Chapter 12: CH13: Killing Wolves

A bitter wind, cold and vicious, stole its way into the cabin through broken windows and swept through his clothes. Ice sickles hanging down the windows like the teeth of some eldritch sea horror melted, slowly dripping down on the water-swollen wood window sill. Creaks and groans echoed through the abandoned cabin as Dotty tried to get comfortable, only to get up to look towards the stables where he had left the gelding. The howls grew closer as the nightly hours dragged on and Silas worked.

 

He carved an old limb that had half-grown into the building through a window on the upper floor. Working with his hands calmed his racing heart and helped him keep his mind focused. Silas had already written and planned out the formations needed to enchant the limb from a piece of wood into a deadly weapon.

 

After each completed carving, he blew a little on his glyphs before taking out a vial of hog blood and filling in the seal. Revealing his craft to a nearby Shinigami wasn’t an issue. However, once Soifon got close to the fire, she fell asleep. Either she trusted him, or the Shinigami was that exhausted.

 

It didn’t change much other than giving him peace of mind while he worked to make a reliable weapon. Sometimes the best tool for the job was a big stick. While that was often metaphorical, he would make it literal. There were formations to disguise formations, something he had been working on for a while but couldn’t get right on a large scale.

 

Once he finished those carvings, something easier thanks to his current 90% vein cultivation, he worked on some deadly additions. An impact formation at the head and butt of the staff would help him keep his distance while the anti-evil spirit seals added flavor. Growing stronger in cultivation increased what his formations could do and how potent they could be. At 80%, an impact formation could turn a man’s skull to mush, and at 90%, it could do the same with a moose’s skull or close enough.

 

The formation slowly drank his spiritual energy. At the same time, he worked on other additions to improve his staff. For example, he worked on anti-sweat formations to keep the staff from slipping in his grip and an aura identifier. The last thing Silas wanted was someone taking his staff and shattering his skull with it.

 

By the time he ran out of hog blood, he had added some weatherizing formations to keep the elements from rotting it, a light, and a choke for the impact formations. That allowed him to spread impacts out wide or condense them for more lethal attacks.

 

Silas fed some power to his staff and watched the formations covering it heal until the staff appeared to be another hunk of wood. The formations were still there but healed over like shrapnel left in wounds or a pacemaker attached to someone’s heart. He hefted the weapon and admired it for its innocuous appearance. There was a curve to the staff that was almost lude and a formation of knots on its head. Silas planned to carve into the appearance of a lady. Maybe he could tell the people of Low Delaware Town it was the virgin Mary. Since they believed dreams could be used as evidence in a trial, they may be gullible enough to believe it.

 

The wolf howls were getting uncomfortably close, and Soifon stirred awake. He looked up to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring through the window.

 

In a show of boldness he hadn’t expected from mere wolves, it placed its paws on the window sill and shot forward in a black blur. He reacted and brought the head of his staff down on the wolf’s head.

 

What might have been a mere glancing blow threw the wolf off its feet as its back legs kicked in the air. Thick black fur shined with fallen snow from the orange firelight while the beast hit the cabin floor and tumbled to the nearby wall.

 

Wolf meat was highly prized, especially during a famine, and the pelts could be treated for a new cloak. He did like the black fur, even if malevolent spirit energy radiated from the animal, even if the monster’s brain was jelly.

 

Soifon shot up in a fighting stance while the other wolves shattered the ice sickles hanging from the windowsills in their bid to get inside. Black winter coats covered the wolves, giving them the look of specters with shining yellow eyes. Dotty kicked one with metal shod hooves and snapped its back instantly. The equine turned on the canines with more the ire of a donkey than a nag.

 

Sure the wolves were possessed by malevolent hollow energy, but Dotty was a burgeoning spirit beast in her own right. On average, spirit beasts were stronger physically than human cultivators if no body cultivation techniques were available. Silas’s cultivation technique was considered spiritual despite its interactions with the human body. In a battle of pure physical strength with equal spiritual energy, Dotty would be physically stronger than him.

 

Soifon moved and drew her zanpakuto. In a flash, it was over, and blood spilled on the cabin floor. The Shinigami had moved faster than he could perceive and killed all the wolves. She wasn’t even close to full strength, and she slew 6 possessed wolves instantly.

 

“Methinks, I have slept enough. Thou art bold to stand at my defense, spiritually aware or not. If thou were a Shinigami, I would write thee a letter recommending promotion and ask my mistress for her support. What could I offer a human?” Soifon asked.

 

“The hollow’s head on a pike is all I would like. But, alas, the beast tis too cowardly to show itself. So I shall have to sell the meat of its minions and make a coat of their pelts as compensation. Methinks thou would look lovely in a cloak of black fur. Mayhap thy mistress would appreciate a cloak; they art quite spiritually powerful.” Silas said.

 

Soifon blushed as she clearly envisioned Yoruichi Shihoin wearing a dashing cloak of black wolf fur. Honestly, the woman would look great in it, but maybe there was one more fitting. Silas walked out into the darkness and raised his staff. A small blue glow lit the area revealing that the wolves hadn’t targeted the stables. Unfortunately, Silas and the soul reaper were such juicy targets that even the hollow’s possessed minions couldn’t pass him up.

 

“Methinks if we play our cards right, we may find a possessed wolf with red fur. After our trip to town, let us purchase some traps for those poor possessed animals so we may put them out of their misery. Who knows what we may find?” Silas said.

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“Do thou believe a red-furred wolf prowls these lands? Mayhaps a prize would earn the favor of my mistress. Thou have not broken any laws of soul society and only practice a way to defend thyself from hollows. From my observations as a stealth force member, I conclude that thou art not a danger to the balance.” Soifon said.

 

“Methinks the balance is something I don’t need to know about. Now we have wolves to dress before we leave for town. I hope thou had enough rest.” Silas said and yawned.

 

Cultivation could replace sleep in later stages, but he wasn’t even in the first stage. Instead, he stayed up until the wolves attacked before dawn, and his body felt stiff from carving all night.

 

“I know my way around a carcass. Get some shut-eye. I can’t drive the wagon.” Soifon said.

 

He didn’t want to leave her to do all the work, but she seemed confident when she took the knife out of his hand. Silas wasn’t sure if sleeping around an assassin was a good idea, but he couldn’t stay awake much longer. Silas found himself walking back into the cabin and stoking the flames with a new log before falling asleep.

 

…

 

Silas had slept until noon and rushed to get ready to leave. Soifon’s skinning job wasn’t terrible, but it was a little sloppy. Some of the cuts were hesitant and lacked the steadiness of someone who hunted often. But, for the most part, the skins could still be used, and the meat was most likely fine. Of course, selling it to the town could be dangerous with the taint within it, but surely God would protect the puritans.

 

It would be easier if that were true, and he could wait for angels to take care of the hollow problem. Unfortunately, Silas couldn’t toss the bloody corpses on his harvest, so he stacked them on top of the gelding and detached the poor thing from the cart. He tied it behind them, which put the greatest strain on Dotty. Still, she could handle it.

 

They started forward at a steady pace, with the noonday sun high, giving them plenty of light. Soifon sat beside him, much more energetic than he felt.

 

Silas slowed down his cart when they approached the town’s gate, and a familiar guard trotted over to greet him. “God bless thou and thy harvest, but how did it escape the scorch of passenger pigeons.” The guard asked.

 

“Tis all harvested and locked safely in a barn far from the greedy beaks of those rats with wings. I am surprised thee hadn’t killed the pests in earnest and feasted. If my memory hasn’t failed me, they taste heavenly boiled in lard.” Silas said.

 

“Something has spoiled their meat, and methinks tis the beast. It plunders farms and steals young mistresses in the night. Tis a demon.” The guard said.

 

Silas shook his head at the guard’s words. It directed passenger pigeons to devour entire harvests and somehow fouled their meat. A staving town would eat nearly anything, so the meat must have been wretched. As for the wolf meat, it was, for the most part, free of the malevolence after trotting through the chill. Most of the malevolence had merged with the hide instead of the meat underneath.

 

“Methinks eight wolves, each well over a hundred pounds will help a little to ease everyone’s hunger, and my harvest, while not cheap, will be sold presently. But, there is more, and if thou needs it, the gelding can be butchered for the people's good. My nag is not on the menu; let that be known.” Silas said.

 

“Peace cousin, none are so desperate to steal the noble steed of our savior. I’ll see that she is fed and rested and if thou art serious, the gelding can be taken to the butcher swiftly. So many have sought our walls for their safety. Thou will know the situation inside.” The guard said.

 

Silas glanced over at Soifon as guards pulled the gelding free. “Oh, and while the meat is for the town, the pelts belong to me,” Silas said.

 

One of the guards agreed by quickly taking the gelding off to see the butcher. Dotty gave him a look that he understood. Silas would keep watching her back, and she would do the same.

 

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