Chapter 37: Fenrir’s evolution
Mana rushed out from his palm and wrapped around Fenrir in overlapping threads of black and emerald, tightening layer over layer until the wolf disappeared entirely beneath the glow.
A howl broke out from inside the light almost immediately.
Malrik’s stomach dropped a little at the sound of it — not the mindless yelp of an animal startled by something, but something with actual pain buried in it, drawn out and deliberate.
Is this hurting him? Should I stop?
He didn’t stop. He’d started this because he believed it was worth doing, and stopping halfway through an evolution felt like exactly the kind of mistake that got souls killed rather than saved.
He’s endured worse than this for me. I owe him the follow-through, at least.
Still, the sound didn’t sit right. Malrik found himself gripping the base of the spear a little tighter than necessary, watching the light like watching it harder might somehow make the process gentler.
The howl stretched, cracked, then dropped into something lower and rougher, a sound that had stopped belonging to an ordinary wolf several seconds earlier.
Then — silence.
The light peeled back slowly, reluctant, like it wasn’t entirely finished deciding what shape to leave behind.
What emerged looked leaner than before in every dimension that mattered. The muscle along its shoulders had tightened and redefined itself, sharper under the coat rather than simply bulkier. The shadow that had always clung loosely around Fenrir’s fur now seemed woven directly into it — not a covering anymore, but a part of the actual pelt, shifting faintly even when the body beneath it stayed still.
[Your Rare★ soul Shadow Wolf has evolved to Rare★★★ Shadow Stalker.]
Malrik exhaled, relief mixing with something closer to pride.
He’s fine. Better than fine.
[Your Shadow Stalker spirit has gained the skill "Shadow Ambush".]
[ Skill: Shadow Ambush ]
[Allows the user to merge with nearby shadows, becoming nearly impossible to detect. The first attack after emerging from the shadows deals 200% damage and reduces the target’s movement speed by 30% for five seconds. Cooldown: 30 Seconds.]
He read it twice, and the second read produced an actual grin.
A stealth skill. On a wolf that already fights in packs. That’s not just strong — that’s cruel, in the best possible way.
He immediately pulled up the next tier requirement, mostly out of habit, half-expecting the number to have doubled from the last one.
[ Evolution Required Points: 0 / 300 ]
Three hundred.
He did the quick math without meaning to. One hundred to the first tier. Three hundred to the second. Not double — closer to triple.
If that pattern holds, the next one’s going to cost even more than that. Nine hundred, maybe. A thousand.
He checked his remaining balance out of pure reflex.
Still over fourteen thousand. Even if the curve keeps climbing, I’ve got room to spare — for now, at least.
That settled it, more or less. There was no reason to stop at three stars when the resources were sitting right there, unused, doing nothing but taking up space in a status screen.
Every step higher makes the whole army stronger. Waiting doesn’t save me anything.
He fed in the three hundred points.
"...Evolve."
The mana came again, and this time the pull felt different — heavier, more insistent, dragging at something deeper in him than the first attempt had. He staggered half a step, caught himself, and kept his hand raised anyway.
This one’s costing more than points.
Fenrir’s shape vanished under the light completely, and this time there was no howl at all. No sound of pain. Just a slow, gathering pressure that built and built without releasing, stretching on for what felt like considerably longer than the first evolution had taken.
Malrik counted his own breaths to keep from getting nervous about it.
One. Two. Three.
Come on.
Four. Five.
The light finally broke apart.
Fenrir stood taller now — not by an enormous margin, but enough that Malrik immediately noticed it, the proportions shifted just slightly toward something more imposing. The shadow no longer merely clung to the fur; it rolled off him in slow, deliberate waves that curled outward and receded like something breathing on its own rhythm, entirely separate from the body producing it. His eyes had darkened into a deeper shade of emerald, and the air around him had gone noticeably colder — the specific, uncomfortable cold of standing too close to an open window in the dead of winter.
[Your Rare★★★ soul Shadow Stalker has evolved to Rare★★★★★ Shadow Tyrant Wolf.]
Malrik stared at him for a long moment before finding words.
Five stars.
Same rarity as Lilith.
The thought carried more weight than he expected, and for a second he genuinely considered whether he was looking at his wolf the right way anymore, or whether "wolf" had quietly stopped being an accurate word for whatever now stood in front of him.
[Your Tyrant Wolf spirit has gained the skill "Tyrant’s Command".]
[ Skill: Tyrant’s Command ]
[Marks one target as prey. All allied wolves instinctively prioritize the marked target. Damage dealt against the marked enemy increases by 25%.]
A command skill. He’s not just a fighter anymore — he’s a battlefield tool. Focus fire, on command, across every wolf under him.
We must test his new skills as quickly as possible.
His focus drifted unintentionally towards Lilith, half by instinct, and half by a sudden desire to compare.
Should I evolve her too?
He caught himself almost immediately and shook his head.
No. She’s already strong enough on her own. I’ve got forty other souls that need this more than she does right now.
The Spider Queen shifted where she waited, patient, watching the whole exchange with the calm attentiveness of something that already understood exactly what was coming next.
Malrik turned toward her.
"...Your turn."
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