CHAPTER 37: UNCONVENTIONAL TRICKS

Both teams were attacking desperately — swinging swords, firing spells, scrambling to dodge — but the Silverfang Wolf showed no sign of slowing.

It looked almost bored.

Celestia had already collapsed on one knee — panting, mana completely dried up. Sweat soaked her hair, clinging to her cheeks.

Bordon wasn’t getting up at all. He was slumped against the cavern wall — unconscious, blood trailing from his lips. His shield lay on the ground with a deep claw mark carved straight across the metal.

Mariella’s incantations were shaky, half–formed runes flickering and collapsing before they even stabilized. Every time she fired a spell, the trajectory warped — missing the wolf by meters.

Elisha’s arrows no longer traveled straight. Her fingers trembled every time she nocked one, and her shots hit nothing but stone — the vibrations of the cavern echoing like cruel laughter.

Kael still held his sword — but that was all he could manage now. His stance was broken, and every step he took forward was met with the wolf casually batting him away like an insect.

Every breath burned.

Every heartbeat screamed.

But the Silverfang Wolf?

Its breathing was steady — calm — almost lazy.

A single predator vs eight so–called "elites."

And the difference was overwhelming.

Then —

— Awoooooooooooooooooooooo—

The Silverfang Wolf tilted its head toward the ceiling and released a long, bone–deep howl.

It wasn’t just a sound.

It was a skill.

[ Howl of Terror ]

Sound waves rippled across the cavern like a living force. The moment they hit the cadets — every single one of them froze.

Their muscles locked.

Their lungs constricted.

Their vision shook at the edges.

Their minds filled with primal fear.

Elisha’s legs buckled — she collapsed to her knees, bow dropping from her fingers.

Mariella’s hands shook uncontrollably — she couldn’t even breathe properly.

Celestia curled into herself — as if her body instinctively tried to protect her heart.

Kael — the so–called protagonist — bit his lip until blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he tried to fight the terror... but even he couldn’t move an arm.

"W–We’re... we’re going to die..." someone whispered, voice shaking.

"...no... not like this..."

This was death.

— tap.

— tap.

— tap...

Footsteps.

Slow. Calm. Steady.

A small sound — but to the trembling cadets, it hit their ears like a thunderclap.

Their stiff necks jerked slightly, eyes widening as they forced themselves to look toward the entrance.

And they saw him.

Lucien Ashborne.

Standing casually at the mouth of the boss chamber.

The boy who they despised from their core.

The scum.

The villain.

For a moment — shame flickered in their eyes.

Not because they were seen weak — but because they had no room to even feel embarrassed.

Death was in front of them.

And the devil from their classroom had just walked into hell with them.

Why is he here!?

Has he come to mock us?

Can’t he see the monster!?

Run away, idiot!

They wanted to shout — but their bodies wouldn’t obey.

Towering death was just ten meters away — and this lunatic stepped in like he was strolling through a garden.

*****

The wave of fear washed across the cavern — but it might as well have been wind brushing past my hair.

The system’s mental–resistance protection ignored it entirely.

They were frozen.

I wasn’t.

I cracked my neck lightly.

Yeah.

This was the perfect moment.

If I walked in earlier — before they’d hit rock bottom — they’d have still had pride.

If I waited too long — the knights would arrive when their vitality dipped too low.

Right now was the golden window.

If I step in right now — and kill this thing — then in their eyes...

I wouldn’t just be the villain.

I would be the one who saved their lives.

One giant step.

And the leverage over every future protagonist event would be mine.

I stepped forward into the chamber — feeling their wide, terrified eyes fix on my back.

******

I stepped forward with my shotgun slung across my shoulder — loaded with the most expensive ammo I had: Crimson Pierce Shells, an advanced attribute round I’d bought last night. Even stronger than mana bullets. Even one shell had cost twenty-five points each.

Everyone was trembling. Even Kael — the so-called protagonist — teeth chattering like a frightened child. First time seeing death. First time hearing bones break in front of you. Good experience, really.

A low growl vibrated through the cavern.

The Silverfang Wolf turned toward me.

And leaped.

I barely dodged — rolled — fired.

Miss.

I fired again — grazed its flank — barely a scratch.

I fired a third, fourth, fifth shot — and one of the Crimson Pierce pellets finally dug in a deeper wound along its rib — but even that was superficial.

C-class monster hide wasn’t a joke.

I retreated a few meters — chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat soaked my shirt. My left arm was cut open from a glancing claw swipe earlier — blood trickled warm down my wrist.

The beast regarded me — not cautious... amused.

I scanned the room.

Every one of them — the righteous, the noble, the elite — slowly sliding away toward the walls, trying to sneak out while the monster’s focus was on me.

" ... unbelievable," I exhaled — low, bitter.

So much for noble pride.

"Sigh... looks like I’ll have to use my last resort."

The wolf cocked its head. Its steel-colored fur rippled as it lowered its stance — curious — waiting to see what this human insect would do next.

I reached into my storage bag and pulled out something that made the onlookers blink in confusion.

Small jars.

From the kitchen.

Vinegar.

Chili oil.

Fermented pepper slurry.

"Is he going to season the monster...?" someone whispered faintly.

Idiots.

Let this genius educate their tiny brains.

Feline-type beasts like wolves possess an absurdly developed olfactory system. Their noses are their greatest strength — they smell prey from kilometers away.

So what happens if you weaponize smell against them?

Humans gag at vinegar.

Dogs? Cats? Wolves?

It’s torture.

I popped a jar open and hurled it straight at the wolf’s back.

CRACK—!

Glass shattered — vinegar and chili paste splattered across its fur.

The scent exploded across the cavern like a chemical bomb.

Even I winced.

And I had human tolerance.

The Silverfang Wolf howled — not to intimidate — but in pain.

It rolled. It thrashed — trying to wipe the corrosive scent off its nose and eyes. Its claws raked the stone floor desperately.

"This—" I grinned darkly, taking out another jar, "—is the power of human civilization, you dumb mutt."

Another throw — another shatter.

CRACK—!!

The wolf spasmed, eyes bloodshot, drool foaming — the scent ate into its senses like molten acid.

The beast tried to stand — staggered — collapsed — writhed — slammed its head on the ground to clear the scent.

It wasn’t even fighting anymore.

It was panicking.

"Did you think I brought just one?"

I reached into my storage pouch — pulled out five more jars. Vinegar was cheap — I’d stocked enough to drown a cow.

I threw them one after another — rapid fire.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK—!!

The entire cavern smelled like a nuclear vinegar plant exploded.

Kael gagged from twenty meters away. The noble princess was vomiting, showing her unsightly side to the masses. Mariella and Elisha were not much better.

Let’s not mention the extras.

They now envied Bordon who was unconscious.

The wolf was drowning in that smell.

That was my chance.

While it choked and writhed, blinded by scent, I quickly loaded three Crimson Pierce shells back to back — jammed them into the breach — snapped the shotgun shut.

I fixed my aim on the same wounded depression along its rib.

Exhale.

Focus.

"—Die."

Three shots — boom, boom, boom — fired in the exact same spot.

This time, the pellets tore through skin — through bone — and buried into the brainstem.

The Silverfang Wolf spasmed violently once more — then fell limp — its muzzle slamming the ground with a heavy thud.

Silence.

The boss was dead.

And the strongest cadets of the academy... had just watched the "scum" do what they couldn’t.

I rested the shotgun against my shoulder — breath still heavy — and glanced sideways at the trembling kids.

"Now then—" I smirked quietly, voice steady despite the blood on my arm, "shall we talk about ranks...?"