I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities-Chapter 11: Ch 10. Slaughter

Stepping into the cavernous den, the first thing Ethan noticed was the stench—a mixture of blood, damp fur, and raw meat.

The walls were lined with deep claw marks, and bones—some animal, some human(his bodies)—were scattered across the uneven floor.

Further in, Ethan spotted a large pit, dug into the ground and lined with soft animal pelts.

This was the nesting area, where the Lupir cubs were kept safe while the adults hunted.

But what caught Ethan's attention was what was happening inside the nest.

A group of five Duskfang Lupir cubs huddled together, tearing into a bloody carcass—the leftovers from the adults' hunt.

The cubs were smaller versions of the adults, their fur still soft but already dark gray.

Their fangs were just beginning to grow in, and their claws, though shorter, were still deadly.

Their eyes weren't fully red yet but tinged with a deep, sinister crimson glow.

But one cub was different.

Ethan's gaze locked onto a frail, weak-looking Lupir cub—much smaller than the others. Its fur was patchy, its frame thin and malnourished.

Unlike the rest, its eyes weren't red but a dull amber, lacking the predatory fire of its siblings.

The stronger cubs bullied it mercilessly.

Whenever the frail cub tried to approach the carcass, one of the larger cubs shoved it back with a vicious snarl.

The cub whined, ears flattening, but tried again—

Only for another cub to bite down on its paw, sharp little fangs piercing flesh.

The frail cub yelped in pain, but before it could react, a third cub slammed into it from the side, sending it sprawling across the nest.

It landed with a thud, its thin body trembling as bruises formed along its ribs.

The pack continued feasting, ignoring the whimpers of their weaker sibling.

Ethan clenched his fists.

He wasn't one for sympathy—he had long since abandoned such things in this merciless world.

But something about the cub's desperate struggle struck a chord within him.

It reminded him of himself.

Weak. Helpless. Abandoned.

And he knew one thing—

The weak didn't survive unless they fought back.

Ethan steadied his mind, pushing aside any unnecessary thoughts.

The Ruinborn Expanse was a place where compassion got you killed.

In the past month, he had died more times than he could count, and each death had drilled one lesson into him—

The weak are nothing but prey.

And the moment he saw the cubs, an idea solidified in his mind.

He would use this opportunity.

Ethan exhaled, gripping his dagger as he strode forward.

Immediately, the five cubs' noses twitched, sensing him despite his silent approach. The scent-erasing potion had worn off, but Ethan didn't care.

They were no threat to him.

Their crimson-tinged eyes snapped toward him. Fur bristling, they let out low, guttural growls, their tiny fangs bared.

Claws scraped against the stone floor, their predatory instincts kicking in.

The weak cub, still curled up on the ground, used what little strength it had to lift its head.

Its dull amber eyes flickered with confusion and fear as it gazed at the approaching stranger.

Ethan didn't hesitate.

The moment the five cubs lunged at him, he moved.

Slaughter.

As the first cub leaped for his throat—Ethan sidestepped and drove his dagger straight through its skull, killing it instantly.

The second tried to clamp onto his leg, but before its teeth could sink in, Ethan whipped his blade around, severing its spine.

The third and fourth cubs attempted to flank him from both sides, but he ducked low, his cloak billowing as his dagger flashed in the dim light—one clean slash ended them both.

The final cub hesitated for a fraction of a second—just enough time for Ethan to pierce its heart.

Silence fell over the den.

Ethan exhaled, flicking the black blood off his blade.

No ability fragment or point was gained, which was to be expected. They were too weak to provide any.

His eyes then shifted back to the last remaining cub.

The frail cub trembled, its bruised body instinctively shrinking away as Ethan approached.

Its thin frame shuddered, eyes wide with pure terror.

Then, as Ethan's dagger glinted in the low light, the cub shut its eyes tightly, its tiny body stiffening.

It had resigned itself to death.

But it never came. Instead—

Something warm slid into its mouth.

The cub's eyes snapped open as a strange liquid rushed down its throat. A cool sensation spread through its body, and suddenly, the pain and exhaustion—

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All of it vanished.

The cub looked up, confused, only to see Ethan pulling an empty vial from its mouth.

The bitter taste of healing potion still lingered on its tongue, but more than that—

It felt alive.

For the first time, it's body didn't ache.

Ethan watched as the cub processed what had just happened.

Then, he reached into his storage ring and pulled out a chunk of leftover steak—still fresh, wrapped in thin parchment.

The cub's nose perked up, but instead of immediately lunging for the food, it hesitated, glancing between the meat and Ethan.

Its expression—if it could be called that—was one of doubt.

It didn't trust him.

As if expecting the food to be a trap.

Ethan sighed. "If I were you, I'd eat," he said flatly. "No need to worry about poison."

Then, he gestured toward the slain cubs, their lifeless bodies strewn across the den.

"I don't need poison to handle a little cub."

For a moment, the cub stared at him.

Ethan didn't know why he was explaining himself to an animal—one that likely didn't understand a word he was saying.

Maybe spending an entire month alone had messed with his head more than he realized.

But then—

The cub moved.

It cautiously sniffed the steak, taking a tentative nibble.

Then, as soon as the flavor exploded in its mouth—

It devoured the meat in seconds, tearing into it as if Ethan would snatch it away at any moment.

Ethan watched, mildly amused, as the cub ravenously ate.

And when it was finally done—

It hiccuped.

The sudden noise startled the cub, making it jump slightly.

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled out a small metal canister from his storage ring and handed it over.

"Here. Drink."

The cub tilted its head but took a few cautious sips—enough for the hiccups to stop.

Then, after a moment, the cub looked up at Ethan.

And before he could react—

It rubbed its head against his leg.

A simple, gentle gesture of gratitude.

Ethan froze.

For the first time in a long while, something unexpected stirred in his chest.

But his thoughts were soon interrupted.

A new notification appeared before his eyes—

[System Notification]

[Pet Found!]

A true hunter does not rely solely on skill and weaponry. The wild is a battlefield where survival is dictated by more than just strength—a hunter must possess instinct, patience, and above all... a loyal companion.

[New Companion Detected: Duskfang Lupir Cub]