Unholy Player-Chapter 51: Like a Hawk

As the wolves searched the area with agitated movements, they soon split into smaller groups under the direction of their alpha and scattered into the forest.

"I’m lucky their sense of smell isn’t that sharp," Adyr muttered with a smirk as he watched the wolves divide into pairs and head off in different directions.

He had noticed this trait during his observations the day before. Unlike ordinary wolves, they didn’t mark their territory with urine. Instead, they relied solely on visual claw markings.

His theory had been confirmed during the slaughter in the cave. The cave’s natural ventilation should have helped carry his scent deeper inside, making it even easier for the wolves to detect him—if their sense of smell had been sharp. Yet despite that, the usually alert and territorial creatures hadn’t noticed him until he stepped into view.

He still didn’t know what kind of evolutionary shift had dulled their sense of smell, but it worked in his favor. Had these wolves retained the olfactory strength of normal ones—said to be a hundred times more sensitive than a human’s—and combined it with their enhanced power, the hunt would’ve been far more difficult.

After mentally noting the direction each wolf had taken, Adyr climbed down from the tree and began tracking the pair that had headed toward the most isolated area.

From the beginning, he had never intended to face the entire pack. To defeat a predator pack, one had to think like a predator—and Adyr possessed an exceptional talent for that kind of empathy.

After tracking them for a while, the pair of wolves reached a small pond beneath a sunlit waterfall. Clearly, the hunt followed by pursuing Adyr had worn them down—they had stopped for a drink. That worked in his favor.

As the wolves took turns drinking and keeping watch, Adyr moved behind a tree and quietly unfolded his wings.

The rest had eased most of the muscle strain, and he estimated he could stay airborne for at least a minute. Given the maneuver he had in mind, it would probably drop to thirty seconds—but that was all he needed.

He gave his wings two light flaps to test them, then pulled a length of rope from his leather pouch and formed a loop at one end.

Focusing back on the wolves, he began his approach—silent, hidden. freewebnσvel.cѳm

It wasn’t just their sense of smell that was dulled. Their awareness in general seemed impaired. Combined with Adyr’s practiced stealth, they didn’t notice him until he was almost on top of them.

From behind a large rock, he waited for the right moment. Then, wings flaring, he surged forward, ignoring the wolf on guard and charging straight for the one drinking.

Their instincts kicked in too late. The drinking wolf hesitated just a second longer than the other. It was enough.

Adyr hurled the rope, the loop catching the wolf’s neck. With a sharp flap of his wings, he shot upward, the wolf now dragging behind him.

Make it ten seconds, he corrected himself mid-flight, gritting his teeth as the wolf thrashed violently, its weight pulling against the rope.

It was heavy and struggling hard as it began to choke against the tightening noose.

Using every second before his wings gave out, Adyr reached a thick branch nearby and perched quickly, tying off the rope around it before his strength failed.

"Huhf... That was fun," he muttered with a grin, watching the wolf writhe midair while the other stood below under the tree, snarling and baring its teeth.

For a moment, with his wings spread and prey hanging below, he felt like a hawk—or something more.

The sensation was unfamiliar. And he liked it.

The wolf hanging from the rope gradually slowed its movements, its body weakening as it began to lose consciousness from lack of air. Meanwhile, the other one paced anxiously around the base of the tree, but its build made climbing impossible.

Adyr had already retracted his wings into his back and begun to rest, conserving energy as he prepared for the fight ahead.

With his [Physique] stat now at 20, he could probably handle both wolves—but only if he went all out. And even then, winning without injury seemed unlikely.

Unlike the two pregnant wolves in the cave, these two were in full fighting condition, exhaustion or not.

When he had rested enough, Adyr reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a kitchen knife. Without hesitation, he hurled it at the wolf circling below.

The wolf’s reflexes were sharp—far too sharp. It dodged with ease, fluid and precise.

But Adyr didn’t stop there. He kept throwing, emptying the pouch of every knife and fork he had scavenged. The wolf evaded each one effortlessly, its movements practiced and instinctive. But the barrage served its true purpose—it was never meant to kill.

It was a distraction.

During the assault, a notification appeared, recognizing his throwing talent. Adyr ignored it, keeping his full attention on the fight.

The moment the last fork left his hand, he leapt from the branch, shield in hand, descending fast.

The wolf had just sidestepped the final throw and hadn’t expected a direct assault. It reacted too late. By the time Adyr landed, he was already braced, shield raised.

The wolf lunged, jaws snapping. Adyr met the attack head-on, blocking it with the reinforced edge of his small shield. Its fangs clamped down hard on the metal, grinding with force, as if biting into solid wood.

With the wolf’s mouth occupied, Adyr struck.

His right hand swung the short sword toward its exposed side, but the wolf twisted with surprising speed and avoided the blade by a breath.

Adyr didn’t hesitate. He stepped in, forcing the wolf back with the shield, keeping its jaws busy as he pressed the attack. Slash after slash, each strike aimed at the smallest opening.

He had the edge in strength—barely—and just enough speed to keep up. The wolf was faster and more agile, but Adyr’s relentless pressure gave it no room to breathe. Every time it tried to retreat, he was already there, shield-first, closing the distance.

Then it happened.

The wolf backed into a tree, its escape cut off.

Adyr didn’t miss the opening. He rammed the shield forward, pinning the beast by the snout, locking its movement. With a final, calculated thrust, he drove the short sword into its throat.

The wolf convulsed once. Then went still.