I didn’t hesitate. I snatched the floating flask out of the air and uncorked it with a flick of my thumb. The scent hit me instantly—smoky, sweet, and somehow electric, like static in a thunderstorm. Not quite whisky, not quite anything natural. My instincts screamed this was a bad idea, but the wolves were already regrouping.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered, and took a swig.
The burn hit my throat like a landslide—hot, heavy, and strangely invigorating. My head spun for a heartbeat, vision blurring at the edges, and then—clarity. Crystal-clear clarity. Every heartbeat, every vibration in the ground, every twitch of muscle in the wolves—I could feel it.
Sherry snatched the flask next. “If we’re dying, we’re dying drunk,” she said, and gulped a mouthful before tossing it to Meryl, who caught it with trembling hands and downed the last drops.
A beat of silence passed. Then, like a firestorm, everything changed.
A golden glow erupted around us, curling into our limbs, wrapping around our weapons. My sword shimmered, the rust burning away like smoke in the wind. When the light faded, I was holding a blade that looked like it belonged in a hero’s hands—sleek, polished, and humming with low, drunken energy.
Buff Applied: Rumiel’s Blessing
+100 Strength
Immune to Fear
Immune to Pain
Accuracy: Unpredictable
Status: Drunk as hell
“Whoa…” Meryl blinked, his blade now pulsing with a bluish hue. “Everything’s…slightly sideways, but I feel amazing.”
Sherry let out a bark of laughter and spun in a circle. “I feel like I could bench press the moon. Let’s go!”
The wolves didn’t wait. The larger one launched toward me again, its eyes narrowing in. But this time, I didn’t flinch. I sidestepped effortlessly—maybe by accident, maybe not—and drove my blade upward in a wide arc, fueled by adrenaline and Rumiel’s concoction.
The blade connected with a satisfying thunk.
73 Damage!
The wolf let out a bark and tumbled backward, crashing into a boulder with a yelp. It didn’t die, but it was bleeding now. Finally. Finally.
Sherry whooped and charged at the second wolf, swinging her blade like a madwoman in a blender. Her first swing missed entirely, her second clipped its ear, but the third was a wild, spinning overhead slash that slammed into its shoulder like a meteor.
71 Damage!!
72 Damage!
70 Damage!
The force of it sent the beast tumbling into a heap, legs flailing.
Meryl darted in, his footing surprisingly nimble despite his staggering sway. He jabbed low, slicing into the wolf’s flank with a drunken yell.
85 Damage!
"Okay, this stuff’s insane," I muttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My sword pulsed in my grip like it was eager for more. “Rumiel, I don’t know what the hell this is, but it’s working.”
“Of course it is!” she chirped into our minds. “Now finish this before the alcohol settles in!”
The wolves regrouped, snarling, circling us again, but now they hesitated. They could smell it—something had shifted. We weren’t prey anymore. We were unpredictable, roaring with unearned confidence. I felt my vision beginning to blur, but I was ready to fight.
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The larger wolf came first. It pounced at Sherry, who stumbled—tripped on her own feet, really—but the stumble turned into a slide that brought her under its leap. She didn’t falter and slashed upward as she slid.
75 Damage!
The wolf howled and skidded to the ground, limping now.
Sherry grinned as she stumbled to her feet again. “I totally did that on purpose.”
Meryl, wide-eyed and laughing at Sherry, tripped over a rock mid-spin. His laughter turned into a yelp as his sword slipped from his grip, sailing through the air like a frisbee.
The blade wobbled through the air like a thrown butter knife—until it smacked into the second wolf’s face pommel-first, stunning it.
Feral Wolf: Dazed!
-22 Damage!
I took the opportunity and charged. My steps were lopsided, more of an awkward gallop than a sprint, but it didn’t matter. I leapt into the air, sword raised high, and came down with everything I had, screaming like a lunatic.
When my blade came down, it was half-way into the dirt.
The wolf wasn’t where I thought it’d be. It had recovered faster than expected, sidestepping with a snarl just as I landed. My knees buckled as I went to retrieve my blade, but the wolf was faster.
The blur of claws and fangs slammed into me head on, knocking me clean off my feet as everything went sideways.
Claws slammed into my chest as I felt the wolf’s weight crushed down on me, hot breath curling over my face in thick, ragged bursts. Its jaws snapped deep into my shoulder immediately sending a stream of blood into the cragged earth. I gritted my teeth expecting excruciating pain, but instead felt nothing.
Status: Pinned
-84 HP!
Rumiel's voice echoed again. “You're immune to pain, but not death! Get up!”
I twisted, tried to shove it off, but its weight was solid, pressing down with all the force of a nightmare. My fingers clawed at the dirt, searching for anything—my sword, a rock, a stick—hell, I would’ve taken a well-sharpened pencil at that point.
“Sherry!” I shouted, voice half-strangled.
The wolf’s breath reeked of old blood and rot, its jaw grinding tighter around my shoulder. I could hear the wet crunch of muscle. I couldn't scream—there was no pain, but the sound alone made me want to throw up.
Then, behind the beast—
A shadow.
A blur.
A blade sank into the beast’s back.
75 Damage!
Feral Wolf defeated!
The body went limp on top of me. Blood pooled, thick and warm, soaking into my clothes as its weight pressed me deeper into the ground.
Sherry stood over us, panting, chest heaving to push the corpse off of my body. Then, her eyes flicked down to my shoulder.
“That’s really gonna hurt when you wake up tomorrow.”
“Hopefully this is all a dream, and I won’t be swimming in blood when I wake up,” I wheezed, shooting a gaze towards Meryl still struggling against the remaining wolf. Meryl was swiping at the air barefisted with what looked like absolute conviction—unfortunately, the wolf was a solid three feet to his left.
“Hold still!” he shouted, nearly tripping over his own boots as the wolf danced around him.
The beast snarled and lunged, but Meryl—by some divine mix of luck and booze—fell backward just in time to dodge it. He landed with a thud, blinking up at the sky. “All planned.”
Sherry helped me to my feet with one hand, already limping toward the fray with her other gripping her blood stained sword. “Let’s finish this before the alcohol really kicks in.”
“I already feel like I’m dying,” I muttered, scooping up my sword with my non-bleeding arm. My vision was tilting, the trees were swaying in rhythm, and I was ninety percent sure the ground was breathing.
The wolf growled, circling us like we were fresh prey—but there was hesitation in its steps. We were staggering, sure, I was bleeding, definitely, but we were still glowing with a golden hue and moving like broken marionettes with nothing to lose.
Meryl leapt up suddenly. “Charge!” he yelled, then ran in the wrong direction, promptly tripping over a root and faceplanting with a muffled, “Retreat!”
Sherry laughed so hard she nearly dropped her weapon. “He’s our distraction. Let’s go!”
The wolf pounced at Meryl’s downed body, but I got there first. I charged and tripped halfway, but used that momentum to ram my shoulder into the beast’s side.
32 Damage!
The impact was enough to knock it off balance. Sherry was right behind me, spinning in a rampage.
66 Damage!
58 Damage!
The wolf staggered, then turned to run. Meryl, who had found his blade—and blindly threw it again.
Feral Wolf: Dazed!
-22 Damage!
The three of us stood over the dazed wolf, swaying like drunk pirates. I raised my sword. Sherry raised hers. Meryl had his fists, apparently.
“All together now?” Sherry asked, grinning.
“One…” I started.
“Two…” Meryl hiccuped.
“THREE!” we all shouted.
Our weapons (and Meryl’s punch) came down at once.
Feral Wolf defeated!
I stood there in silence for a moment, swaying gently before the world faded to black.
