02 White Wolf

Chapter: 2 Vol: 1

"Asterios... Asterios!" It was still dark when Asterios opened his eyes, while still half-asleep he replied in a hoarse voice, "What is it?"

"Get your things, we're leaving," Argus said, walking quickly out of the tent, crushing any attempt by the boy to question him. His voice carried a certain tension and anxiety that Asterios had never seen in his father before.

Even though still groggy, Asterios forced his body to stand up and followed his father out of the tent, wondering internally why they were in such a hurry. "Aren't we going to dismantle the camp first?" asked Asterios, taking slow and weak steps, his face dominated by drowsiness.

"We don't need those things anymore," his father said as he untied the horses from the old tree near the camp. "Come, the moon is clear, so we don't need torches," Argus continued after untying the horses, grabbing Asterios and placing him on one of the horses before mounting the other.

A shiver ran down Asterios' spine. The horses began to grow restless, snorting and neighing loudly as they threatened to prance and rebel.

"Come on!" his father shouted, using the reins to jerk his horse and signal that it was time to run. Asterios didn't even have to do the same, as his horse quickly went from light trots to an intense run, following his father along the same trail Julius had followed with his men the night before.

Then, before the camp was even out of sight, a shrill howl suddenly echoed through the air. The chills Asterios felt increased, the feeling of being face to face with death again taking over his body. His struggle to turn around and face whatever was chasing them was cut short when he heard his father's low, authoritative voice, "Don't look back and keep moving! I'll deal with it."

Asterios didn't even have time to worry about his father. Overcome with fear and anxiety, he grabbed the reins of his horse and held them tightly as he galloped off at a speed he had never experienced before. Realizing that his son wouldn't question him, Argus jumped from his still moving horse, grabbing the spear on his back and stabbing its blade into the ground to stop his body propelled by the kinetic energy of the horse. His feet ripped the ground where he landed, and his body only came to a complete stop about 10 meters from the point where he touched the ground.

When he finally stood up and regained his composure, he could face the creature he was chasing: a wolf more than ten feet tall. Its coat was as white as snow, and its blue eyes reflected an intense glow, giving it a certain divine air.

"A Aether beast!" Argus exclaimed as he felt the powerful flow of Aether circulating in the beast's eyes. It was still sending out casual probes, which were like pulses of Aether. It was these probes that allowed him to sense the approaching danger.

"Yes and no," a clear, soft voice replied, startling Argus and causing him to take a small leap backwards. Laughing at Argus' reaction, the creature continued, "I am, at least on a minor level, what you humans would define as an ascended beast."

"I have heard about such creatures," Argus replied, regaining his composure after encountering such a legendary being, but still not letting his guard down. He had already read the Aether of this being; its level was slightly below his own, but it was still powerful enough to cause him great harm should he make a mistake.

The strangest question for him was how this creature got there, as he had placed many men to patrol the area. They were more than capable of detecting his Aether signature and stopping it before he could even feel it himself. The strange feeling of being deceived by the men he had asked to protect the area slowly took over him, and anger exploded in his heart.

The creature then spoke, "You killed one of my children, skinned her, and left her remains to be devoured by lowly scavengers. I must say, that is not a pleasant sight." His eyes coldly fixed on Argus. There was no hatred in his gaze, but rather a certain desire - not for revenge, but for a good life-and-death battle.

Argus understood this feeling and knew that there was no way they could both get out of this fight alive. Deep down, he wished for that too. The image of his son disappeared from his mind as he finally went on guard. His eyes resonated with the wolf's desire for battle as he let his Aether flow uncontrollably, forming a crimson aura around him. Then he positioned his feet in a wide stance, holding the spear firmly with both hands and pointing it directly at the great wolf. "Your son had to die so that mine could live," Argus said, his tone of voice as cold as ever.

"Bullshit!" the wolf replied with a growl, advancing violently toward the man who now appeared to be no more than a small rodent in the face of his brutality.

Argus did the same, his feet sinking into the ground under his own weight, and the initial momentum of the run leaving a small crater where he started. They both closed the distance of over 50 meters in less than 2 seconds. At this moment, man and beast collided. However, the long and cruel battle expected by the wolf did not take place.

At the last second before the collision, Argus retracted all of the Aether from his aura, forcing all of its power into his spear. It was a risky maneuver that would leave his body completely unprotected, but it was effective. His blade sliced through the beast's aura as if it were nothing but butter, piercing and piercing through the wolf's chest, destroying its internal organs with a burst of Aether and killing it instantly. The entire battle lasted about 3 seconds and ended in a single exchange.

Firmly planting the spear to the ground, Argus used it as a base to stop the colossal body of the 500+ pound wolf from falling on his head. The warm, Aether-rich blood of the beast flowed over the spear's handle, dripping into his hands and onto his face, reminding him to snap out of his stupor. Then, with a leap, he threw himself backwards, quickly escaping from under the beast's body. His spear, now unresisted by the constant flow of Aether, broke in half, taking the beast's body down to the ground.

Argus let out a cold sigh. That had been a foolish and incredibly risky strategy, but he was forced into it. His hands trembled and his body seemed to catch fire as the Aether stopped flowing, and he felt a terrible pain. Dropping to his knees, he tried his best to remain calm as a steady stream of blood poured out of his mouth and nose.

That was the reason why he chose such a risky strategy. He was sick. The Aether in his body was slowly eating away at him, and when used at high intensity, the corrosion accelerated in unprecedented ways. He would be a dried corpse on the ground in less than 15 minutes of combat if he tried to stay in a peak condition for so long. Grunting softly, he remembered what the doctors said when he was diagnosed with this disease. They told him that he could live for another 30 or 40 years if he didn't use his Aether. But if he used it too often, he could hardly live for more than 2 years.

Unfortunately, fate was cruel. He had strength, talent, youth, and ambition, all within his grasp to be someone who would rock this world. But, stricken with an incurable disease, what choice would he have but to place his last point of hope in his only heir?

"In the name of the emperor, we fight," Argus said, having already recovered from his initial shock. He finally stood up and continued, "In the name of the empire, we die." Before taking his first steps, he uttered, "And so we march on. In life or death, we march on..." As he finished his chant, he stopped, closed his eyes, and felt the gentle breeze, before heading back down the trail with quick, steady steps.

After more than 30 minutes of tireless galloping, Asterios finally stopped, as the horses showed their first signs of fatigue. At this point, he had already left the forest and was in a lowland region. The trail he was following opened up into a wide road with crops to his left and right, indicating the human presence in that region. Getting off his horse and tying it to a nearby tree trunk, Asterios sat down at one of the corners of the road and decided to wait for his father. Anxiety and frustration dominated his face as he played with a branch.

The sun was about to rise, and its first rays were illuminating the horizon when he finally saw the bloodied figure of his father. Asterios then stood up and ran towards Argus, who was walking calmly towards him, holding back as much as possible his impulses to jump at his father. "Father... are you all right?" he finally exclaimed, his voice full of pure, childlike concern.

"I'm fine, it's not my blood. Where's my horse?" Argus questioned, just after reassuring his son, sweeping his gaze and finding no trace of his horse beside Asterios'.

"I don't know. We got separated in the darkness of the forest," Asterios replied, following his father.

"All right, let's get going. There should be a creek just ahead where we can get cleaned up," Argus said as he reached the spot where Asterios had tied the remaining horse. After untying it, he finally mounted the horse, grabbing Asterios with one hand and placing him on the horse's saddle. Father and son continued their journey toward Vasbrusk without any obstacles."