Another World Story

Day Ten: Accompany

Day Ten: Fighting

Two weeks had passed since he had been transmigrated to this unknown world, and in those two weeks, John had verified two things.

Firstly, the forest he was in was much bigger than he had thought. He had already traveled about 10 km, but there were still no signs of the forest thinning, nor had the number of animals and monsters decreased. Instead, the more he moved forward, the more he encountered.

John was certain that he had picked the wrong direction.

Unfortunately...

"Huff... Huff...!"

It was already too late.

"Huff... Argh!"

Crash! Crunch!

Secondly, the beautiful starry nights that he had always admired and used to fall asleep under weren’t as beautiful as he thought.

John knew that during the day, the predators he encountered weren't the apex of the forest. He was certain of that. He also knew that only at night did the true apex predators of the forest appear. He had heard them before—their growls, howls, screeches—and some had even passed by his area. It was during those times that John realized how lucky he was to be able to camp near the shallow river.

Those nocturnal predators seemed to avoid the river, as if they were afraid of it—or perhaps something in it.

John had tried following the river downstream, only to find that it went underground, effectively preventing him from looking for civilization near it. He tried going upstream, only to end up in the same situation.

John could only be grateful that the shallow river hadn’t shown any predators. So, he was safe for the time being.

But it didn’t take long for his luck to run out.

"Hoo! Ah!"

Growl!

"F..!"

John was tired, panting heavily, sweat trickling down his back and forehead like a waterfall. Despite that, he didn’t dare to rest. In front of him stood four beasts with night-dark fur. Their sharp gazes sent a chill down his back; their claws protruded from their paws, and they bared their fangs at him.

If that wasn’t enough, each of them was nearly the same height as him—180 cm or more.

They were the same species as the wolf he had butchered, only bigger and stronger.

If there were only four of them, with his current ability, John was confident he could escape, though barely alive.

Unfortunately, there were six of them.

Thud! Crash! Crunch!

Growl! Growl! Howl!!

John had said before that if he encountered any beasts in the forest, he was confident he could escape. But with wolves? No. They moved in packs, hunted in packs, and attacked in packs. They would exhaust their prey, inflicting wounds to slow them down before taking the kill.

And now, he, John Kaiser, was their prey.

"... I... really hate... that rabbit!" John muttered, laboriously catching his breath.

If it weren’t for that rabbit! He thought. But it was of no use complaining; it had already happened. John could only blame his luck and the favor that rabbit had given him. He could only curse the rabbit in his heart for bringing this pack of wolves to his home base while he was sleeping. At first, it was only the rabbit being chased. John had heard the howling and commotion and tried his best to hide atop the trees. But who would have thought that one of the wolves was also in the tree, jumping from branch to branch like a certain ninja dog from a certain orange-haired ninja show? When he finally noticed, the wolf was already on the tree he was in.

Faced with no other choice, John had to run, grabbing only his "dagger," a few twigs, vines, and the rock fire starter that was already set. He had to leave his one-meter ivory "sword" behind as it was too heavy and too far from where he slept.

As soon as the wolf atop the tree noticed him, he was already descending his vine ladder. Unfortunately, the wolf howled, attracting the attention of the other five wolves nearby, who shifted their focus to him. John could only bite his lip in frustration and run for his life.

While running, John noticed from the corner of his eye that the rabbit that brought disaster to his home was also being chased by other wolves—about five of them. So, the total number of wolves was around eleven. He didn’t know if there were more, but he hoped there weren’t.

John ran with all his might, trying to lose the wolves. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake them. They were much faster and more agile. To slow them down, John lit one of his trump cards—the exploding twigs—and threw them at the wolves. But this also slowed him down, and the wolves dodged the explosions and continued their chase.

Now, they had finally caught up to him, effectively cornering him.

Three in front.

Three behind.

Each wolf had the ability to kill him with a strike or two. Their sharp claws and fangs could easily pierce his flesh.

He'd die.

John was certain of that.

But there was no other choice.

...He gripped the "dagger" that was still in its sheath in his right hand tightly.

He’d die either way.

At least he could try to take one or two with him?

"Heh," he chuckled.

As if he could do so.

Nonetheless.

Grip!

"I wouldn’t know unless I tried."

John wasn’t sure where he got the confidence—or rather, the courage—to fight. As far as he could remember, he wasn’t the type of person who liked to fight. He didn’t like instigating fights, participating in them, or even getting in between others while they fought. He didn’t want to get hurt without gaining anything from it.

Perhaps because he was that type of person, he now had the courage to fight?

After all.

If he didn’t fight, he’d die.

And if he fought, he’d die as well, but at least he wouldn’t die in vain. Right?

"Hahaha!" Thinking so, John couldn’t help but laugh.

Why was he even thinking so much? It was just so simple. He’d die.

Hadn’t he experienced it countless times? If so, he’d die fighting!

As his thoughts came to that realization, John's hazel-brown eyes flickered for a moment and changed to onyx black. But the change soon disappeared without him realizing.

Growl!! Howl!!

As if sensing the change, the six wolves surrounding him bared their fangs even more, growling and howling. Their gazes became sharper, as if they no longer saw him as mere prey, but as something more—a predator.

They had to kill him.

With that thought, the wolves hesitated no longer and pounced towards John, their paws raised, trying to claw him.

Seeing their moves, John didn’t falter. He quickly took out the thick vines he had managed to bring and surveyed his surroundings. He performed a somersault towards an area without wolves, then rolled and quickly stabilized himself. John spun the vine around his left arm as he dodged and maneuvered. But the wolves were much quicker. One of them grazed his thigh, leaving three large claw marks and soaking his pants in blood.

"Ugh!" John growled.

He gritted his teeth. The pain was excruciating, the worst he had ever felt. But he had to hold on, or he'd be dead meat.

John glanced at his thigh briefly before focusing on the thick vines on his left arm, which he had wrapped around for protection. He then turned his gaze to the approaching wolves. He unsheathed his "dagger," which was already smeared with the blue liquid from the blue-petaled flower.

John had previously tested the poison on fish, making small cuts and watching them die. Although it wasn’t edible anymore, he wasn’t sure if it would work on these wolves, but he had to try!

Growl!

A wolf to his left growled as it pounced towards him, its massive mouth wide open as if trying to devour him whole. John couldn’t dodge in time; he could only raise his left hand covered with the vine and let the wolf bite it.

Crunch!

"Aah! F..!"

As expected, the wolf bit down on his hand with such force that it almost broke the bones beneath. John cursed, his gaze bloodshot. He looked at the wolf biting his arm and raised the "dagger," plunging it into the wolf’s eye!

"Awooo!"

The wolf howled in pain, letting go of its hold and shaking its head repeatedly as it backed off.

The other wolves, enraged by their companion’s injury, charged towards him simultaneously.

Two from his right, one in front, and two from the back.

John had no choice but to tumble to his left. But as he did, a wolf at the front bit his right leg, pulling him toward it and slamming him to the ground.

"...!!"

John felt intense pain spread through his body, threatening to knock him unconscious.

But it wasn’t over. Now that he was on the ground, the wolves took their chance and began biting him everywhere, tearing at his flesh. From his thigh, leg, arm, and shoulder—John was like a dish at an all-you-can-eat buffet, each wolf taking its bite.

"F...!" Shouting from the top of his lungs, John used his free hand to pull out the small fire starters and slammed them together near the exploding twigs that had fallen to his right leg. Then...

BOOM!

An explosion much bigger than any he had experienced erupted.