Bloodstar System: Infinite Evolution Through Beast Slaughter

Chapter 18: Evric’s Plan!

As Deadwater’s captain and a middle stage Rank One Awakened Warrior, Tavian had survived in the wilderness for ten full years.

Even a fully armed regular military squad would get a headache facing something like this. A few of them might come away bleeding if things went badly.

Yet now, it lay at his feet.

Its skull had been split cleanly open. It had not even had time to let out a final howl.

One slash.

Only one.

Tavian stared at the cut on the wolf’s corpse, replaying that instant again and again in his mind.

If he had been in Joren’s place...

Facing the Windblade Wolf head on...

Could he have done it?

No.

A chill crawled up Tavian’s back.

Back in the vehicle, when that female officer from Antares Command had taken a second look at Joren, he had thought the kid had stepped in some filthy luck. Maybe his clean face had caught a woman’s eye.

Even earlier, when Tavian had felt that faint trace of danger from Joren, he had dismissed it as lack of sleep.

Now?

The kid might be stronger than him.

Joren saw that no one answered, so he asked again.

"How do we count this thing?"

Tavian snapped back to himself.

The arrogance he had carried before vanished without a trace.

"You killed it. It is yours. That is the rule."

His voice came out a little hoarse.

In the past, Tavian would have found a reason to take most of the loot by force. Team equipment. Protection. Shared risk. Anything would do.

But in the wilderness, rules were made for the weak.

Against someone who could kill a Windblade Wolf in one slash, Tavian would have to be out of his mind to get greedy over scraps.

"Good."

Joren nodded.

He crouched and used the boning knife to open the Windwolf’s chest.

His movements were smooth and practiced.

He was looking for a beast core.

Unfortunately, after some searching, Joren stood up with faint disappointment.

No beast core.

Low level Voidbeasts had a poor chance of forming one to begin with. This wolf was clearly broke.

Still, the hide, claws, and fangs could be sold for some money.

"Give me a hand," Joren said suddenly.

Arlen, who had been standing there like stone, jerked.

"Huh? Oh! Coming, coming!"

That slash had convinced him completely.

He kept thinking about what would have happened if that blade had gone for his neck instead.

Arlen touched his thick throat.

Cold.

A spiked club would never block speed like that.

While the two of them processed the wolf corpse, Evric remained frozen in the corner.

Fear.

Real fear.

Just a few minutes ago, he had mocked Joren in the vehicle, saying the kid would piss himself.

Evric secretly lifted his eyes and glanced at Joren, who was wiping the blade clean.

This kid...

Would he hold a grudge?

The more Evric thought about it, the colder his gut became.

Out here in the wilderness, killing someone was too easy.

If Joren wanted to, he could give Evric a slash during a chaotic moment, then blame it on a Voidbeast.

No one would question it.

Even Tavian would probably pretend not to see.

Who would offend a strong fighter for a useless man?

Despair spread through Evric.

Then it began to change.

It fermented in the soil of fear, twisted, and became something darker. Wilder.

Evric’s eyes slowly turned cold.

Then Joren could not be allowed to return alive.

Before the kid made a move.

Before he realized Evric had already decided to kill him.

Strike first.

Evric knew he could not beat Joren head on.

Not one of him.

Not a hundred of him.

But in the wilderness, killing did not always come down to strength.

Traps.

Poison.

Luring in a beast pack.

Plenty of ways.

Once they reached the abandoned commercial district, once they entered the Ironclad Lizard’s territory, chaos would come.

And with chaos came opportunity.

Evric stared at Joren’s back, the corner of his mouth pulling into a cruel, twisted smile.

"You done?" Tavian’s voice cut through his thoughts.

"Done."

Joren stood up.

The Windwolf’s most valuable fangs and several intact pieces of hide had already been cut off and stuffed into his bag.

As for the meat, it was too heavy to carry. The scavengers here could have it.

"The target is still three kilometers out."

"Since you have this kind of skill, the original plan is scrapped."

Tavian paused, then went on.

"You do not need to be bait anymore."

"Using you as bait would be a waste."

"When we get there, you attack with me. Arlen covers us."

"As for the reward... we agreed on ten percent before. I will raise it to thirty."

"How does that sound?"

It was a major concession.

Also an offer of goodwill.

Tavian was greedy, but he knew something even better than greed. Read the situation if you wanted to live long in the wilderness.

Pulling in a young fighter with this much potential was worth far more than two extra shares of profit.

"Fine," Joren said.

Tavian waved, and the team set out again.

The formation shifted in subtle ways.

Tavian placed Joren on the flank, whether intentionally or not, in a position where he could attack or retreat with ease.

Evric, who had originally been responsible for watching the right side, was pushed to the rear.

He lowered his head and followed at the back of the team without a word.

His gaze never left Joren’s back.

Like a venomous snake hiding in a gutter, waiting patiently for the prey to reveal one small opening.

The closer they moved toward the depths of the ruins, the clearer the dull roars of beasts became.

Joren tightened his grip around the boning knife.

His attention was now fixed entirely on the pale blue screen floating before his retina, visible only to him.