Time was running out, Alwyn had to act quickly.
The wolf would soon rise from the dead, becoming a Revenant.
No matter how badly their bodies were injured, they would still be able to move thanks to some kind of supernatural abilities. That meant he could not just sever its legs or chop the body into tiny pieces.
'Fuck!'
His heartbeat rapidly accelerated.
It was not a normal occurrence for the coldblooded Alwyn.
'What's happening to me lately?!'
Just then, a simple idea took root into his brain.
He untied the rope of cloth from the wooden planks, used three meters of it to bind the dead beast's legs, taking away its mobility, and tightly coiled the remaining two around his neck, so as to not worsen its already sorry conditions and lose too much blood.
His mangled hand needed some treatment as well, but that would have to wait until he reached the forest, and the same went for the ankles.
That day he had crawled on the ground for almost six hours, ran on his stumps for a quarter of an hour, and even fought a fierce battle at the end.
His body was worn out, and he still had to crawl for three more hours. Furthermore, considering that the sun had just started to set, he would arrive in the first hours of the night, which was not optimal at all.
His other option was going by foot, but now that the adrenaline levels had significantly lowered, he was starting to feel the tremendous pain in his lacerated ankles.
So he picked up the lizard feed with one hand and the shovel with the other one, and he started walking at a fast pace towards the forest.
Every step he made felt atrocious, like a stab wound.
But he endured.
***
Almost fifteen minutes had passed, and Alwyn turned around to see with his very eyes the birth of the Revenant.
However, he secretly hoped that the body would remain still. Maybe with his death he had acquired a golden finger, just like webnovel protagonists do. Golden fingers were enormous boons given to transmigrators when they arrive in the new world.
"Pfft, as if."
There was already a kilometer between him and the dead beast, so he felt relatively safe. However the wolf could obviously catch up to him in no time if it managed to rip the bandages around its legs.
Those creatures usually lived in forests and had evolved to hunt agile prey, so he had no chance of winning in short distances.
He had to make it a contest of endurance, putting as much distance as he could between them.
Now that he thought about it, why was that forest wolf there, in the middle of an open plain? And how did it survive until now? With the plague of the Revenants, carnivores had almost gone extinct, as they could not eat their prey.
Only the smartest species remained, and they had adapted to new lifestyles. Forest wolves were one of them, but their numbers dwindled as they lived in a dangerous habitat. Had the animal smelled the fresh corpses and got closer to inspect them?
'That's highly possib-'
Alwyn's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a subtle movement.
The beast's corpse had just stirred.
After confirming that it had really come back to life, Alwyn stood up, turned his back to it, and started running as fast as he could.
Now only an hour separated him from the forest. He had to get there as soon as possible and seek shelter for the night in its periphery.
Trees were a bad idea, as that species of wolves could easily climb them with their sharp talons. He instead had to find shelter in an enclosed space.
Only luck could aid him in his search.
So he ran with all his strength, suppressing the terrible pain coming from his lacerated ankles and hoping they would continue their regeneration once he got a moment of rest.
He closed his eyes, and every worry eventually disappeared. Sometimes he heard the harrowing howls of the dead wolf, but he ignored them and kept going with a steady pace.
He tried to replicate the sensation he felt when digging the ditch, or during the fight against the wolf. The state between human and machine that only someone who lived a thousand lives could achieve.
Forgetting everything around him, he ran with methodical movements, concentrating only on stabilizing the uneven breathing.
He didn't care about the wolf, about the night, or even other Revenants. All his fears had magically vanished in the emptiness of his mind. He just put a foot after the other, and repeated that simple action tens, hundreds, thousands of times.
At some point he stepped on a single patch of tough grass with his bloodied stumps, and that was when he finally knew that the finish line was close by.
So he opened his eyes, and found himself at the entrance of the Whispering Woods, ten meters away from the first lonely tree.
It was high, straight, its bark completely black and the long leaves of a similar shade tending to green.
He tried to gaze what was inside the woods, but couldn't see a thing. Darkness reigned in that eerie environment.
And darkness was also devouring the plain, so he made himself courage and entered the forest.
He kept going at a moderate speed, searching for a cave or some big roots that could shield him from wild beasts. Meanwhile, he maintained a high vigilance and looked out for eventual movements inside the thick grey patches of grass, and behind the tree trunks as well, which had one side completely covered in moss.
But after not too long, battling against the dense vegetation, he caught a glimpse of a distant artificial structure immersed in the darkness. It was small and made of wood, half hidden by a large black bush full of bright green berries.
So he slowly headed in that direction with extreme caution, keeping himself low to avoid being spotted by eventual enemies, and firmly gripping the crudely assembled shovel in his hand in case he came face to face with one.
He didn't have many chances of winning in a direct confrontation, as his weapon's durability had lowered significantly during his recent battle, and he was in no condition to fight.
But he still needed to check the structure out, as it could turn out to be of great help for surviving the night. He could even use its planks to build a better shelter.
'N-No way…'
To his surprise, when he got close enough, he immediately recognized that wooden rectangular shape.
Four wheels, front seats, a cabin.
It was the carriage of the Reapers.
Rustle.
An almost inaudible noise came from a bush behind him, and before he could even turn, a swift blade fell upon him.
Slash.