In the pre-dawn darkness, James was ready in his warm and flexible training suit. He wore sturdy leather boots and had the old knife Frey had given him tucked securely at his waist. It wasn't the best knife, but right now, it was the only companion he could trust.
As he was about to leave his room, the door to Liana's room next door creaked open. She was in a simple nightgown, her face still looking slightly sleepy. In her hand was a small cloth sachet that gave off the fresh, pleasant scent of some kind of herb.
"Just in case... I put some insect-repelling herbs inside. At least it should keep you from being too annoyed," she said, handing it to him. "Be safe."
James took it with a sense of gratitude that was hard to describe. "I'll be careful," he said with a nod, before heading downstairs.
At the back door of the bar, Ann was lightly stretching, warming up for the new day. She stopped when she saw James walk out. She didn't say much, just met his eyes and gave him a slight nod, but her gaze was full of confidence. It was her way of encouraging him.
Brack was already waiting for him there. His towering figure in the morning shadows looked more formidable than usual. "Follow me… and don't fall behind," he ordered in a flat tone, before leading James out of the still-slumbering city, heading towards the dense forest, which was covered in snow and swallowed by silence.
As they walked deeper into the forest, the clamor of the city faded away completely, leaving only the sound of their footsteps crunching on the snow and the wind whistling through the tall pines. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of awe and unseen danger.
It was then that Brack suddenly stopped walking. He pointed to the snow on the ground before them.
"Look here," he said softly. "The tracks are still fresh. The edges are still sharp, which means their owner just passed by not long ago. And look at the depth of the prints… it tells you the body weight is considerable. It's heading that way."
Brack began his practical lesson. He taught James to read the forest as if it were a book. He taught him to notice unnaturally broken branches, indicating something taller than the ground had recently pushed past them. He taught him to use a saliva-wetted finger to test the wind's direction.
Because in a hunt… a hunter must always stay downwind so the prey doesn't catch their scent.
Every step in the forest was a new lesson for James. He began to use his heightened senses to absorb every detail around him.
After following the tracks for some time, the atmosphere around them began to change. Ancient pine trees grew thicker and taller than before. The sunlight was almost completely blocked by their canopies, leaving only patches of light that shone down and reflected off the snowy ground.
Brack raised a hand, signaling a stop. He moved closer to James and whispered, his voice raspy but powerful, "That faint foul scent on the wind… and those fresh scratch marks on the trees… its lair is near here."
James's heart pounded. Nervousness and excitement rushed in at the same time. This was his first real test.
Brack pointed to a dense thicket ahead that was darker than usual. "Our target is in there… a Shadow Wolf," he said. "You've read the information on it. Use what you've learned… find its weakness."
With that, Brack stepped back and leaned against a large tree at a distance, leaving James to face it alone.
James's heart hammered. He took a deep breath to control his nerves. He drew Frey's old knife from its sheath and slowly crept into the thicket as quietly as possible.
And finally, he saw it… a jet-black wolf was gnawing on the carcass of a wild rabbit. Its eyes were as red as glowing embers, and its black fur blended perfectly with the shadows of the undergrowth.
James recalled the information he had read… its weakness was fire and light. But he didn't have those things right now. He had to use the environment to his advantage. He noticed a suitably sized rock nearby and slowly picked it up.
He threw the rock to the left of the Shadow Wolf. The sound of the rock hitting a tree drew its attention instantly. The Shadow Wolf whipped its head towards the sound, wary.
And that was the moment James needed!
He burst from his hiding spot, charging at it from the right. The Shadow Wolf, realizing its mistake a split second too late, turned and bared its fangs, but James had already closed the distance. He used the knife in his hand to stab upwards into its underbelly—an unarmored weak spot—with all his might!
A pained howl echoed through the forest. It thrashed violently, sending James flying, but he managed to roll away, narrowly dodging the claws that swiped back at him.
The fight was clumsy. James used the agility he had gained from his training to dodge and find opportunities to strike the original wound again.
Finally, the Shadow Wolf's body gave one last violent spasm before going still.
James stood panting heavily, his body covered in scratches. But he had done it… he had taken it down by himself.
Brack walked over, his expression placid, but there was a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Not bad," he said curtly. "Go examine its carcass. The lesson doesn't end when it's dead."
James nodded and walked over to look at the Shadow Wolf's carcass in detail. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping from his first real fight.
"Killing it is only half the job," Brack's voice came from behind. He walked up with a large skinning knife in his hand. "The other half is learning from it, and not letting its carcass go to waste."
Brack knelt beside the wolf's body. He showed James the difference between the various muscle groups, how to carefully skin it without damaging the valuable, jet-black fur. He taught James how to extract the fangs and claws, which were strong materials, and also pointed out a small poison gland in the neck that, while not fatal, could paralyze an enemy for a short time.
"A good hunter leaves nothing behind," Brack said, working with practiced skill. "Every part of a demon has its value. The pelt, fangs, blood… even the bones can be made into fertilizer or charms. You have to learn to see the 'value' in everything you hunt."
James absorbed every lesson like a sponge. He followed Brack's instructions clumsily, his hands getting stained with warm blood and the strong, gamey smell, but he didn't feel disgusted.
As Brack used the tip of his knife to pry out the still-warm heart and hold it in his hand, James stared at it. The system, deep within him, responded, and a message instantly appeared in his consciousness.
[Material Detected – Gloom Wolf Blood Progenitor (4%) Colorless - Grade 2] [Bloodline compatibility: 1 bloodline]
'Colorless… but Grade 2,' James thought. It meant this wolf's bloodline wasn't a noble one, but a common bloodline with a much higher purity than what he had seen in the market.
The fact that it was only compatible with a single bloodline indicated its specificity. This was the reality of the hunter's world… every material had its own value and its own mystery.
After they had collected all the valuable parts, Brack pointed to the remains. "Don't leave it like this," he said flatly. "The smell of blood will attract everything in this forest to us… both things we can handle, and things we can't."
He then taught James the proper way to dispose of a carcass. He didn't burn it, which would create smoke and attract attention from a distance. Instead, he taught him to dig a reasonably deep pit, bury all the remains completely, and then cover the spot with another layer of snow and leaves until it looked as if nothing had happened.
"Let's move on," Brack said curtly. "The lesson isn't over."
They traveled deeper into the forest again, but this time, James wasn't just following. He tried to absorb Brack's every action. Every step the large man took was full of meaning. His eyes constantly scanned the environment, never overlooking even the smallest sign. He would periodically stop to listen to the wind rustling through the treetops to catch the direction of any unusual sounds.
James was beginning to understand that being a hunter wasn't just about fighting; it was about merging with the environment.
Time passed slowly. The sunlight began to change from a soft yellow to a deep orange, casting the last rays of the day through the tree branches. Brack stopped walking and looked up at the changing sky.
"The sun is setting… We're not going back yet."
James whipped his head around to look at him in shock.
"A hunter isn't just skilled in the daytime," Brack continued, his voice as placid as ever, but firmer than before. "They must be able to survive in the dark. This is your next lesson… surviving the night in the forest."