NOVEL NEXT Chapter 65: Left Out
Grunts and growls filled the area, the kind of guttural noise that promised this was going to get messy real f*cking fast.
Lanz, of course, stood a meter away from the center, looking like the one idiot who thought standing between two mobs of oversized, teeth-baring animals was a reasonable life decision.
On his left were the boars, every single one of them snorting and stomping their hooves, confirming they had something to prove.
The boss of the pack stood out instantly, a massive slab of muscle and tusks stretching up to two-point-four meters.
Its tiny eyes were locked straight on the alpha wolf, and there was no mistaking the intent there — this wasn't a staring contest, this was the prelude to carnage.
Behind the boss, thirteen male boars shifted restlessly, tusks gleaming, muscles twitching.
Seven females held position with the same restless energy, and in between them, three smaller boarlets squealed, clearly too inexperienced to realize they were about to be part of a battlefield rather than some cute family outing.
On his right were the wolves, and they weren't exactly a peaceful sight either.
Twenty-two regular gray wolves crouched low, tails swishing in anticipation, their growls blending into one long, unsettling rumble.
Among them stood three white wolves that were slightly larger, towering at two meters each.
They carried themselves differently, more controlled, more deliberate, and they kept a subtle distance from the rest of the pack.
But none of them came close to the presence of the alpha.
An enormous black wolf, pushing two-point-five meters tall, eyes sharp, scarred body coiled with tension, practically radiating the kind of energy that screamed it would rip apart anything that moved wrong in its field of vision.
And Lanz?
Yeah, he just happened to be the idiot in the middle...
Anyways, the three forces remained locked in a ridiculous stalemate that dragged on just long enough to make Lanz question his own choices.
It was a three-way Mexican standoff, only with tusks, claws, and an idiot teenager caught in the middle pretending this was still salvageable.
Every second stretched out, heavy and tense, each side daring the other to make the first move.
The alpha wolf, who had been standing still earlier with a patience that almost felt unnatural, suddenly snapped the silence with a bark that was loud and commanding.
It wasn't just noise, it was an order.
Every wolf in the pack instantly dropped into position, their bodies lowering to the ground in unison, muscles straining, claws digging into the dirt.
The sound of it was enough to prickle at Lanz's skin — one moment, they had been restless, the next they were locked and loaded, ready to pounce on whatever unlucky target their leader chose.
A second passed. Then another.
Suddenly, the alpha wolf let out a deep, commanding howl that shook the air, and that was all it took for the pack to erupt into motion.
Dozens of bodies launched forward, claws tearing into the ground, jaws snapping with the kind of precision that came from pure instinct.
It wasn't some graceful display, what it was, was as an all-out rush, and once they moved, it was clear that nothing was holding them back.
The boars, however, weren't about to roll over and hand the wolves an easy win.
Their answer came in the form of an earth-shaking charge, tusks swinging, hooves smashing against the dirt.
The sheer force of it was insane. If you blinked, you might get f*cking isekai'd by these b*tches.
It wasn't pretty or elegant, but it got the job done, and the first wave of wolves met the stampede head-on.
Bodies slammed into each other with sickening force, and in an instant, the clearing devolved into chaos.
One gray wolf had the bad fortune of leaping into the path of a charging boar, and the result was brutal.
The wolf was caught mid-air, struck hard enough to send it flying backward, tumbling helplessly until it hit the ground with a sound that promised it wasn't getting back up.
The boars, clearly unbothered by the casualty count of the enemy, pushed forward relentlessly, driving their momentum into the heart of the fight.
Of course, not all of them managed that flawlessly.
One overeager male boar barreled too far ahead of the herd and found himself surrounded, stuck right in the middle of the wolves' formation.
That mistake cost him instantly.
Two of the larger white wolves pounced with merciless precision, one latching onto his neck, the other sinking its teeth into his hindquarters.
The boar let out a piercing shriek, thrashing violently, but the wolves didn't relent.
Their jaws clamped tighter, muscles straining, and in seconds, blood sprayed across the dirt.
The thrashing stopped abruptly when one of the wolves went for the final blow, sinking its teeth into the boar's skull and tearing it away with raw force.
The head was ripped clean from the body, and without any hesitation, the wolf flung it aside.
And where did it land?
Of course it landed right in front of Lanz.
The severed head thudded onto the dirt at his feet, tongue lolling out, eyes turned pale and lifeless.
It stared up at him in the most pathetic, pointless way imaginable, and for a second — more like a couple — Lanz just stood there, head tilted down, eyes fixed on the decapitated head that had landed so conveniently in front of him.
The tongue still hung out, limp and useless, the eyes clouded over with that washed-out white that screamed nothing was going on behind them anymore.
He stared at it for a moment longer than necessary, then finally lifted his gaze toward the battlefield in front of him.
The chaos had only grown more brutal since that little gift landed at his feet.
Wolves were getting tossed around or trampled, their bodies colliding with the ground in ugly heaps.
Boars were being dragged down and shredded, their squeals cutting through the noise before being drowned out by the wet tearing of teeth through flesh.
The scene was a constant, never-ending mess of fur, blood, and broken bodies, with no side willing to let up even for a breath.
And then, of course, there were the stars of the show.
The boss boar and the alpha wolf.
Both of them stood still, radiating menace, refusing to move a single muscle while their underlings threw themselves into the grinder.
Fang for tusk. Fur for fur. Aura for aura. Band for band. Neither of them blinked, neither of them twitched, and honestly, they were clipfarming at that point.
The battle raged on around them, and they just stood there farming intimidation highlights for whatever imaginary audience cared to watch.
(Or read ✋🗿🤚)
Meanwhile, Lanz… well, Lanz wasn't part of any of that.
He wasn't charging.
He wasn't tearing out throats.
He wasn't stomping hooves or swinging tusks.
He wasn't doing anything worth remembering.
He was just standing there, arms limp at his sides, watching the battle unfold without so much as a single invitation to join.
It wasn't that he was hesitating, it wasn't that he was calculating, it wasn't even that he was scared, as if.
The brutal truth was simply that he had been left out.
And really, we couldn't even blame them.
Why would a wolf or a boar waste time on the guy standing motionless when there were plenty of actual threats tearing into their flanks?
He wasn't worth the effort. Not to them, anyway. Which was insulting, sure, but also kinda depressing.
He shifted his weight, tilted his head, and let out a tired sigh.
"Man, f*ck this sh*t," Lanz hissed, his voice muffled under the visor of his helmet, though his frustration was clear enough that it practically bled through it.
His eyes narrowed, irritation blazing just behind the darkened glass.
He shifted his gaze to the nearest cluster of wolves, three of them circling with that annoying coordination they seemed to think made them clever.
They were drifting to the back of the boars, with the intent on swinging around for a surprise attack.
But unfortunately for them, today wasn't going to be their day.
Lanz's body tensed, his hand flexed slightly, and he willed the skill to life.
[Phantom Stride — Activated.]
His body vanished in a blur, the world stretching unnaturally for the briefest instant before snapping back into place.
For anyone watching, only faint traces of his form remained visible in the air, a flicker of movement that was already gone before their eyes could process it.
In the blink of an eye, Lanz had repositioned himself, and by the time the wolves registered that something was wrong, he was already above them.
Steel flashed. His arm swung with a single clean motion, and the strike was merciless.
Three heads separated from their bodies in perfect sequence, spraying arcs of blood into the air before they hit the ground.
Their bodies collapsed almost simultaneously, thudding into the dirt, twitching uselessly before going still.
The system answered immediately.
[EXP +7]
[EXP +7]
[EXP +7]
The familiar chime rang sweetly in his ears, and Lanz let out a sharp exhale, almost amused at how clean it had been.
He landed smoothly, both feet hitting the ground with ease, and straightened without even sparing a glance at the corpses behind him.
For a brief moment, the ongoing chaos of the boars and wolves faded from his attention.
It wasn't about them anymore, it was about him finally deciding to stop being treated like a background prop in his own goddamn series.
"Fine," he muttered, voice carrying the venom of someone who had been ignored long enough to snap.
"If you're not gonna let me join…" He let his blade rest against his shoulder, the weight comfortable in his hand. His tone sharpened into a promise as he tilted his helmet slightly, glaring toward the battlefield. "I'll just kill all of you myself."
End of Chapter 65.
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ALT SYSTEM — USER PROFILE: ZERO
Level: 15
EXP: 60 / 150
Next Reward: Quick Sever
Global System Tracking: DISABLED
World Rank Association: UNLINKED
Stats:
STR: 20 | AGI: 10 (Affinity) | VIT: 5 | DEX: 5 | INT: 17 | WIS: 5
[Available Stat Points: 0]
[Derived Stat — MANA: 90 / 90]
Skills:
[Crimson Slash Lv. 1]
[Phantom Stride Lv. 2]
[Instinctive Blade Lv.1]
[Predictive Guard Lv.1]
[Skill Fusion Menu: Active]
[Dev Tree: Tier 0 Access Granted]
[Developer Node – Fusion Core Anchor: Active]
[Skill Slot Available — Unassigned]
Equipment:
Aged Blade Fragment (??? Rarity) (Bound)
Training Ring (+1 VIT)
Bag :)
Ring of Genorya - ???