The pulsating malice emanating from the central tent grew stronger with each step Akira took. The air seemed to vibrate with dark energy, thick and suffocating. Athena’s voice guided him, calm and unwavering.

  “Be cautious. The source of this magic is powerful. I am analyzing its properties.”

  Akira crouched behind a fallen crate, his swords ready. His body still hummed with the lingering effects of his newfound skill, though the rush of Autopilot Mode had left him feeling slightly disoriented.

  “What am I dealing with here?” Akira asked under his breath.

  “The magic radiating from the tent is an advanced form of necromancy,” Athena replied. “It is intertwined with blood magic, likely used to siphon life force from living creatures. It’s dangerous—approach with care.”

  Akira’s grip tightened on his blades. The thought of such a vile practice only fueled his determination. “And the wolves?”

  “They are directly linked to the ritual. Their life force is being drained to sustain the caster's power. If you do not act quickly, they will not survive.”

  The Wolves' Plight

  Akira shifted his gaze toward the cages. The Blood-Tinged Wolf cubs whimpered and growled, their shimmering red-tinged fur dulled and matted. Some lay motionless, their breaths shallow.

  “There are around two hundred wolves,” Athena said. “Freeing them will take time. It may be wise to neutralize the caster first.”

  Akira nodded. “Understood. What’s the best way in?”

  Athena paused briefly, her tone precise. “The tent’s rear is guarded by a weaker protective ward. It is designed to alert the caster but lacks defensive strength. I can guide you in disabling it silently.”

  “Let’s do it,” Akira replied.

  The Tent of Malice

  Akira crept toward the tent’s rear, his movements swift and quiet. A faint, shimmering barrier surrounded the entrance, pulsating with dark energy.

  “Place your hand against the ward,” Athena instructed. “Focus your Frostfire magic on disrupting its frequency.”

  Akira followed the guidance, his frost and flame energies converging in his palm. The ward crackled and flickered before dissipating silently.

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  “You’re clear to enter,” Athena confirmed.

  Sliding inside, Akira was immediately struck by the oppressive atmosphere. The interior was dimly lit, the only light coming from a blood-red crystal hovering in the center of the room. It pulsed with energy, connected by threads of magic to the wolves outside.

  Beneath the crystal stood the caster: a towering figure cloaked in shadow, its form shifting and flickering as if it weren’t entirely bound to this plane.

  The Confrontation

  The caster turned toward Akira, its voice a guttural growl that reverberated through the tent. “So, the intruder dares to enter my sanctum. Foolish mortal.”

  Akira raised his swords, their opposing elements flaring. “Your ritual ends here. Release the wolves, or I’ll end you.”

  The caster laughed, the sound dripping with malice. “You think you can stop me? I have consumed more power than you can fathom!”

  The caster raised its hands, and dark tendrils of magic lashed out toward Akira. He leaped aside, his frost sword cutting through one of the tendrils while his flame sword deflected another.

  “Athena, any advice?” he called out.

  “Target the crystal,” she responded immediately. “It is the source of their power. Destroying it will weaken the caster significantly.”

  Akira nodded and charged toward the crystal, but the caster intercepted him, summoning a wave of spectral warriors.

  A Desperate Battle

  The tent became a battlefield as Akira fought off the spectral warriors, each strike of his blades dispelling their ethereal forms. The caster continued to hurl spells, dark orbs of energy exploding around him.

  Akira’s movements became more erratic as the fight dragged on, exhaustion setting in. “I can’t keep this up,” he muttered.

  “Trust me,” Athena said. “Switching to Autopilot Mode.”

  Once again, Akira felt his body move on its own. He darted through the battlefield with incredible precision, weaving between attacks and dispatching the spectral warriors with ease. His blades danced, their flames and frost creating a dazzling display as they clashed against the caster’s magic.

  In a series of perfectly calculated moves, Akira closed the gap between himself and the crystal. With a powerful dual slash, he struck the crystal, his Frostfire magic surging into it.

  The crystal shattered, releasing a shockwave of energy that sent both Akira and the caster flying.

  The Power of Athena

  The caster roared in fury, its form flickering wildly. Without the crystal’s power, it was rapidly losing strength. Akira, now back in control of his body, pushed himself to his feet.

  “It’s vulnerable,” Athena said. “Finish it.”

  Akira didn’t hesitate. He charged forward, his swords blazing as he delivered the final blow. The caster let out a chilling scream before disintegrating into nothingness.

  The Wolves' Freedom

  As the caster’s magic dissipated, the cages outside clicked open, releasing the Blood-Tinged Wolves. They stumbled out, their strength slowly returning.

  Akira stepped out of the tent, his body aching but his spirit triumphant. The wolves looked at him with cautious gratitude, their crimson eyes glowing faintly.

  Athena’s voice broke the silence. “The immediate threat is gone, but this is only the beginning. There is much more to uncover, Akira.”

  Akira sheathed his swords, looking at the wolves and the remnants of the camp. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But for now, I’ve done what I can.”

  With the wolves following at a distance, Akira began his trek back to the Beastling village, the weight of his newfound skill—and the questions it raised—heavy on his mind.