They weren’t sticking close to Greenwild Cross anymore.
This was real wilderness now—farther away from the newbie-friendly fields of Horned Rabbits and Spiky Pigs.
And here, it wasn’t fluffy critters hopping around.
It was wolves.
Specifically, Shadow Wolves.
Ren had made damn sure to put together a bigger group for exactly this reason.
Shadow Wolves weren’t regular wolves.
They were designed for Level 3 players—nasty, fast, and big enough to rip your face off if you weren’t paying attention.
In Towerbound, you couldn’t see the monster’s exact level floating over its head.
Instead, you got color indicators:
- White name: Same level as you.
- Gray name: Weaker than you—barely worth XP.
- Orange name: Tougher than you—higher risk, higher reward.
- Red name: Double your level. Good luck.
- Black name with skulls: Death on four legs. Run.
The wolves ahead were gleaming orange.
Which meant they were above the party’s level, but still doable.
Technically.
If Ren had been some kind of badass time-traveling swordsman, he would’ve charged into the wilds solo, swinging blades and cashing in on high-level loot bonuses.
In Towerbound, killing monsters above your level didn’t just grant more XP and loot—
you also got Challenge Bonuses that gave buffs or rare drops.
A real grinder’s dream.
But Ren wasn’t that kind of time traveler.
He had spent most of his previous life crouched safely in alchemy labs, stirring cauldrons and grinding herbs.
And he didn’t regret it for a second.
Even now, with all his knowledge of the future, if you gave him a giant sword and told him to fight?
He’d still rather hide behind somebody else and throw heals.
Fighting hurt.
Fighting sucked.
Leave the heroics to the meatheads.
Still, the Shadow Wolves weren’t so far above them they couldn’t manage.
If they fought smart—and if Ren could stay the hell out of the way—they might actually rake in some decent experience.
And the very first fight broke out almost immediately.
A pack of three Shadow Wolves lunged out from a copse of trees, snarling and snapping.
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The three warriors clashed swords against teeth, the ranger fired arrows like crazy, and the mage… mostly screamed and threw her weak firebolts.
Ren?
Ren was hiding at the way back, desperately trying to target teammates for heals.
Kanuka wasn’t doing much better.
Both clerics were technically throwing heals—
but between the two of them, they were maybe worth the value of one and a half decent clerics.
Maybe.
If you squinted.
Hard.
Still, somehow, they didn’t die.
The wolves were tough, but the warriors held the line, the ranger chipped away at their flanks, and eventually the last Shadow Wolf went down with a final whimper.
Victory.
Panting, bruised, and half the party bleeding, but hey.
Victory.
Now came the loot.
The wolves dropped the usual:
- Shadow Wolf Pelts
- Wolf Fangs
- Raw Wolf Meat if skinned
- And very rarely, a Shadow Wolf Fur, used for cloaks that boosted dodge chance.
Ren had set the group loot to Leader Distributed, so he would be the one splitting up the drops.
Not everyone was thrilled about that.
Especially the ranger and one of the warriors, both of whom had picked up Skinning with the appropriate skill book as their secondary skills.
Skinning wolves and having to hand over the loot didn’t sit right with them.
But Ren didn’t care.
He wasn’t hoarding anything unfairly.
He wasn’t giving himself bonuses.
He was keeping track of all the drops, and once enough piled up, he would split it evenly by value.
No favoritism.
No mess.
It was the only fair way to do it with a temporary, thrown-together group.
Even if some of them looked like they wanted to bite him more than the wolves had.
Ren ignored the dirty looks and checked their haul.
Not bad for the first fight.
But they’d need a lot more coordination if they wanted to survive the Shadow Wolf territory—
let alone find the herbs they actually came here for.
He tightened his grip on his staff, muttered a quick self-heal to patch up a scratch, and pushed deeper into the wilds.
If today was going to suck anyway?
Might as well make it profitable.
The next pack came faster than expected.
They barely made it fifty paces deeper into the forest before more snarling erupted from the underbrush.
“Incoming!” one of the warriors shouted.
The group scrambled into a defensive line, weapons flashing up.
Ren immediately bolted for the nearest tree, practically diving behind it, peeking out from the trunk like the world’s most cowardly cleric. Because he was.
He was farther back than he should’ve been—
way farther.
But he didn’t care.
Self-preservation was a virtue.
Let the meatheads handle the stabbing.
Kanuka, bless him, was actually ready this time.
He raised his staff, started channeling a heal spell—
—and just as he released it, a Shadow Wolf leapt through the air, right between him and the wounded warrior he was trying to heal.
The golden glow struck the wolf full in the chest.
The Shadow Wolf shimmered slightly, visibly rejuvenating, and then hit the ground snarling with even more energy.
“WHAT THE FUCK, KANUKA?!” the warrior screamed.
Even the Shadow Wolf looked confused, almost pausing mid-snarl like it was wondering why it suddenly felt great.
Ren slapped a hand over his face from behind his precious tree.
“You’re healing the wolves now?” he shouted.
“I didn’t mean to!” Kanuka yelped. “It jumped into it! It was an accident!”
The ranger cursed and started rapid-firing arrows, the mage flung a half-formed fireball, and the warriors piled in swinging like their lives depended on it.
Which, honestly, it did.
Ren, grumbling under his breath the whole time, poked just enough of his staff out from behind the tree to throw healing spells when absolutely necessary—
and absolutely no closer.
It wasn’t pretty.
It wasn’t even remotely coordinated.
But somehow—
maybe because the wolves were still a little confused by the magical random heal—
the party managed to drag the fight out long enough to survive.
Barely.
The final Shadow Wolf collapsed with a whimper.
The loot screen popped up: more pelts, more fangs, another scrap of raw fur.
Kanuka stood there, looking mortified, still clutching his staff like he was waiting for someone to shoot him.
Ren walked over, very slowly, still keeping half the tree between him and any potential threats.
He clapped Kanuka on the shoulder.
“You’re not banned from healing yet,” he said dryly. “But if you buff another enemy, I’m officially selling your soul to the next necromancer we meet.”
Kanuka groaned and muttered something about how maybe the wolves just needed hugs too.
The thief let out a loud, theatrical groan.
“You wanna hug a wolf,” he said, “make sure you update your will first.”
Ren just shook his head.
At this rate, it wasn’t going to be the monsters that killed them—
it was going to be their own damn clerics.