Fay used her movement technique. Her form went blurry, as if she were a ghost.

Radeon's whip snapped after her. A series of afterimages chased Fay across the clearing, nipping at shoulders, ankles, waist.

Each crack came close enough to tug her hair, to sting the air beside her skin.

He could have pushed further. He could have drawn blood. Radeon chose not to. An injury now was inconvenient.

The miners watched master and disciple train and forgot to breathe. It felt like a life and death struggle, trump cards thrown without hesitation.

Awe sat beside jealousy in their throats. This was the life they imagined when they heard the word cultivator.

Carefree. Unrestrained. Caring only for martial arts. Some hearts wavered. Would it not be safer to stay with such a man?

Then hunger returned and the thought turned dull. Safe did not mean well fed.

Reality poured them a cold bucket of water, and they went back to tightening straps and counting rations.

Another day passed. They reached the edge of a forest that locals called Wolves Retreat.

Radeon was not concerned. For him it was opportunity. Wild beasts, steeped long enough in the energy of heaven and earth, could cultivate by instinct.

Campion was proof of that. Given proper resources, and a proper hand, such beasts became loyal companions.

He called Fay over and placed a manual into her hands. Breath of the Wild Taming Arts.

It was not a brute method. It tuned a person toward animals, offered a pact instead of a collar.

More efficient. More stable. Loyalty that did not sour into resentment.

Then Radeon passed Fay a list of tasks he needed her to do.

His gaze slid to Campion. He was not using the animal's strength enough.

Radeon looked over at the men, murmuring about how dangerous the place was.

It was not that they distrusted Radeon. It was the forest.

Wolves Retreat still raised chills in men who had never even seen a wolf.

Radeon lifted his voice with qi so it carried over the refugees.

"Heed my words. No wolf would dare attack you today," he said.

He let the silence swallow it, then said it again, deliberate, like he was nailing the promise into the air.

"No wolf will attack," he said again.

He had a plan. He needed someone who could see the good in men, and the rot.

Radeon moved to the trees and looped his threads around a trunk thick enough for three men to hold hands around it.

He set them humming with qi, a high frequency tremor that turned the wood's strength against itself.

The trunk shuddered, groaned, then gave way and crashed down within minutes.

He sliced it into thick planks. He wanted a real hauler this time. Not a wagon. Not a carriage.

Something closer to ten of the largest carriages stitched together. A true carrier for heavy goods.

He dried the wood slowly with qi, careful. Sloppy construction would kill people.

Campion watched and shifted its weight, as if it wanted to help. Radeon shook his head and stepped in close. It was worried about Fay's safety, and he knew it.

He had already told it the truth. It could not go with Fay this time. Campion's intimidating visage would only invite trouble and draw the ire of the forest's inhabitants.

So Campion stayed, watching from the side.

The miners saw Radeon keep his distance. They were still within eyeshot, yet they felt the coldness in it, even with protection promised.

A man like him could guarantee safety, and withdraw it on a whim.

Fay walked into the forest's belly with the manual and a tight throat. She read as she moved. The technique looked simple on paper.

She channeled qi along specific meridians and matched it to a breathing rhythm. Inhale. Exhale. The air changed.

With each cycle she felt her senses loosen and widen. She became a bird soaring through high wind.

Then a rabbit hopping through brush, alert to every tremor. Then she touched the ferocity of a beast.

Not one beast. A pack. At least thirty.

Fay climbed a tree in two quick bounds and crouched among the branches.

She stilled her breath and tuned herself the way the manual described.

She let her qi soften at the edges, reaching for the wolves without pushing.

White fur, thick enough to laugh at a northern winter. Bodies stretched long and heavy, three meters from muzzle to tail, built to run a man down and still have breath for another chase.

Then their emotion hit her. The first wave struck Fay hard. Oppression. A weight that sat on the pack like a stone, forcing every thought to bend.

They all showed deference to one, not out of respect, out of fear. There was a tyrant among them, four meters long, a leader who acted like a lion while still living in a wolf's skin.

It took the fattest shares first. It swallowed most of what the pack brought down and left the rest to gnaw bone and pride.

Fay's eyes flicked back to the list Radeon gave. The line on the list was clear. Tame at least ten wolves.

"If Master wants these as helpers, would having more be better?" she murmured, barely more than breath.

The forest answered. Ears pricked. Heads turned. The pack heard her whisper like it had been spoken into their skulls.

The leader's attention locked on her branch. It lunged. Fangs bared, body a grey spear launching straight for her throat.

Fay snapped her shield up. The wolf hit it like a battering ram. Its jaws clamped down and its fangs swallowed the shield's rim.

Hot drool ran down Fay's forearm in thick ropes. The stink of blood and wet fur filled her nose.

The rest of the pack did not idle. Shadows moved in the brush. Bodies slid around her tree and the next, closing the circle.

Fay did not wait to be penned tighter. She braced the shield and with her free hand took out small needles, plain iron.

She fed them heat and qi until they tingled between her fingers, then flicked one straight into the leader's throat.

The wolf jerked as if stung by fire. It recoiled, hacking. It coughed violently and spat the needle out.

Fay took the opening. Her whip lashed to the left side of its neck.

The wolf tried to twist away, but the whip ran longer than it expected. It coiled around its throat and cinched.

The wolf ran. Fay went with it, dragged into the air. The leader tore through the trees and tried to shake her off, slamming her past trunks, whipping her through branches.

Fay kept her calm. She landed on each trunk with a step, toes catching bark.

She pushed qi along the whip and tried to strangle it. The wolf fought back with its own energy, thick and feral, resisting the pressure.

Fay clicked her tongue. She did not want to be stuck in a tug of war. She shortened the whip and swung herself forward, riding the wolf's back.

She looped the whip around her right wrist, then used that same hand to grab the wolf by the neck.

Qi poured into her grip. Her fingers clamped like vice grips, sinking into fur and muscle.

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