The forest floor was a canvas of churned snow and dark, steaming splashes of crimson. Wang Fan stood at the center of the s*******r, his chest heaving, the air in his lungs feeling like jagged shards of glass. The four wolves he had already dispatched lay like discarded piles of grey rags, but the Alpha—the massive, tattered-eared beast—was still alive. And it was learning.
For the first time in his life, Wang Fan’s internal "Scholar" was silent. The part of him that calculated friction coefficients and molecular weights had been shoved into a dark corner of his mind. In its place stood something ancient, something that didn't need a calculator to understand the geometry of death.
The Death of the Student
The Alpha circled him, its paws silent on the ice. It wasn't snarling anymore. It
