Unholy Player-Chapter 48: Hunt of the Savage

Birds chirped gently, playing beneath the warm sunlight. Leaves trembled with life under a calm breeze, and amidst it all, Adyr stood still, like the only lifeless thing in a living world.

For the past hour, the cave entrance had remained silent. No sane wild animal dared approach a den known to house a predator pack. The area was completely still.

Then, finally, movement.

"Right on time," Adyr murmured with satisfaction.

A group—twelve wolves to be exact—emerged cautiously from the cave, scanning their surroundings.

Compared to the old wolf he had fought yesterday, they looked younger and healthier. That didn’t necessarily make them stronger, but their condition was clearly better.

One of them, however, stood out.

Larger than the others, with a fiercer presence. Its movements were confident and deliberate, and the way the rest of the pack behaved around it made it obvious—this was the new alpha.

The wolves gathered briefly at the entrance, then, following the alpha’s lead, dashed into the forest. It was hunting time. Based on Adyr’s observations, they wouldn’t return for at least two hours.

Now it was his move.

He dropped swiftly from the tree and approached the cave. There were no sounds or signs of life from within, but the tracks outside told a different story. The pack’s family was definitely still inside.

Adyr moved carefully. The cave wasn’t brightly lit, but it wasn’t dark enough to obscure his vision. Shafts of sunlight filtered through cracks in the ceiling, warming and faintly illuminating the interior.

The ground was mostly dry, covered with compacted earth, scattered animal bones, and a few that looked unmistakably humanoid.

He kept walking, guard up. The main fighters had left, but he was sure at least two adult wolves remained inside. Even pregnant, they were still dangerous. And so far, he hadn’t seen any trace of a Spark. It was still a possibility.

Step by step, silent and patient, he advanced—until a sound ahead caught his attention. Moments later, he saw them.

In a wider chamber, lit by sunlight pouring through the ceiling, a handful of wolf pups were chasing each other and tumbling across the ground.

Their jet-black fur and sharp features marked them as descendants of the same bloodline. Yet their playful, tongue-lolling joy made them look more like domestic dogs than wild predators.

A little further off, under a wide beam of light, two adult wolves lay with their eyes closed, seemingly sunbathing. But Adyr wasn’t fooled by the appearance of rest.

Their ears twitched constantly, reacting to even the slightest noise. They were fully alert, ready to protect their young.

They looked far weaker than the old alpha, Adyr noted.

Not just smaller in size and muscle mass, the bulging of their stomachs made it clear. They were pregnant and nowhere near their prime strength or speed.

Moving silently, Adyr scanned the area without alerting the wolves. The system even pinged him with a notification, recognizing his stealth and offering to upgrade the talent to level two—but he dismissed it. He didn’t need it right now.

Once he was certain there were no other wolves nearby and no signs of a Spark, he made his move.

No tactics this time. The only plan was to waste no time.

He drew his short sword with his right hand and stepped casually into the chamber where the wolf family rested.

The first to notice him were the two adults who had appeared to be sleeping. They sprang to their feet, baring their teeth with low, threatening growls. One barked sharply—not at Adyr, but as a signal.

A warning call for the pups.

Startled by the sudden tension, the young wolves scrambled clumsily, tripping over one another before tumbling into a narrow crevice behind the adults. They were small, but their instincts—partly natural, partly taught—were already well-formed.

"Sorry to disturb you like this, ladies," Adyr said softly, his voice steady as he raised his short sword into a stance balanced between guard and offense. He wasn’t looking for conversation. He was baiting them.

His face remained blank, devoid of emotion. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, locked onto the wolves with surgical focus. From him radiated a quiet, simmering bloodlust.

The wolves didn’t move. They held their ground, hackles raised, lips curled back to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. Their growls were low and warning, their posture not aggressive but protective. If he backed off now, they’d likely let him go. But Adyr had no intention of leaving.

Smart, he thought. Good.

That didn’t worry him—it excited him. Smarter prey made for a more satisfying hunt.

Without warning, he flipped his sword into a reverse grip, his body dropping lower. Then he surged forward.

The wolves reacted instantly. Muscles tensed. Front legs bent. Their heads dipped as they crouched low, ready to pounce.

But just before entering their strike range, Adyr stopped abruptly, feet digging into the dirt with precision. In one swift, fluid motion, he reached to his belt and drew two small kitchen knives and hurled them at both wolves.

They dodged with ease, one leaping left, the other right. Exactly what Adyr wanted. Even a small separation was enough.

Without giving them time to regroup, he tossed a fork at the one on the left, forcing it to dodge again, while he closed the distance on the one to the right.

As the wolf lunged, he grabbed the small shield from his back with his left hand and raised it just in time. Its jaws slammed into the metal with a thud, sending a sharp jolt through his arm and sliding him back an inch in the dirt—but his footing held.

In the same motion, he switched his grip on the sword, from reverse to forward, and drove it upward with brutal precision.

The blade pierced through the soft fur beneath the wolf’s jaw, sliding deep into its throat.

The growl died in an instant.

One down.

No hesitation. No wasted movement.

Just blood, steel, and control.

He didn’t lose focus. Without delay, he raised his shield and shifted his short sword back into a reverse grip, dropping into a defensive stance.

The other wolf, now driven into a frenzy by the scent of blood and the instinct to protect, let out a guttural snarl and charged at him with savage speed.

Adyr didn’t wait for the wolf to land the first impact. Just as it lunged, he timed it perfectly and parried the incoming fangs by slamming his shield into its mouth, yanking its head sharply to the left.

Using the momentum, he planted his feet firmly into the dirt, twisted his torso from the waist up, and brought the short sword, still held in a reverse grip, sweeping across like a combat blade.

The strike was clean and precise.

In one motion, he tore through the wolf’s throat.