Decades passed.
-
Every year, he returned to that cliff, again and again, staring out into the endless horizon.
But why—
Why did the sky feel further away each time?
His body grew older with each year, yet his strength only grew. His size had become unimaginable, and the mountain trembled with his mere breath…
And yet—
The world above him felt more distant than ever.
Why…?
Where did this sinking feeling come from?
-
Time passed.
One day, a very long time later, he came again to that cliff, the tallest cliff, one last time...
He was no longer the wolf cub he once was. He had gone from a powerful wolf, to a great leader, then a king, and now, he was alone, his aged appearance evident.
He was tired.
The air was still, and he could feel his death approaching.
It was time to go…
He gazed into the horizon one last time.
But—
It was different this time.
He saw 'it'.
Something in the distance…
That was—
A flicker of green, no, a crack? No…
Where had he seen this before?
It was a hole in the horizon, a tear in the sky, but…
He raised his head higher as his old bones creaked. Through that gap, he saw 'something', a memory, distant and bright, flashing across the void.
It had been a very, very long time…
It had been so long that he had almost forgotten.
He saw the boy again, now old, broken, and not unlike himself. He was standing in front of familiar faces, guarding them, bloodied, dying, and holding his sword one last time.
He was falling apart.
Who was he fighting?
Why was he fighting?
None of that mattered, because—
The elderly wolf, or rather, 'he', felt rage, a rage so deep that the world around him began to melt in the flames of his ethereal wrath.
—!
That old man, why was he protecting them!?
Why were those faces so familiar!?
Why was 'he' giving everything away!!
It should have been him! It should have always been him!!!
Wait… him?
The elderly wolf froze.
Why did he think that?
The elderly wolf was shocked when it realized that it instinctively put itself in the shoes of that young boy. But… why was that…? Why…
The snow trembled beneath him.
He looked up again through the hole, but it was closing.
The light faded, leaving only the empty horizon…
The 'hollow' feeling returned, but far worse than before.
It was painful, too painful!
Why?
Why!
Then—
He saw it!
He peered back into the horizon, eyes red, but this time, he did not find the gap in the void. Instead, he saw the silhouette of an enormous existence. It was so vast that it made mountains look like pebbles, and it was so distant the elderly wolf 'could never imagine himself reaching it'.
—!
This colossal wolf blended into the horizon, almost like a living island. It was too distant to see, but the elderly wolf could tell that this creature carried not only a mountain on its back, but also forests and rivers. 'It' was like a living continent, one inhabited by millions of wolves, far more than itself.
The hollowness grew even greater.
In that instant, the elderly wolf understood…
How dare it call itself a king!
The thing on the horizon! That existence, that was a true king!
A Beast King that carried the world!
Compared to it, the elderly wolf was a mere joke!
Look! He stood there, dying alone atop the mountain! But that thing, the existence on the horizon! Even after its death, it would still provide for its pack far beyond its end!
How dare he!
How dare he!
How dare he!
Death had come for him, not in battle, but in silence, as if mocking him for being too small, too insignificant. The old wolf let out a final breath that shook the snow.
He would die empty—!
But—
Just then, the great existence on the horizon turned its gaze towards him.
The world shook!
The elderly wolf's fur stood on end.
In a mere moment, a flash of lightning seemed to strike its mind.
He remembered those eyes!
How could he forget!?
He remembered that door…
That tree…
Those faces…!
And then he understood.
Those weren't wandering memories, no, they were his!
But—!
It wasn't only that, but also his future!
How was that possible!?
It didn't matter!
He refused to let that future happen!
Not again!
Again…?
A sharp pain shot through his mind.
He violently shook his head.
With a glare, his eyes sharpened, and he exploded with a tremendous momentum.
BOOM!
The old wolf slammed his paw into the snow, the sound cracked through the void like thunder, and with that single action, the wolf, no, 'Hexfill' remembered his name!
The White Wolf roared, and the world shattered!
And—
The trial truly began!
-
The moment Hexfill remembered his name, everything came back to him. He froze as his elderly body shook from the recoil of countless memories flooding back into his mind.
At the same time, the world blurred.
What had once been a mountain surrounded by an endless field of snow, changed without warning. The storm peeled away, then slammed back like an angry tide, as a new environment took shape around him. Hexfill stood in a vast open plain with snowy hills rolling across a high plateau. The sky was a white wall, and the wind was like knives that pierced through his fur.
His eyes widened, and his back arched.
A growl rolled out as his instincts immediately alerted him to the incoming danger.
His body, once a towering giant, was now a one-meter-tall, old and experienced wolf.
Woosh! From the snow ahead, another wolf pounced from the white shadow. It was the same size, the same age, and there was no time to think as the shape leapt towards him with a bloodthirsty aura. Hexfill met it head-on. His claw flashed, crushing down on the attacking figure's head, turning it into a bloody pool of pulp.
The first enemy fell!
Awooooooooooooooooo!
A choir of howls rose in the storm.
Hexfill didn't wait. He dove into the snow and shot towards the closest sound. The battle quickly became a brutal brawl of bestial blood, where countless unseen figures exchange claws and fangs, ripping and tearing, shredding apart their enemies in an uncontrolled frenzy.
Another wolf came, then two, then four, then a dozen.
Swoosh! Swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh!
Each time he killed, he lost a piece of himself in return. His pain built in layers, but his rage burned even hotter, until the anger became the only thing still holding him together, forming a fire fierce enough to drown the emptiness.
He did not stop!
His breath spilled red steam as his limbs slowed down.
Age pressed down on him like a stone. He knew that he was already at death's door, and his old bones were already crumbling. This was his final battle!
He would not go out in silence!
He would not allow it!
NO!
He had reclaimed his name, he had reclaimed his memories, but the road that led him to this point in life still blurred with time. Hexfill was unaware, but this 'realm' was far from normal. What he was experiencing was not a simple 'dispersion of self', instead, he was mixing with all of 'his selves' from the previous world loops. Unfortunately, this only furthered his dispersal, allowing the white wolf to bury its claws even deeper into his mind.
In the end, it didn't matter, he simply fought, he fought and fought, he fought until he turned to dust!
A leg snapped, but he kept moving. His fur ripped in ribbons, his teeth cracked, his claws tore out, but he kept moving. His white coat had become red, its crimson color contrasting with the snow.
But he kept moving!
His eyes stayed lit, unwilling to turn away, unwilling to extinguish!
Another slash, his left foreleg failed, and he fell.
Two wolves, slightly larger, jumped him at once.
He lunged with his last good foreleg.
Swoosh!
His broken teeth still found a throat. He bit down and refused to let go. Blood filled his mouth as he growled through the flesh, releasing a broken beast's cry that rang through the snowy plateau.
The second wolf clamped on his hind leg and ripped it free, directly tearing it from his body.
Hexfill's jaw only sank deeper as he twisted and tore out the neck his jaw had wrapped around.
One dead.
The second wolf, his hind leg still in its jaws, slipped back into the storm and disappeared.
Hexfill's eyes darkened.
He shoved himself forward on his two remaining legs.
Hexfill howled, with only silence returning a call.
Swoosh! Three shadows hit him from the side!
Bang!
Jaws closed around his torn torso as he felt long teeth sink through his ribs.
Then—
Everything opened with a guttural tear! Scraaaaak!
—!
Hexfill convulsed in pain. His body was a bloody and mutilated mess, but as he writhed in agony, something strange began to happen…
He could feel something beating deep within his chest!
Each heartbeat was deafening, as it slowly forced a different memory into his mind with each crack.
Ba-dump!
Time began to slow…
Ba-dump!
He experienced many things while his body was being torn apart piece by piece.
His father's face bloomed as his front paw was torn away.
The Alliance Leaders' emblem flashed as a strip of belly lifted off like wet paper.
The Second Calamity blinked past, as another set of teeth closed around his tail.
Ba-dump!
The Dusk Dwellers, the Duskwood, 'his approval', and the 'fault' that sat on his back like a guillotine.
Red blood splattered like paint, staining the snow…
Ba-dump!
Darkwell, and the night it should have ended…
He experienced many things while his body was being torn apart…
'That night', the night before the fall of Darkwell, that was when the 'truth' should have come out. It was then that 'something' was supposed to happen that would send him and the Mercenary Alliance spiraling into the abyss.
His last leg was crushed.
Ba-dump!
His vision darkened at the edges.
He pushed his mind harder into the past, no, the future, no, both.
What happened?
What happened…
What happened—!
WHY!?
He had seen beyond this point when he was still the giant wolf. Those were future days, He knew what came, or what should have come.
The Mercenary Alliance would fracture, and what remained would run for the north like hunted prey.
His mind flickered from scene to scene.
The desperate 'him' that was chased away and hunted down.
The uncontrollable 'him' that swung a sword and slaughtered unendingly.
The elderly 'him' that fell before his fallen subordinates, crying tears of blood.
Ba-dump!
His body was so damaged at this point that pain began to stop registering in his mind.
He didn't care. His mind was elsewhere…
Hexfill forced himself as hard as he could to think back between the two sets of memories and try to figure out what had changed.
He couldn't, he just couldn't understand.
Something had changed.
Something important!
Where?
There!
Arthur was missing from those futures, no, all the Heroes were missing. Only Elena moved through them like a shadow, like a constant, like an anchor!
Why was that!?
The darkness crept in as the 'candle flickered'.
A flash—Imai, The Grand Gathering, the conclusion… it was different! The title that was supposed to be his, 'The World Traitor', the brand that would be given during the second calamity. What had happened! Why was it different?
Petra's smile flashed past his mind.
He had only seen her once, very briefly in passing.
But, why had this little girl taken it from him?
Why?
How?
He didn't have the strength to answer.
Something small and green lit up in his soul, a single point of light that remained unnoticed. It spread like a virus, growing throughout his body from an unseen place, an unseen world, causing a sudden and inexplicable surge of power to shoot through his ruined body.
Around him, the snowstorm broke!
Hundreds of wild wolves flew towards him, ready to join the banquet.
—!
Hexfill's mind turned.
He was already dead, not here, no, in the real world, he should have been a corpse, or at least, his fate should have reached a dead end.
'Arthur', yes that's right. He was there! Although he wasn't a hero, he was still there! Hexfill remembered, he remembered the small and scrawny brat returning with the Hellion Empire and passing the report notes on the Duskwood Project to Kareth!
He should never have reached the White Wolf Trial!
That alone was a heinous crime against fate…
The world was just… correcting itself.
Then, why accept the correction?
Why bow his head and be put back on the proper path?
No!
He would not allow it!
His mind howled!
He would not accept it!
He would change it!
From this point onwards, he would carve his own path through the snow!
He felt the gears in the unseen world turning clearer than ever. Fate was already moving, but not as intended. It was grinding, resisting, no, it was impeded by something! Hexfill was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of momentum.
The fear he felt at the door had not been the door, it had been the resistance of the gears of fate. Touching that bone gate and walking through it was not allowed, it was absolutely forbidden!
Thus decreed the will of Fate!
But—
So what…?
His eyes snapped open, and he screamed without sound.
—!
He would fight!
The mangled body pressed its claw into the crimson snow.
The old wolf stood!
Boom!
As the decrepit and aged body rose, its obsolete flesh fell away like the shell of a cocoon, until only light remained. It was no longer flesh and blood. What appeared in its place was a wolf-shaped soul, translucent and radiant, flickering with intertwining waves of white light, and roaring with the rage only Hexfill could understand!
Hexfill lunged forward!
Boom!
His spectral fangs sank into the neck of one of the countless wolves rushing towards him in the storm.
When his teeth tore flesh, he felt a surge of power ripple through his soul.
The battle continued.
Each wolf that bit him would rip away a fragment of his 'essence', but in exchange, each wolf he killed expanded his soul. Every death added to him, swelling his size, condensing his light, and tempering his soul to an even higher level.
He had already lost his mind. Instinct was all that remained. Instinct to kill, the Instinct to survive, and the Instinct to rise above his fate.
As his soul grew larger, it also began to refine itself. His eyes, still burning with rage, flickered with a faint light of reason. The wild fury that once ruled his consciousness condensed, sharpening into something clearer, birthing a resolve that would never be possible under normal circumstances.
His form began to shift.
What had been a raging wolf started to bend, the outline slowly reshaping into something more human.
Each kill carved him. Dozens fell, then hundreds, then thousands!
Time was meaningless in the snow.
Every strike, every kill, hammered him and condensed his soul even further, turning the scattered fragments of his soul into something heavier, sharper, stronger, more complete.
At some point, his fangs and claws gave way to fists and fingers.
His body was struck like iron with each kill.
Each movement broke mountains of flesh and ice, his strikes shaking the storm itself.
The wolves grew alongside him, bigger, faster, and stronger with each wave.
Hexfill, still the size of a man, fought beasts a hundred times his height. His blows shattered their bodies, but they never stopped coming. Each one fell, only for two more to rise in its place.
It was endless.
His body broke and reformed. His soul stretched thin, then rewove again and again. Destruction, rebirth, destruction, and rebirth. A cycle without end…
After what could have been days, or centuries, or even millennia, 'something' began to change.
As his spirit condensed to the absolute limit, the world itself seemed to join him as well.
Snow, ice, and stone began to rise from the ground, drawn to him in unseen ways. Each grain fused into his being, refining itself until it became a perfect, pure fragment of the most simplistic material forged by will alone.
Time continued to blur.
Hundreds of years, maybe thousands, passed in an instant. The smallest shards of snow, ice and stone melted into his forming body. Bone returned from stone, muscle reshaped from snow, and skin hardened like tempered steel, formed from the very concept of Ice.
Hexfill's body was reborn. His soul, tempered by uncountable battles, sank into it naturally, perfectly.
When he opened his eyes, his breath came out as a frosty mist, shaking the expanse like a quake.
He could feel both his heart and soul beating as one.
Then, he moved again.
The rampage resumed, only this time it carried the spark of humanity.
He killed until there was nothing left to kill. His strength rose beyond measure, but his mind had changed along with it. His fury was controlled, his greed was restrained, and his impatience was gone.
What remained was something solid.
'Himself'.
That was all it took.
'He' filled the hollow in his heart, in his fate.
When silence finally fell, Hexfill stood alone in the endless white. The storm had quieted, and the snow stretched forever in every direction. The only sound was his breathing and the soft hiss of falling ice melting against his skin.
Yet—
He knew he was not alone…
The instinct he had honed through uncountable lifetimes told him that something was there, something vast. He turned his head towards the horizon.
The titan, the living continent, the White Wolf, was already before him, within breath's reach.
He stared up at the unimaginable creature.
Hexfill's eyes met those of his ancestor.
The world went quiet.
The snow restraint itself, the wind fell silent, and the earth itself seemed to still.
The sound that followed was not a sound at all, no, it was a vibration, the trembling of the soul, the language of the world.
It came from nowhere, yet it came from everything.
"Inconceivable..."
The word echoed through him like an avalanche, low and heavy.
For a brief moment, he felt as if he were the one holding the mountain.
He remembered it. The first word he had heard when the trial began. Back then, he hadn't understood. But now, he did. For him to come here, to defy fate, to reach this depth, to survive, such a thing… was inconceivable.
Yes, he agreed…
For this creature, this being that had lived since the Age of Chaos, it must have been obvious.
It stared at him for a long time before speaking again. Its voice rumbled through the snow and the sky alike, every word heavy enough to fell mountains and evaporate seas.
"There are only two natural races in this world. The Original Sea Clan… and the Beast Kings, and our descendants. You know, as I do, that you should have never arrived here. I have long accepted being forgotten. This is fate, my fate. This is my end, as it is our end. Yet, you are here, and I am not forgotten. You have been touched by 'that one'. Never forget, and never anger 'her'. You will be the final 'White Wolf'. Through you, I will not fade."
When the last word left the titan's mouth, the world erupted.
The horizon broke.
And—
Hexfill vanished into its brilliance.