As the group approached the manor, a cold, greasy sensation crawled up Kurt's spine. It took him very little to realize it was the same feeling he had gotten from the wolf thrall, the feeling of necrotic magic to his budding magic sense.

  By the time they stood in front of the building's doors, which were broad and tall like those of a barn, clearly designed with cattle and horses in mind, the feeling had become pervasive and all-encompasing. In Mila's arms, Christopher Robin thrashed like a crying infant, and the fur on Buck's nape had shoot straight up, like that of a cat's.

  "So," Conrad spoke, and Kurt saw that he was clutching his sword's handle in a tight fist. "some necromantic shit has definitely gone down in here."

  Mila rolled her jaw, and nodded sharply. She had her jacket floded up on her arms, using it as a cushion for Christopher Robin, which made it easy for Kurt to see the cold sweat that coated her neck.

  He couldn't blame her.

  It was possible that her connection with nature made her even more sensitive to this kind of magic, but, even if it wasn't the case, it still wouldn't be easy to be exposed to this kind of power. The kind of magic necromancer's used was one of darkness and hunger and, as such, it gave off a feeling that anything with flesh and a lifeorce could feel, even if they had no magic senses.

  With a sigh, Kurt conjured his wand, and immediately attuned it to the crimson heat of a fire evocation. "At least this one will be quick," he said, as he pointed his wand at the wooden building, a Fireball the size of a fist materializing on its tip. "I'll just burn the whole thing to the ground. Probably won't kill the fanged bastard, but the sunlight will."

  He readied his spell, letting the pulsating mass of heat swell with power, and aimed it at one of the building's edges, where there would have to be a support beam. As the energy built up, a dull-crimson glow tinted his whole vision.

  Which made it easy to miss when another source of crimson light exploded to life just to his side.

  Without letting out so much as a growl, Buck tackled him, throwing his weight on Kurt's shoulder and, taking hold of his sleeve with his fangs, threw his fur-covered head back, forcing Kurt's wand-hand up.

  The surprise caused Kurt's hold on his spell to slip, and the Fireball shot forward while the wand was pointing at the sky. The crimson projectile took off like a rocket, soon losing itself in the bright blue sky.

  Before Kurt could compute what had happened, a flash of blue exploded from his other side, and a flash of silver shone from above his head, which was now lying on the dry desert floor like the rest of his body.

  "Get the fuck away!" Conrad screamed, pressing his sword forward, causing the very tip of it to get lost in the fur coating Buck's throat. "Get the fuck away from him, you goddamn mutt!"

  Kurt then felt a weight being lifted off his chest, a weight he hadn' had neither the time nor presence of mind to notice, but that he realized must have been one of Buck's paws. Then, in a long stride, Conrad walked over him, keeping the relative distance between Buck and him (And between Buck's neck and his sword) exactly the same. Trying to get his breath under control, Kurt pushed himself onto a sitting position with his elbows. He suddenly fely a soft, lithe arm looping around the small of his back, supporting him.

  "Are you okay, Kurt?" Mila asked, the worry clear in her voice.

  Taking a deep breath through his nose, Kurt nodded, only to let out a dry cough when he tried to exhale, doubling him over. He hadn't been reinforcing himself when Buck had tackled him, or when he had brought his paw right on his chest. Taking that kind of punishment when his body was not any tougher than its mass dictated it should have been had hurt.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  With a thought, Kurt took control of his life force, amplifying it and focusing it, and he immediately felt better. While he would not be pulling any Deadpool-tier feats of regeneration any time soon (And something told him he probably never would, no matter how much he rose his VIT stat.), the fact was that life force was the rawest stuff of life, and its presence enhanced anything biological, from muscular strength, to the efficiency of his metabolism and including, of course, his healing process.

  Stabilizing his breath, Kurt nodded again, saying, "I'm fine, thank you." And this time there was no bout of coughing. With Mila's help (He didn't really needed it anymore, but he would not reject it when she was the one offering it) he brought himself back to his feet, and turned to his left, where Conrad was still holding Buck at sword-point.

  Despite the immediate danger he was facing, the wolf wasn't looking at the sword poised for his neck, nor to the man wielding it, but rather to Kurt himself. He looked...pleading; not meek or even apologetic, and there still was an edge to his gaze that told Kurt he was ready to bare his fangs if it came down to it, but that made equally clear that he didn't want it to come down to it at all.

  He doesn't want me to just burn the building down, Kurt thought. But why? Does he want to kill the vampire personally? A very emotional response but, then again, this is a wild animal we're talking about. But that look... It was like he wasn't angry, just...

  And then it hit him. Scared. He was scared. Because there is something in that building that...

  A sucking gasp went up Kurt's nostrils before he knew it, and his eyes shot open.

  "Holy shit..."

  At his side, Mila frowned. "Kurt? What is it?"

  "The vampire might have hostages," he said. "It didn't kill every wolf in Buck's pack, at least not in front of him. For all he knows, some of his cubs may be in there."

  Mila's eyes widened slightly, and she immediately turned toward Conrad, and exclaimed, "He wasn't trying to hurt Kurt, Conrad! He just didn't want him to burn the manor down!"

  "What?" asked Conrad without turning, "And why in the hell does it care?!"

  "The vampire might have hostages!" Kurt said, approaching the confronting two. "Some members of Buck's pack might still be alive, and the vampire might have them in that manor to fed upon later or something."

  With his sword still at Buck's neck, Conrad half-turned to Kurt, casting him a suspicious, one-eyed glance.

  "And what do you think about that theory?" he asked. "Cause you sure used a lot of 'mights' there, buddy."

  "I... don't know, man." Kurt answered sincerely. "It might be the case, or it might not, but the point right now is that Buck wasn't trying to hurt me, so this," He gestured vaguely at Conrad's sword. "is not necessary."

  Their eyes were locked for a couple seconds, before Conrad sighed and, slowly and measuredly, he pulled his sword away from Buck's neck and sheathed it back, walking away from the direwolf as he did so.

  "Okay," Conrad said, eyeing Buck in search of any sign of aggresion, only to find none. "How do we want to proceed now?"

  "We cannot go with the fire route," Kurt said. He caught the sound of light foot steps on the dry ground, and knew that Mila was joining the group, now that the conflict had died down. "Maybe there are no hostages. Maybe the vampire already fed upon every wolf it had on hand, and Buck is just clinging to a ghost chance. But..." Kurt trailed off, finding it very hard to vocalize his thoughts on the subject.

  He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, and a not-at-all conflicted Mila spoke next, "But we still have the 'mights', and that is enough. We took this entire detour just so we could keep that thing from hurting the innocent. If we risk killing a bunch of blameless cubs just so we can kill that thing, then this entire thing is pointless. We are not gambling with the lives of Buck's family, and that is final."

  Conrad seemed like he wanted to complain for a moment, before his shoulders dropped and he let out another sigh.

  "You two moralist fucks," he said, though the words lacked the edge of scorn one would expect from them. "How the hell do you get around doing anything while overthinking everything so freaking much?"

  Kurt shrugged, "The hell would I know? I just started to think about that stuff after the whole Melalo incident. You're gonna have to ask the Disney princess here if you want a chronicle about it."

  Mila grumbled softly, and the hand on Kurt's shoulder moved to playfully pinch his ear lobe.

  "What did we say about that nickname, hm?" she asked in faux-fury. She then looked at Conrad and, speaking in a much more serious manner, asked, "But seriously now, are you in for going in the manor, Conrad?"

  Conrad shrugged and, with a soft scoff, gave Mila a half-smile, "Not like I have an option now, do I?" He raised a hand, and coated it in the dark blue lightning of his Aura. "Can't burn barns with this stuff, after all."

  Suddenly very conscious that he might be forcing Conrad's hand with his decision, Kurt spoke. "Conrad, if you don't want to risk it, it is okay to sit this one out. If us three want to go in, then we can just put our necks on the line for it. You..." The image of Conrad's flayed, scorched flesh flashed past his mind's eye with the subtlety of a bullet, and his brow fell in a scowl. "You have already taken more than enough injuries for this quest."