Ryder wrenched the wheel, aiming Betsy's powerful beam toward the sound. The truck lurched off the dirt track. The headlights sliced through the trees, illuminating the source.
Illuminated in the stark white light, a young woman appeared, stumbling and desperate. Her attire, a once-bright red overall, was now stained with grease and rent in several places. Upon her forehead, a pair of engineer's goggles sat askew.
Her clothes were further soiled with dirt, and she clutched a peculiar, almost futuristic-looking handgun, striking it repeatedly with a frantic hand as sparks showered from the malfunctioning device.
Close behind her, a pack of feral wolves emerged from the shadows, their forms corrupted and unnatural. A sinister red light emanated from their eyes, and even in the harsh glare of the headlamps, Ryder could discern their matted fur and patches of exposed, glistening muscle.
Ryder brought Betsy to a jarring halt, the heavy vehicle groaning in protest as its tires skidded on the loose earth. The sudden cessation of movement and the unwavering beams of the headlamps seemed to momentarily stun the attacking wolves.
The night air, previously disturbed only by the forest sounds, now filled with a cacophony of guttural snarls from the beasts and the woman's terrified cries, all underscored by the abrupt silence as Betsy's powerful engine cut off.
He quickly pushed open the driver's side door. And as his boots made contact with the uneven ground, a clear, urgent thought formed in his mind: "System, buy Headlight Torch! Betsy, demanifest!"
[ARMORY PURCHASE: "TRAILBLAZER" HEADLIGHT TORCH - 1000 POINTS DEDUCTED]
In the next instant, the sturdy, powerfully built torch materialized in his grip, just as he stepped clear of the cab.
The moment Ryder was free, the enormous red-and-chrome form of Betsy shimmered, the massive truck dissolving into the night air as if it were a mirage, its piercing headlights winking out along with it.
Ryder landed with a controlled grunt, immediately activating the flashlight in his hand. An intense, focused beam of white light stabbed through the gloom, a more concentrated illumination than the truck's broader glow.
He deftly clipped the powerful flashlight to his belt, angling its beam forward to light his path and free his hands, before moving swiftly towards the sounds of the ongoing struggle.
The small clearing was now starkly lit by the unwavering beam of Ryder's belt-mounted torch. The woman was on the ground, attempting to scramble backward, her wide eyes fixed on the pack of corrupted wolves.
They had turned their attention from her to the sudden, bright light of Ryder's torch, their snarls deep and resonant with promised violence.
As Ryder closed the distance, the woman, with a desperate cry, hurled a small, metallic cylinder towards the nearest of the creatures. The device detonated with a sharp crack and a blinding flash of blue-white light.
Two of the wolves were thrown back by the force of the explosion, yelping in surprise and pain, their forms momentarily obscured by a plume of acrid smoke.
Ryder reached her side just as the remaining wolves refocused their predatory gaze. With a thought, his sword and shield took form in his hands, the polished steel of the blade and the sturdy surface of the shield gleaming dully in the torchlight.
He quickly assessed the situation. There were more of these creatures than he had faced in the tunnel near Crowpoint, but their corruption felt… less potent, their forms less substantial.
Nevertheless, they moved with the coordinated menace of a practiced pack.
"Stay behind me," Ryder's voice was firm, cutting through the snarling of the wolves.
He wasted no time. His first movement was a shield-bash, delivered with swift precision to the nearest wolf, sending it tumbling away from the woman with a surprised yelp. His sword followed, a purposeful arc aimed at what he judged to be a vulnerable point.
The woman, propped on an elbow, watched, her breathing shallow and rapid.
The engagement became a series of calculated movements. Ryder met each attack with a measured defense, his focus entirely on the creatures before him.
A wolf lunged from his right, its jaws snapping, but Ryder met its charge with a swift deflection of his shield to the side of its skull. The impact resounded with a dull thud, and the creature was sent sprawling with a pained cry.
Another, bolder than the first, attempted to circle to his exposed left flank. Ryder pivoted on his heel, his blade describing a silvered arc that bit deeply into the wolf's shoulder, drawing a howl of agony.
He moved methodically, maintaining a strong defensive posture between the woman and the snapping teeth of the pack.
One wolf charged directly at him, a clear attempt to draw his attention, while another darted low from Ryder's left, its teeth bared as it aimed for his legs.
Ryder reacted with immediate precision, stamping down hard on the low attacker's snout with his reinforced boot, the sound of a sharp crack barely audible above the din.
Simultaneously, he parried the frontal assault with his shield. He gave the stunned creature no opportunity to recover, following through with a quick, efficient sword thrust that pierced its chest.
The woman, her heart still pounding, managed to scramble to her feet. Her fingers fumbled with the strange handgun. "Work, damn it…" she muttered, striking the weapon again.
A spark, then a faint hum, emanated from it.
She took aim, her hand surprisingly steady despite her evident terror, at a wolf that had managed to slip partially past Ryder's flank, its red eyes fixed on him.
The handgun discharged with a sharp, crackling sound, unleashing a bolt of vibrant blue energy. The creature let out a gurgling howl as its body was violently hurled sideways, striking a thick tree trunk with a sickening impact before slumping to the forest floor.
"At last!" the girl exclaimed, a note of triumph mingling with her frustration. "Take that, you foul beast!"
With the pack thinned by the woman's timely intervention, Ryder dispatched the remaining few wolves with focused efficiency. He sidestepped a clumsy, snapping bite from one, his sword flashing out in a precise arc that opened its throat.
Another lunged in a final, desperate attempt. Ryder met its charge squarely with his shield, the heavy metal stopping it dead with a bone-jarring thud. Before the creature could recover from the shock, his sword found its heart with a swift, sure thrust.
Silence descended upon the small clearing, broken only by their ragged breathing and the faint, lingering crackle from the wolf the woman had shot.
Ryder kept his sword and shield manifested, his head slowly turning as he scanned the dark tree line for any sign of further threats. The woods, however, remained dark and silent.
Satisfied for the moment that the immediate danger had passed, his weapons demanifested with a soft shimmer of light. The Trailblazer on his belt, however, remained active, its beam a reassuring presence in the oppressive darkness.
He turned to the woman. She was leaning against a tree, her unusual handgun still clutched tightly. Her chest heaved with exertion, and her face was pale beneath the grime, but she was upright.
"Are you hurt?" Ryder asked, his voice a little rough from the encounter.
She shook her head, her eyes wide and still reflecting a measure of the terror she had endured. Her gaze met Ryder's briefly before flitting away, a faint flush rising beneath the dirt on her cheeks.
"No… I believe not. Only scrapes and bruises, I think." She took a shaky breath. "Thank you. You… you were remarkable. So strong, and so quick."
The woman pushed herself straighter, a flicker of resolve returning to her eyes despite the lingering pinkness in her cheeks. She extended a hand, which trembled slightly and was smudged with grease.
"I am deeply indebted to you," she said, managing a small, tired smile that didn't quite dispel the weariness in her eyes. "My name is Kaela Rustspark. I am a… a smith of sorts, working with what some call magi-tech. I also tinker with Anchors, at times. Thank you again, for saving my life. Truly. Your skill was… impressive."
Ryder took her offered hand. Her grip was surprisingly firm despite the tremor. "Ryder Vance."
As their hands clasped, a familiar warmth bloomed in his perception, an internal understanding. A series of confirmations registered within him:
[TITLE EARNED: ROADSIDE RESCUER]
[You have unlocked 4 Titles. Your presence in this world grows stronger.]
[Base Strength Enhanced.]
A jolt of pure energy flowed through Ryder. His muscles felt more potent, the lingering fatigue from the day's travel and the brief, intense fight receding as if washed away by a cool tide.
They stood in the small, torch-lit clearing, surrounded by the silent forms of the dispatched wolves, the vast, dark wilderness pressing in around them from all sides.