79 - Fighting Spirit

  Joe listened to the howling wolves approaching through the vast primordial forest. The undulating calls sent shivers running down Joe’s flesh. It was clear the predators were circling him, unseen behind the massive tree trunks or hidden by the deep gloom surrounding him.

  He looked down at his naked form, trying to figure out how Sougath had transported him away from the city and to where the wraith had dropped him. More importantly, where the hell was his clothing? A cold breeze dimpled his flesh, increasing his trembling. Joe could only see a dozen or so yards away at the furthest. Everywhere he looked around him, his line of sight was blocked by colossal black tree trunks, each the size of a redwood. The overhead was a full canopy of leaves, letting not a drop of moonlight or flicker of stars through.

  It was then that Joe realized he could see.

  ‘If there’s no light from above, then how am I not in pitch blackness down here at the base of the trees? It must be [Night Eyes]. But if that’s the case, then why aren’t my hands shaggy and taloned?’

  He opened his character to see if [Savage Claws] was still there. Yet when he tried to manifest his profile page, nothing appeared. Joe looked for alerts from Hawking and found none of those either.

  ‘Hey Hawking? What’s going on?’

  Only the dreadful howls answered him.

  ‘This can’t be real,’ he demanded.

  As the baying rang out around him, Joe felt his heart flutter. The wolves were close.

  ‘Wait. They have been circling me for way too long. I’m only one guy alone. Why haven’t they tested me yet?’

  Wolves could be cautious, but this felt off. Were they trying to scare him? Sougath’s modus operandi was fear. Was this was part of the Night Haunts' attack? Softening him up with terror.

  If that was the case, then either [Iron Will] was still going or the were-spirit had overplayed its hand, because Joe found himself getting more pissd-off than afraid.

  ‘Let’s test some theories. First off, are my powers still available, just hidden from me?’

  The only weapon he knew he had before being transported to this eerie landscape was [Forceful Fist]. Joe willed the force spell to appear, ready to attack if he saw a wolf. He was rewarded with a weapon, just not a taloned red hand. Instead, a translucent ruby hand-axe materialized in his grip. It was somewhere between a hatchet and a tomahawk, and it felt absolutely perfect in his grip. Joe was struck by an overwhelming conviction that this item was his.

  Going purely on instinct, Joe tried to activate [Bonemail]. A tremble under his feet shifted his attention downward. He watched the ground churn and lift a human skeleton to the surface of the loamy earth. The bones launched out of the dirt one by one, forming into a shield on his arm.

  ‘They are analogies. My spells are being reinterpreted. The million dollar question is, who is doing the reinterpretation: me, Hawking, or Sougath?’

  Joe lifted his nose to the air, trying out [Tracker], but he didn’t pick up any scents except the damp earthy smell he would normally expect in the woods. So was it with the rest of the skills he had just transformed. It could be that they were blocked here, but Joe was more convinced that his subconscious was responsible for manifesting his spells. Since he didn’t have a connection yet to any of the new skills he had just acquired, he would not have them here.

  ‘Test two. I’m tired of my ass hanging out and the cold air on my nuts.’

  Joe felt resistance this time, as if another will wanted him naked. He focused, pushing his desire for clothing through the opposing urge to keep him vulnerable. A small ting sounded in the air by his ear. A second later, Joe managed to wrap a pair of blue jeans and his trusty gambeson onto his body. He looked up and saw a tiny quartz brain orbiting his head.

  ‘[Crystal Mind] is such a good spell!’

  As Joe broke through what had to be Sougath’s desire for his weakness, wolves came charging from the trees. Joe let instinct take over again and dropped a [Homefire] at his feet. The healing would help the wolves more than it would him, but he wanted the light and the sense of control over where he stood.

  Again, his spell was altered. The axe in his hand erupted, becoming coated in a fiery blaze. Joe swung the tomahawk at the closest fanged hunter. As the burning hatchet roared through the air, the distinct sound of a bird of prey, or more likely a phoenix, screamed out from the blazing axehead.

  The blade dug in deeply, and the beast yelped, dancing backward. Expecting a flanking attack, Joe spun, cracking his bone shield into the head of a second lunging wolf. He kept turning, getting the targe in the path of a third beast. As the wolf rebounded off the fused bones, Joe chopped at it with the axe, leaving a deep slice along its neck.

  When there was no sign of fire damage, Joe realized that he had called the [Homefire] to bolster his attitude. It didn’t add damage, but it did strengthen his confidence.

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  Which might be what this battlefield was all about.

  He had some experience with physical combat and tiny a bit with magical combat, too. This must be spiritual combat. He was fighting a battle of wills. And while he didn’t really know the rules, Joe had both a good imagination and the resolve to keep pushing through.

  He hacked and blocked as much as possible, but he was facing at least ten hairy hunters who knew how to coordinate their attacks. Their jaws and claws tore at him, seemingly to pass right through his pants and coat as if they weren’t even there.

  Yet Joe found he didn't even need to activate [Healing Touch] to banish his wounds. Here on this battlefield, mending his body was an instinct. His wounds were closing as fast as new ones appeared.

  The wolves tried to drag Joe off his feet, and in response, his bare feet grew gnarly roots akin to the giant trees around him, anchoring him to the earth. [Steadfast] was still there for him, even if he couldn’t access his sheet.

  [Heavy Hand] was present, too. Anytime a wolf pounced on him, Joe’s shield shot out to shove it away, or he’d hook the axe on any that managed to make it past the bony buckler, yanking the beast off his back.

  He seemed to have reached a stalemate. The wolves around him were looking more and more ragged, but Joe could hear more howls resounding throughout the forest. He didn't feel like he was tiring, and with his regeneration-like healing, he was never damaged for more than a few seconds.

  ‘I can do this,’ he thought.

  He was not about to be overwhelmed. Now, he just needed to think of a solution to break free of Sougath and destroy the wraith for good.

  As Joe chopped down another of the lupine harriers, he caught a weird expression on the beast’s face. It had an overly smug look about it. The look was only there for just a second, yet Joe was certain he had seen it

  Suddenly, it dawned on Joe why Sougath had not changed his tactics when his pack was making no progress. The wraith was playing a waiting game. By keeping Joe barricaded up in his own spirit, the beast was running out the clock. It must know that the approaching citizens were prey, not problems for it.

  The Night Haunt did not have to overrun him. It just had to wait. Joe had no idea what would happen if Sougath got its black coils onto the people coming, but the sick feeling of dread in Joe’s gut was trying to tell him it wouldn’t be a good thing.

  ‘I need to find the haunt. Take the fight to it and not these shadows it’s throwing at me.’

  Joe cut an opening through the circling hunters and dashed deeper into the dark forest. His blazing axe lit the way through the unnatural gloom. The wolves continued to harry him, but Joe kept going. The hidden howlers shadowed their progress through the trees, but Joe never seemed to encounter any new beasts.

  Joe stopped, putting his back to a tree, and reevaluated his plan.

  ‘It’s all just smoke and mirrors. I need to stop thinking like I’m in a physical world. Unless my Perception is better than its stealth, I’m not going to just stumble across it.’

  Joe technically had a tool to hunt Sougath down, [Tracker], but it was so new to him, he didn’t know how to access it. Being savaged by a pack of wolves didn’t allow him to take a moment to figure it out either. He needed to get the Sougah shadow pack off of him for just a second.

  There was one talent Joe had from his old life that had only just become a new skill. It was something he had been using his whole life, from his first dog, Jessie, to his last goofy boy, Ripple. In his house, there was a hierarchy: humans, then dogs, and of all the humans, Joe had always been the pack leader. He had trained virtually all of the family’s pets. He had taken them to obedience, agility, fly ball, scent, and herding classes and competitions. He was the one they looked to for meals, love, care, and direction, as well as the one they slept on.

  Joe faced the slavering pack and drew on every ounce of dominance he had.

  “STOP!” he yelled.

  His voice was more than just tone here in the realm of the spirit. The weight of his fourteen points of Spirit was a hammer blow surging through his command. As Joe had hoped, it awoke one of his newest skills. A sense of wildness raged through Joe. He felt his presence expand and eclipse Sougath’s control over the manifested pack.

  Even though there was no alert, Joe could practically picture one telling him [Pack Master] had just ranked up.

  The wolves stopped dead in their tracks. Their hackles fell, and their heads drooped. The ten hunters peeked up at Joe from under the rim of their brows, unwilling to make direct eye contact.

  Joe felt the wild feeling inside him redouble and redouble again. It wanted to punish these beasts, teach them their place, ensuring none would ever dare to challenge their will again. He found himself even taking a step toward the closest cowed wolf, planning to tear it to bits.

  “Woah!!!” Joe shouted at that savageness that was swamping his control. This feral instinct was not Sougath. It was coming from within Joe’s soul, some new fierce part of him. The lycanthropy had been undone, but in doing so, Joe had absorbed a hefty chunk of bestial abilities. It turns out there was a dark side to these changes.

  Just as he had with the pack and his more stubborn dogs, Joe gave not an inch. He pushed back on the wildness, forcing it to obey, to acknowledge that Joe was in charge. The wildness fought far harder than the wolves had. It seemed to have the strength of Joe’s Spirit, too.

  Unrelenting, the feral feeling called on allies with their gestalt state. Suddenly, Joe felt his shoulders swell. At the same time, his legs lengthened, and his ears stretched up into points. All of these must be thanks to [Morphic Form]. The gloom of the forest vanished as [Night Eyes] cut through the illusionary murk that the Night Haunt had imposed on this spiritual battlefield. The most distracting of all was the thousands of scents that overwhelmed Joe’s nose.

  Joe could feel the wildness inside pushing against his will, trying to take advantage of his overloaded senses. He could feel it pushing on his primal feelings: rage, fear, and hunger. It might have worked if Joe’s parents hadn’t had a string of boxers throughout Joe’s youth. He had learned long ago how to out-stubborn stubborn.

  The wildness thought it just needed to get the upper hand once, and it would rule the body. It could not fathom that it would not be in charge. Yet, that was not how training worked. Patience, persistence, and consistency were far more important than the mere power of presence. Joe held firm. One by one, he mastered his sight, nose, and body. He figuratively stared down his savage alter-self, without blinking, until finally, it relented.

  With a surly huff, Joe’s feral id retreated into the back of their combined spirit. He was certain it was not done challenging him, but for now, Joe had the driver’s seat to himself.

  When the contest was over, he found his spiritual body panting and sweating. He had no idea how long he had been battling his inner-self or even how time worked in the state.

  Still, he knew he had to find Sougath before the Haunt killed again and grew stronger.

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