Two weeks passed in the bitterly frozen outskirts.
Bailey's life had narrowed into a brutally repetitive cycle: physical training, meditation to expand his magical awareness, and honing the five steps for operating the Spatial element. The dilapidated wooden cabin had gradually become a discreet fortress in disguise, where he learned to listen to every breath of nature and grow accustomed to the darkness of the Far North.
Midnight.
When the snowy winds outside temporarily died down, a chaotic chain of sounds from deep within the ancient-growth Snow Forest struck Bailey's eardrums.
It was the shrill howling of a pack of magical beasts, interspersed with deep, furious growls that were gradually weakening. The sharp crack of breaking branches and the rancid scent of fresh blood rode the icy wind through the shattered window frame.
Bailey's eyes flew open. His deep-red eyes flashed in the darkness.
He tightened his leather gloves, fastened the dagger at his waist, and darted out of the cabin.
Hiding beneath the shadows of ancient cedars, Bailey moved without making a sound. He approached a clearing blanketed in white snow, then quietly climbed onto a branch about five meters high to survey the entire scene.
Below him, a brutal siege was unfolding.
Six **Snow Apes**—low-grade Ice magical beasts notorious for their ferocity, with thick white fur like iron armor and razor-sharp claws—had formed a pincer formation around a lone figure at the center.
It was a **White Wolf**.
Its fur was immaculate white, without a single blemish, but it was now splattered with dark-red blood. What made Bailey's pupils contract slightly were **the wolf's eyes**.
They were deep red like magical crystal—silent, cold, and proud to the extreme, exactly like the eyes reflecting back at him from the darkness.
The wolf had suffered several deep slashes along its flank. Its breathing was ragged, its claws buried in the snow, yet its bared teeth showed not the slightest hint of fear. The Snow Apes roared and prowled around it, probing for an opening as they prepared to deliver the killing blow to the intruder in their territory.
One against six. The wolf had nowhere left to retreat.
On the branch, Bailey narrowed his eyes. He didn't rush down.
*Sense—Conceive—Establish.*
He scooped up a handful of packed snow, wrapped it in an extremely thin strand of spatial magic, and flicked it toward a shadowed corner on the opposite side.
*POW!*
The snowball flew along a completely warped trajectory and slammed into the tree trunk behind the two Snow Apes preparing to pounce on the wolf.
The unexpected sound in the silence startled the two beasts. Instinctively, they whipped their heads around to inspect their blind spot.
A single opening lasting less than half a second.
But to an apex predator, half a second was more than enough.
As if sensing invisible assistance from the darkness, the White Wolf's red eyes blazed. Its body shot forward like a streak of white lightning!
*SLASH!*
A savage bite sank deep into the first Snow Ape's throat. The crisp crack of breaking bone rang out. Before the beast could even roar, it collapsed onto the snow, black blood gushing from the wound.
The remaining apes instantly went berserk and charged with furious screams.
From the fork of the tree, Bailey continued to act. Snowballs and wood fragments compressed by spatial magic shot out one after another, striking the beasts' blind spots with pinpoint accuracy and shattering their coordinated rhythm. Every time a Snow Ape was distracted for even a tenth of a second, the White Wolf seized the opening with absolute precision.
One pounce snapped a throat. One slash ripped open a major artery.
The white snow turned dark red.
*CRASH!*
When the sixth Snow Ape's body came crashing heavily to the ground, the battlefield finally sank into utter silence.
The White Wolf stood motionless amid the six dead magical beasts. It panted, white vapor puffing between blood-coated teeth. But it remained standing for only a few seconds. Its four legs trembled, and it collapsed to one side, exhaustion plunging it into unconsciousness.
The night wind shrieked through the crowns of the old pines.
Bailey gently dropped from the tree branch onto the thick layer of snow. He approached slowly, never taking his hand off the dagger at his waist.
The wolf lay motionless. Its most serious wound was along its left flank—three deep gashes from a Snow Ape's claws had torn through its thick hide, sending fresh blood gushing without end. In the subzero cold of the Far North, if the bleeding wasn't stopped immediately, it would die from blood loss before dawn broke.
Bailey knelt beside the wolf.
He had no medicine and no magical bandages.
"Let's see if this works."
Bailey drew a deep breath and held his palm about two finger joints from the open wound. His deep-red eyes focused intensely.
*Sense—Conceive—Establish—Control.*
A transparent spatial membrane, thin as a cicada's wing yet possessing a tightly compressed structure, slowly enveloped the wolf's entire wound.
Under the *control* of the spatial boundary's pressure, Bailey forcibly **pressed the ruptured blood vessels tightly back together**, completely isolating the wound from the freezing air outside. No stitches were needed. The spatial membrane acted as an absolute biological seal, locking down the flow of blood and preserving the last trace of fragile warmth within the wild beast's body.
A bead of sweat slid down Bailey's temple, but his expression remained calm.
The amount of mana consumed was well within his control. The wound had stopped bleeding.
Bailey rose, dragged the wolf into a sheltered rock hollow nearby, wedged in a few dry pine branches for additional cover, then sat cross-legged and kept watch through the rest of the dark night.
The next morning.
The first rays of sunlight streamed through the leaves, laying a thin, fragile wash of gold across the white snow.
The White Wolf's eyelids twitched, and it slowly awoke. It sensed the invisible spatial membrane holding the wound along its flank tightly closed, reducing the pain by more than half.
It raised its head.
A few steps away, a white-haired youth in a black cloak trimmed with silver sat with his back against the rock wall, silently cleaning his dagger's blade.
One person. One wolf.
Two pairs of deep-red eyes met in the dawn light of the Far North. There was no threatening growl. No hostile wariness. Only the understanding and silence of beings who carried the same solitary blood-red hue.
The White Wolf slowly stood and walked over to Bailey.
It lowered its head and spat out six small orbs glowing with a faint blue light onto the snow in front of his boots.
They were **six Mana Soul Essence orbs**, crystallized from the six Snow Apes—the purest elemental resource any low-grade Mage would crave to nourish their magical awareness.
The wolf took a step back and tilted its head at Bailey, as if affirming the return gift it offered to the companion who had shared its night in the snow.
Bailey looked at the six glowing essences at his feet, the corner of his mouth curving into a rare smile.
"Looks like this winter... won't be too boring after all."