Kai wakes slowly, consciousness returning in fragments. Pain—sharp, burning pain in his side. The sword wound. He remembers the fight, the river, the fall.

  "Aria," Kai calls out, panic rising. "Aria?"

  He opens his eyes, panic surging through him. But then he sees her—lying beside him, still unconscious but breathing steadily. Her wounds are healed, her condition stable. "She's safe. She's alive," he thinks, relief washing over him.

  The panic recedes, replaced by confusion. He forces himself to breathe, to think. He looks at his side—the wound has been treated. "Someone—something—has been taking care of us both," he thinks.

  He looks around the chamber he's in. It's spacious, well-organized—not what he'd expect from a typical wolf den. A wolf sits near the entrance, watching him. It's not threatening, just observing. "Guarding, maybe?" Kai thinks.

  He tries to sit up—his body screams in protest, pain lancing through his side. He stumbles, falls back. His hand goes to his sword, but it's gone. "I'm defenseless," he thinks.

  The wolf notices his movement, its ears perking up. It watches him for a moment, then rises and pads out through the opening into the lobby beyond. Gone.

  He forces himself to breathe. "The wolves aren't attacking. That's something, at least," he thinks.

  Through the opening, he can see into a larger space—a lobby of sorts. Wolves move through it, going about their business, paying him little attention. A few glance in his direction, then go back to what they were doing. They move with coordination, aware of him but not threatening.

  He remembers something, vaguely, through the haze of pain and unconsciousness. "A face. A wolf's face—large, powerful, with reddish fur," he thinks.

  "What is going on here? Did the wolves save us?" Kai thinks. "This is impossible."

  Then he sees it. A big red wolf enters through the opening, moving into the chamber. Bigger than the others, more powerful. The kind that makes you understand, immediately, that this is not an ordinary wolf. It's clearly the leader. The others defer to it, give it space, respect it.

  "Thank you," Kai says, his voice hoarse and weak. "Thank you for saving us."

  The wolf doesn't respond—"Of course it doesn't, it's a wolf," Kai thinks.

  Then the wolf does something unexpected. It moves to a patch of dirt near the cave wall, and with its claws, it begins to write. Letters form in the dirt, scratched carefully, deliberately.

  **SAFE. REST. RECOVER.**

  Kai stares, shocked. "The wolf can write, can communicate," he thinks. "Impossible, but it's happening right in front of me."

  "How...?" Kai starts, but the wolf looks at him, its intelligent eyes meeting his. "This is not an ordinary wolf—this is something else entirely," he thinks.

  ---

  Tara had been keeping a record of the days since leaving the dungeon. More than two months had passed since he joined the pack—two months of growth and change.

  His first goal had been simple: make the pack stronger. He hunted with the wolves, similar to power leveling in games, letting them gain EXP as he took down powerful prey. They focused exclusively on strong opponents. If something was too dangerous for the pack, he went solo—one mistake could mean the death of a family member.

  His stored energy made him nearly unstoppable against higher-level opponents. It was practically cheating. His skills and levels improved at an incredible pace.

  But levels weren't everything. While communicating with Notail, he'd noticed something—the wolves had unused ability points accumulating, wasted potential. Monsters and creatures gained ability points when they leveled up, just like he did, but unlike him, they didn't understand how to use them properly.

  Notail had a rare Intelligence ability that made him smarter than the others. Tara showed him how to spend his ability points on Intelligence—to become smarter, more capable.

  Notail understood. Slowly at first, but he understood. He spent his ability points and increased his Intelligence. The change was remarkable. Notail became smarter, more capable, able to understand complex instructions, able to think more logically and independently.

  Then Tara did the same with the other wolves. Through Pack Coordination, using Notail as his translator where needed, he instructed them all: use your ability points, increase your Intelligence. Intelligence mattered more than raw levels or abilities—it enabled communication and coordination, making them exponentially stronger as a unit.

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  They all did it. The pack became many times more intelligent. Not human-like—they were still wolves, still animals. But they could communicate and work together in ways that ordinary wolves never could.

  The newfound intelligence transformed the den. Without his active involvement, the wolves reorganized the cave on their own—creating designated areas for resting, storage, and separate chambers. They even made a special room for Tara.

  This had become his family. He'd named the other wolves after Latin numerals: Unolf, Dosolf, Tresolf, and so on. Too lazy to remember proper names, he defaulted to calling for Unolf whenever he needed something done. At first, whoever was nearby would fetch Unolf. Over time, Unolf started staying close to Tara, becoming his de facto assistant—always by his side, ready for orders. Eventually, Tara actually learned to recognize him.

  The cubs were growing stronger too. They usually stayed at the den, where injured or exhausted pack members would guard them while the rest hunted. The rest of the time, they stayed with Notail, who played with them and taught them various skills. Thanks to his stealthy nature, they became proficient in stealth hunting and even ventured on short trips to hunt smaller, lower-level prey.

  Then Tara began expanding their territory. Using clones, he started patrolling for dangers and prey. Initially, one clone covered a 2-mile radius. As they hunted stronger prey, he gradually increased to four clones covering a 10-mile radius.

  Everything was going smoothly, or so it seemed.

  Troubles don't knock before arriving, they say, but this was something he'd known would happen eventually, something he'd been ignoring: contact with humans.

  When it happened, he was confused. But in the end, he decided to save them. The humans were moved to an extra chamber. Unolf volunteered to stand guard—probably because he didn't trust them.

  ---

  Back to the present. Tara sits in his spacious chamber. The inventory bag lies to the side, along with the grimoire resting on a wooden block. He's read all of Tejran's notes, books, and scrolls—all except the grimoire. A fortunate side effect: he can now understand the language of this world.

  But today, there's something else on his mind.

  "I've saved two humans being chased by soldiers, called traitors, fleeing from 'Xian,' whatever that is," Tara thinks. "I don't know what it means, who these people are, why they're being hunted."

  "I don't know this world, how humans here think, how they'll react to our existence," he thinks. "Will these humans see us as a threat, something to be studied, or something to be feared?"

  "The risk is real," he thinks. "If humans see the pack as a threat, see intelligent wolves as dangerous, decide to hunt us down... the pack could be destroyed."

  "But the decision's made," Tara thinks. "Now I need to get as much information as possible from these two."

  "Worst case, if they prove to be a threat, endanger the pack... I'll eliminate them," he thinks. "For the pack's safety. I won't hesitate."

  "But first, I need to communicate," Tara thinks. "Talk to them. Ask questions. Get answers."

  "How, though? I can't speak human language in wolf form," Tara thinks. "But wait... I can write. Yes! I can scratch words into dirt. If these people are literate, maybe I can communicate that way."

  "No idea about literacy rates here—whether common people can read, whether soldiers can, whether these two can," he thinks. "But it's worth trying."

  As he finishes his thoughts, Unolf arrives. "Humans awake."

  Tara shifts to his wolf form and moves to the extra chamber. The man is still weak. "Should probably wait before trying to communicate, let him recover," he thinks.

  But then the man speaks. "Thank you," he says, his voice hoarse and weak. "Thank you for saving us."

  Tara moves to a patch of dirt near the cave wall and begins to write with his claws. Letters form in the dirt, scratched carefully.

  **SAFE. REST. RECOVER.**

  ********* Chapter end *********