he looked over the boost in levels. The werewolves had been good for that at least.

  Erak Bloodsworn lvl. 28

  Strength: 70

  Vigor: 40

  Durability: 40

  Perception: 25

  Processing: 23

  Pomp’s words were ringing in his ears as he assigned the points. Even in the battle he had started to notice it, that the beasts were so fast that he couldn’t keep up with the blows at times. The points to perception and processing were there to try to keep up with the speed of the monsters and enemies he was seeing.

  The points to strength were so he could keep throwing monsters through walls and splitting them in half. The continuous boosts to strength hadn’t failed him yet.

  “You're already done? No skills?” Sammus asked as Erak swayed just a bit as the rush of Essence finished its work.

  Erak shook his head and then offered the paperwork he had found to Sammus. Sammus skimmed it, raising it up to the moonlight so he could read it. His lips pursed in thought and he let the papers slide out of his hand.

  “Derek Hnol, he was a member of my father’s personal guard. It seems we are on the right track. Are we done with the forest and hunting?”

  “Is the forest done with us?” Erak signed with one hand, his movements clumsy.

  “Don’t do that, I have no time for poetics,” Sammus said with a soft laugh.

  “Which way then?” Erak asked. The thick canopy and chaotic fight had left him slightly disoriented. The running fight had taken a toll on all off the surroundings, any landmarks left nothing more than splintered ruins or overturned boulders.

  “Are you lost?” Sammus said, his smile wasn’t fading, reflected and glowing in the moonlight.

  Erak just stared at him. And stared. And stared. When Sammus didn't speak, Erak took off in a random direction.

  “Fine, it’s that way,” Sammus pointed in the opposite direction from where Erak had started to walk.