Despite having used his Force instinctively before, this was the first time he was deliberately using it as an extension of himself—like an unseen limb reaching into the world beyond his physical senses.
It was strange.
The moment he focused too hard, the connection wavered, as though forcing the wind to obey made it resist him. But when he relaxed—let the wind flow naturally while nudging it toward his goal—it carried the scent toward him effortlessly.
With every few steps, he adjusted his course. The wind pushed against his left cheek, so he veered right. The scent faded slightly, so he slowed down, waiting for it to catch the current again. There was a rhythm to it, a dance between nature and intent. He wasn’t bending the world to his will—he was moving with it. As if the world welcomed his presence, rolling out a red carpet specifically for him.
It was… strangely satisfying.
But also exhausting.
Even without expending more Aether, prolonged focus drained his concentration. The process was subtle, like a creeping haze dulling his thoughts, making it harder to maintain a mental grip on his surroundings.
Kei exhaled sharply. “This takes way more effort than I thought.”
As if to deter him from succumbing to exhaustion, his Will stat responded—almost as if to agree with his earlier judgment that it should be much higher than ten.
He pressed forward, keeping a steady pace as the scent grew stronger. Before long, he found himself at the edge of a sparse woodland area, the towering trees casting dappled shadows across the uneven terrain. The ground dipped slightly ahead, forming a shallow decline littered with roots and stray foliage.
The scent pooled here.
He crouched low, letting the wind do the work. The bitter sharpness of the aroma clung to the damp earth, settling near a patch of small, clustered plants growing beside the exposed roots of a tree. Their leaves were jagged, a deep green with serrated edges, and when Kei rubbed a leaf between his fingers, the scent intensified.
“Looks promising.”
But he wasn’t about to eat it outright like an idiot.
Pulling a pebble from his pocket, he crushed the leaf against its surface before raising it to his nose. The scent was strong—overwhelmingly so—but there was no immediate burning, no acidic sting that screamed poison.
Encouraged, he dabbed a minuscule amount onto his tongue. The bitterness hit first, followed by a cooling sensation that numbed his taste buds slightly.
It wasn’t deadly. Probably.
Good enough.
Gathering a few handfuls, he wrapped them in the lower portion of his shirt, tying the fabric into a makeshift pouch. The process took longer than it should have since he had to be mindful of the brittle stems snapping under too much force. His movements weren’t refined, but at least he wasn’t making as much of a mess as when he butchered the hare.
Progress.
With his haul secured, Kei stood and stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension that had built up from crouching. A light breeze passed through the area, ruffling his hair, and for a moment, he let himself enjoy the sensation of the wind threading through his surroundings.
Then, he tensed.
The wind wasn’t flowing naturally.
Something had disrupted it.
His instincts sharpened, the subtle shift in the air raising every mental alarm. The steady rhythm of the breeze stuttered—like an unseen force had carved through it. Kei froze in place, straining his ears, his mind racing to process what his senses were telling him.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Then he heard it.
A rustling—brief, controlled, deliberate. Something moving through the underbrush.
Not the wind. Not an accident.
Something alive.
Kei didn’t turn immediately. He kept his stance relaxed as if he hadn’t noticed. His right hand, however, drifted toward his pebbles.
The movement stopped.
For three agonizing seconds, silence pressed against his ears. No footsteps. No rustling. Nothing.
Then—
A snap.
A branch cracked somewhere to his right, closer than before.
Kei stood still, quietly pulling a pebble free and raising his hand. His stance remained unchanged, ready to move, react—
But there was nothing there.
The brush was still. The trees, unmoving.
His grip on the pebble tightened. His breathing slowed.
“…Okay,” he murmured. “That’s not terrifying at all.”
He lingered for a moment longer before exhaling and taking a cautious step back. His Force told him nothing was directly in front of him, but something had been there. Watching. Testing his reaction.
And it wasn’t the Fangcub.
Not wanting to push his luck, Kei turned and made his way back toward camp, moving quicker this time. He made sure to keep his senses open, listening for anything following him.
Nothing.
By the time he broke through the edge of the woodland and spotted the familiar sight of the smoking campfire, tension bled from his shoulders.
The Fangcub, still guarding the cooked meat, wagged its tail lazily upon seeing him.
Kei let out a slow breath before plopping down beside the fire.
“Yeah, so, good news—I found something to season the meat.” He tossed his bundled herbs onto the ground.
The Fangcub sniffed at them, then sneezed dramatically.
“…Yeah, figured you wouldn’t like it.”
Ignoring the cub’s distaste, Kei grabbed one of the cooked meat skewers and tore off a bite. The flavor was mild but leagues better than eating it raw. As he chewed, his mind drifted back to the forest. To the feeling of something unseen watching him.
Whatever that was—it hadn’t attacked. But it also hadn’t fled.
It had just waited.
Kei swallowed his bite and sighed.
This world wasn’t going to let him relax, was it?
Taking a bit of the seasonings he found, he seasoned his piece of meat.
As he took another bite, noting the better flavor, he seasoned another piece of meat and gave it to the cub.
Ripping into the meat, the cub woofed in approval and savored the meal.
With a lot more of the hare meat left to devour, the two quickly got into finishing the meal.
Kei couldn’t help but notice that the cub kept glancing at him, its gaze holding a certain hunger, as if saying, this meat is good, but yours is much better.
As if to entertain the cub and to reward it for doing a job well in protecting his meal—
Slash.
Blood poured out of his wrist as he held his beginner sword in his other hand. As if he were adding sauce to it, he poured his blood over the cub’s food.
Staring at the scene, the Fangcub howled in excitement, taking a moment to lick the flowing wound on Kei’s wrist, enjoying his blood straight from the source.
Having already taken a healing potion, Kei said, “I can’t keep spoiling you like this. Enjoy it while you can.”
Noticing that the blood had stopped flowing, the cub quickly demolished its meal with gusto, its wagging tail slapping the ground in glee.
Kei, smiling at the scene, took bites in between but took notice of something else—the Aether in the air seemed to be picking up, drawn toward the cub.
The more the cub ate, the harder its tail slammed against the ground. By the time it finished its meal, its tail had left a small crater in the dirt.
If Kei could glance at the Fangcub’s stats, he’d be rather surprised.
[Fangcub]
Species: Wolf
[Force Alignment]: Unavailable
[Level]: 4
[HP]: 45/45
[Aether]: 10/10
Attributes:
Strength: 22
Dexterity: 35
Agility: 22
Constitution: 19
Intelligence: 6
Will: 6
Charisma: 10
Skills:
- Howl of Resilience – Emits a piercing howl, temporarily boosting Will and Constitution for survival.
- Lunging Rend – A swift burst attack that slashes deep into the target with increased Dexterity scaling.
- Instinctive Evasion – A reflex-based skill that grants a brief speed boost when detecting sudden danger.
Kei glanced at his now-healed wrist and grumbled, “The stupid thing flows through me, kinda rude it doesn’t benefit me. I mean, yeah, it keeps me alive, but the principle of the matter remains.”
The Fangcub, seeming more energetic, hopped around Kei while the human, amused by its antics, gingerly ate the rest of the hare.