Chapter 5 – Into the Wolves’ Den

The summons appeared without fanfare, but its weight crushed the air around Aria like an execution order.

+++
Guild Summon – Immediate Attendance Required
Issuer: Guild Silverfang, Officer Sebastian
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Her chest tightened. Of course—it had to be him. Their duel in the square hadn’t ended; it had merely begun another chapter.

Ren leaned against the wall beside her, one brow raised. His voice carried a note of warning.

“They want you. And when Silverfang wants something, they don’t ask twice.”

Aria’s fingers curled around her twin swords. “If I refuse?”

“They’ll come drag you out anyway.” His gaze softened, but his words cut sharp.

“If it were me… I’d run. But then again, running never really works, does it?”

She swallowed the knot in her throat. Protection under a guild meant chains. But freedom meant being hunted.

“I won’t wear their collar,” she whispered.

Ren gave a humorless chuckle. “Then keep your blades sharp. Wolves don’t let prey walk away.”

+++++++

The guild hall loomed like a fortress out of legend—stone walls draped in banners stitched with snarling silver wolves, their eyes gleaming as if alive. The building seemed to watch her approach, each banner a silent warning. Guards flanked the massive entrance, their movements synchronized, predatory.

Inside, Officer Sebastian waited.

He didn’t rise when she entered. He simply stood with his arms crossed, studying her the way a hawk studies a rabbit. The faintest smirk tugged at his mouth.

“Level fifteen,” he said, eyes flicking to the stats hovering above her head.

“And you think you can defy a summon?” His tone was neither loud nor sharp, but it carried the weight of a verdict.

Aria steadied her voice.

“I’m not here to kneel. I’m here to survive.”

Sebastian’s smirk widened a fraction.

“Defiance? Or desperation? Either way, it’s amusing.” His eyes gleamed.

“Go on then. See how long you last outside my shadow.”

Ren shifted uneasily. Aria said nothing. She only met Sebastian’s gaze, refusing to blink.

When they left the hall, Ren let out a slow breath.

“That smile of his? That wasn’t goodbye. It was a leash. Wolves never let their prey go—not without a chase.”

+++++++

The streets bustled with merchants and adventurers, but every step felt watched. Every shadow stretched too long, every rooftop loomed too close.

The strike came without warning.

Armored figures dropped from above, boots shattering cobblestones. Wolf insignias glinted on their breastplates. Their eyes locked on Aria with the hunger of predators.

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[Ambush Detected]
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Aria barely twisted aside as a blade tore across her shoulder. The sting of steel burned through flesh, the shock stealing her breath.

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[Adaptive Protocol Triggered → Survive Ambush]
[Reward: Temporary Agility +5 | Skill Unlocked → Ghost Step Lv.1]
+++

Her body responded before thought. Her feet grew lighter, her movements flowing like water. She slid between strikes, the world blurring as blades carved only empty air.

Ren joined instantly, dagger flashing. He wasn’t just a spectator this time—his blade darted like a serpent, slashing tendons and deflecting blows aimed for her blind spots. Together, they danced between steel and death.

“Go left!” he barked, parrying a spear.

She obeyed without thinking. Their rhythm clicked into place—her speed and his precision meshing in frantic survival.

They ducked behind the fountain, both panting. Aria clenched her teeth, blood seeping down her arm.

“I can’t run,” she said.

“If I keep running, I’ll never stop.”

Ren gave her a sharp grin despite the sweat on his brow.

“Then stand and bite back.”

+++++++

The ground trembled.

The crowd scattered as a new figure pushed through. A mercenary commander, towering and broad-shouldered, his armor engraved with fanged wolves. His eyes glowed faint red.

Above his head blazed the number that made Aria’s stomach sink.

Level 85.

He rested a massive greatsword on his shoulder and grinned.

“A little fifteen, and already turning wolves restless? Let’s see if you can survive a real hunt.”

Aria’s grip tightened. Her voice was steel, though her heart hammered.

“I’m not running.” She raised her blades. “I’m surviving.”

The greatsword fell like a guillotine.

Her feet blurred in Ghost Step, body sliding just beyond its arc. Sparks screamed as her blades deflected a glancing strike, the shock jarring her bones.

+++
[Skill Growth → Ghost Step Lv.2]
[Adaptive Reflex Enhanced]
+++

“Keep moving!” Ren shouted, cutting down a lesser mercenary trying to flank.

The plaza became chaos. Aria vaulted overturned carts, darted through alleyways, springing over crates. The commander followed relentlessly, his greatsword smashing stone, shockwaves rattling windows.

Every close call honed her body further, each heartbeat syncing with the Adaptation System.

Her lungs burned. Her legs quivered. But something inside refused to break.

+++++++

At last, she was cornered in a narrow alley. The commander loomed, greatsword raised high.

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[Adaptive Quest Updated → Survive Certain Death]
+++

The blade descended.

Time slowed. The edges of the world blurred. Her blood thundered with unnatural clarity.

She dropped low in Ghost Step, sliding under the lethal arc, twisting up behind him. Her twin swords struck with desperate precision, slipping beneath his wolf-etched plate.

Metal shrieked. Sparks exploded. The commander roared, stumbling as crimson light flickered and died from his eyes.

+++
[Reward Granted → Ghost Step Lv.3 | Survival Instinct Lv.1 | Agility +5]
+++

He collapsed with a crash that shook the alley. Dust billowed. The mercenaries froze. Then, one by one, they melted back into the shadows, abandoning their fallen leader.

+++++++

Silence.

Aria leaned against the fountain, chest heaving. Sweat and blood streaked her face, dust clinging to her hair.

Ren dropped beside her, wiping his blade on his sleeve. His grin was half admiration, half disbelief.

“Damn, Aria. I didn’t think you’d pull that off.” He clapped her shoulder hard enough to make her wince.

“But don’t fool yourself—the Silverfangs won’t stop here. Next time, they won’t just send wolves. They’ll send the whole pack.”

Aria lifted her head, exhaustion mixing with a fierce spark in her eyes.

“Then let them.” Her lips curled into a grim smile.

“Survival is my progression.”

High above the city, a shadowed balcony overlooked the plaza. A figure leaned forward, fingers steepled, voice curling like smoke.

“Level fifteen,” the figure mused. “Defiant… adaptive… dangerous.” The faintest chuckle echoed into the night.

“Good. Let her run into the Wolves’ Den. If she survives that… then she’s worthy of my attention.”