Fragments of Anger

The cold night air cut through my skin, but I barely felt it. All my senses were consumed by pain.

"Huff... huff... huff..."

My breath came in ragged gasps, blending with the muffled sound of my unsteady footsteps on the damp ground. My chest burned as if it would tear apart, my lungs screamed for rest, but stopping wasn't an option.

I stumbled. My legs had lost their strength. My body gave in, rolling across the earth as branches and stones scraped against my skin. But even as I fell, my arms instinctively tightened around the pup, shielding it from the impact.

Pain pulsed through every fiber of my being, but the moment I stopped rolling, I forced myself up again. My legs trembled, threatening to give out, yet I kept running.

The wind howled through the trees, and the elongated shadows cast by the twin moons seemed to reach out, ready to swallow me whole.

After what felt like hours—but was likely just minutes—I realized I had put some distance between myself and the battle. The trees around me were denser now, their twisted branches stretching toward me like claws, and an instinctive sense of unease gripped my body. Something about this part of the forest was wrong.

My legs finally failed me. I collapsed onto my knees, my body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

My vision blurred, tears spilling freely from my golden eyes. I didn't try to stop them.

The pup in my arms let out a soft whimper, pressing against me as if it could somehow share my sorrow.

Reality crashed down on me.

Dr. Wolf was gone.

The white she-wolf and what remained of the pack were fighting for their lives.

And I... I had run.

I knew I had no other choice, that staying would have meant nothing but another pointless death. But knowing that didn't make the guilt any easier to bear.

My fingers dug into the damp earth, trembling with the force of my grip. My lips parted, and a raw, broken cry tore from my throat, echoing through the empty forest. Ragged sobs mixed with the choked sound of my own agony—an agony I didn't know how to contain, one that overflowed like a river breaking its banks.

In that moment, for the first time since I arrived in this world, my true age made itself known.

I wasn't a warrior.

I wasn't a hunter.

I wasn't an experienced survivor.

I wasn't a fucking Tarzan

I was just a child.

Lost in a forest that wanted to devour me, clutching in my arms the only friend I had left.

My body shook, my breathing was uneven, broken by sobs I couldn't control. Pain, fear, and exhaustion twisted together into a suffocating knot in my throat.

Then, a childish voice, laced with sarcasm, cut through the silence from a distance:

"See? I told you it was pointless to follow this kid. Look at him, crying like a scared little kitten."

At first, the words reached my ears without meaning—distant, irrelevant. My world was still drowned in the darkness of my own despair.

"Oswin, don't say that!" Another voice spoke, softer, feminine, though hesitant. "He must have a reason for crying."

Footsteps approached slowly, crunching dry leaves and twigs underfoot.

"And what reason could that be?" Oswin continued, his tone indifferent, tinged with mild disdain. "We nearly died, and yet here we are, still standing. Even after Hilda's death, not a single tear fell from our eyes."

Oswin took another step forward, now standing just behind me. His voice carried impatience.

"Hey, kid. Do you even know where you're going? Or is this just your little crying corner?"

I didn't answer. I didn't even look at him. My body remained rigid, and my empty eyes stayed fixed on the damp leaves beneath me.

Oswin clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

I felt his hand land on my shoulder—a touch that normally wouldn't have meant anything, but in that moment, it felt like an insult.

The pup in my arms let out a small whimper, pressing itself closer to me.

"Don't tell me you're crying over those wolves?" Oswin scoffed. "They were just animals."

Those words.

My heart, drowned in grief just moments ago, stopped for a beat. My mind, clouded by pain, suddenly sharpened.

I turned my head slowly, my eyes finally locking onto his.

"What did you just say?"

Oswin folded his arms, as if my reaction wasn't what he had expected.

"Don't you dare," I muttered, my voice low and cold—a tone I barely recognized as my own. "Those 'animals' saved your life... at the cost of their own."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful?" he shot back, his voice dripping with disdain. "They should be grateful they died for someone like me."

The girl beside him stepped forward, hesitation in her eyes.

"Oswin, that's enough."

But he ignored her.

"Even that black wolf that got torn apart should be happy his life actually meant something. Not to mention tha—"

I didn't hear the rest.

My body moved on its own.

My injured fist connected with Oswin's face in a sharp, brutal impact, sending him stumbling backward. Blood burst from his nose, and before he could even process what had happened, another punch struck him.

I hit him again, ignoring the pain shooting through my knuckles.

"Don't you ever talk about them again."

Another punch.

"They are more important than all of you."

Another punch.

"More important than every damn member of your Dracknum family."

My fist kept rising and falling, slamming into Oswin with raw, unrelenting fury. Each hit landed with a dull thud of flesh against flesh, each impact releasing a fragment of the storm raging inside me.

"You filthy—how dare you!"

He tried to fight back, but I dodged effortlessly, my body moving purely on instinct. I lunged at him again, knocking him to the ground with even greater force.

"ENOUGH!"

Gloria's voice split the air like thunder.

For a fraction of a second, I hesitated.

That was all Oswin needed.

He shoved me with all his strength, flipping our positions, and before I could react, he was on top of me, throwing punches with the same fury I had unleashed on him.

This time, I was the one feeling the sharp sting of each hit, pain snapping across my face like the crack of a whip. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, my body protesting with every impact.

Oswin's blows came down like hammer strikes against my raised arms, but I had taken far worse. Compared to the crushing force of the bear that nearly killed me, or the fangs and claws of the wolves during training, his punches were nothing.

I just needed an opening.

I gritted my teeth, enduring the pain, my eyes locked on his movements, waiting for the right moment.

— "Charge,"— I murmured, trying to channel mana.

Energy flickered in my hands, but I was still drained from the previous fight. The discharge was weak—barely enough to send a tingling sensation through Oswin's muscles.

But one second of paralysis was all I needed.

I twisted my body and drove my foot into his chest with every ounce of strength I had left.

The impact sent him flying backward, rolling across the ground.

Oswin shot to his feet instantly, spitting out dirt and blood. His glare burned with rage.

"You bastard, you can use magic!" he snarled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I didn't answer. I simply held my stance.

The anger on his face darkened into something more sinister, and his entire presence became more menacing.

"You'll see who's really in charge here."

His nails began to lengthen, sharpening into claws.

My body tensed. This wasn't just a burst of aggression—he was getting ready to fight for real.

The girl, who had remained on the sidelines until now, finally stepped in.

"Oswin, stop! We're in the middle of a dangerous place. If that thing catches up to us—"

"Gloria, stay out of my way!" he growled, his eyes gleaming with a newfound ferocity. "You know damn well who started this!"

He lowered himself slightly, shifting into a new stance—one steadier, more predatory.

I swallowed hard. I couldn't afford to underestimate him.

"Get ready to bleed more than those wolves you love so much."

He lunged.

I reacted in an instant.

— "Breeze" —

Magic surged beneath my feet, propelling me forward in a blur.

We clashed in the middle, my speed just barely allowing me to block his first strike—or so I thought.

His claws grazed my arm, leaving a shallow but searing cut.

'Shit.' I cursed internally, but I didn't hesitate.

I used the proximity to my advantage, grabbing his wrist with one hand. With the other, I summoned fire.

— "Flame." —

Heat surged in my palm, ready to scorch his face.

But Oswin was faster.

With a swift movement, he leaped back, slipping from my grip. My fire missed its mark, vanishing into the air.

I clenched my teeth. 'Fine, then…'

I ignored every warning of exhaustion screaming through my body. If I wanted to end this quickly, I had to take a risk.

— "Droplet." —

A small, unstable sphere of water formed at my fingertip.

Oswin charged again.

— "Charge." —

Electricity crackled through the sphere.

— "Breeze." —

Magic burst beneath my feet, launching me toward him like a bullet.

Oswin didn't flinch. He lunged, claws aimed straight for my flesh.

We were inches apart.

My electrified sphere was already aimed at him.

His claws were ready to tear into my chest.

And then—

Thud!

A sudden impact stopped everything.

Our magic was neutralized before either of us could land a hit.

My hand was pushed aside—so was Oswin's.

The interference was so fast and precise that it took a full second for my mind to process what had happened.

Between us, a figure had appeared, blocking our attacks with infuriating ease.

My palm was still touching his, but the sphere of electricity I had created had vanished, as if it had been absorbed or dispersed the instant we made contact. Meanwhile, Oswin's wrist was caught in an iron grip, his claws frozen just short of piercing my skin.

"Bloody hell," the boy's voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if he were dealing with a couple of idiots. "You two are seriously out of your minds."

He was slightly taller than me, but he didn't seem much older. His wavy black hair fell messily to his neck, contrasting against his dark skin and sharp golden eyes, which gleamed under the crimson moonlight.

The Dracknum bloodline was unmistakable in him.

Oswin's eyes widened. The rage and ferocity on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by sudden shock.

"How dare you interru—"

But the moment his gaze truly focused on the boy, his voice faltered.

The newcomer tilted his head slightly, his stare as sharp as a blade.

"Dare what?" he shot back, his tone disinterested yet carrying an undeniable authority that needed no explanation.

Silence fell between us.

Oswin didn't answer.

Neither did I.

Gloria, who had been watching with wide eyes, pressed her lips together, her expression caught between surprise and barely contained relief.

The boy let go of both of us with an almost lazy motion, as if already bored with the situation. As he stepped back, I noticed small traces of dirt crumbling from his arm—the same one that had stopped my attack.

'Earth element?'

My gaze swept over him, taking in the details. His clothes were made of animal hide, much better crafted than mine. A crude bow hung across his back, seemingly fashioned from sturdy branches and flexible vines. At his waist, a dull-bladed dagger rested alongside a belt packed with small pouches and a worn leather canteen, the kind used by nomads.

'Even sandals?!'

Annoyance flared within me. He was well-equipped, clearly used to surviving in this environment. Compared to him, I looked like a ragged drifter who had barely escaped death.

The stranger snapped his fingers, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Well," he said, not even bothering to look at us. "Now that we're done with this pathetic display, can someone tell me why the hell you're wasting time fighting… while the forest is bleeding?"