I was Drafted Into a War as the Only Human
Chapter 53: Enter Fenric

Chapter 53: Enter Fenric

"Yes, Llarm! You’re getting it!" Lucy shouted across the courtyard, his voice carrying over the rustle of morning wind and chirping birds.

The trio—Gindu, Eri, and Llarm—sat cross—legged on the grass, eyes closed, hands resting on their knees, each probing the quiet depths of their own mana. Golden sunlight bathed the field in a warm hue, casting long shadows behind their still forms.

For the past three months, Lucy had been drilling them on the fundamentals of mana circulation. Thanks to his god-blessed ability, what had taken him an hour was taking them weeks. Still, he couldn’t blame them.

’They don’t have a magic cheat code wired into their brains,’ he reminded himself.

Lucy winced slightly, memories of his initiation flooding back—the blinding headache, the pressure of arcane knowledge crashing into his skull like a tidal wave.

’These lucky bastards won’t even feel a thing, he thought, half-jealous.

Llarm’s eyes snapped open. He stood, brushing grass from his uniform. His blonde hair was tied back with a simple cord, and his emerald eyes caught the sun like polished gemstones.

"I think I’ve got it," Llarm said, turning his palms upward, as though testing the air itself. "It’s slow—really slow—but it’s there."

Lucy grinned. "That’s how it starts. Give it a couple more months and you’ll feel like a whole new man."

From nearby, Gindu’s eyes flew open. "How could I let the yellow wyrmling beat me?!" he roared, fists clenched in mock despair.

Even Eri, usually the picture of calm detachment, opened one eye and frowned. Her brow furrowed in concentration, lips pressed in a tight, annoyed line.

Llarm beamed, striking a dramatic pose with one hand to the sky and the other on his hip. "Like you two could ever outshine the amazing Llarm! I am a hero of unimaginable skill!"

That was all it took. Gindu leapt up to argue, and the two launched into their usual back-and-forth, voices rising.

Lucy rolled his eyes. "Alright, Big Wyrm and the Ever-So-Amazing Hero, back to circulating. Save the drama for the arena."

Surprisingly, both obeyed without a word.

That made Lucy pause.

It still felt strange, giving orders to his friends. Even stranger when they listened.

He sat beside them and resumed his mana flow, feeling the energy pulse through his veins like liquid lightning. He had six months. Six months to grow stronger. Six months to close the distance between him and the monsters of this world.

Vorn’s words echoed in his mind.

"Next time we meet, we’ll be enemies."

A chill ran down his spine, out of place in the gentle warmth of the morning sun.

’I’m not strong enough—not yet. But I will be.

I’ll surpass him. Then I’ll tear Ithriel off his throne and give Vorn the life he deserved.’

He pushed his mana harder, faster, letting it burn through his pathways like fire.

That’s when it hit him.

A feeling.

Sharp. Sudden. Dangerous.

His instincts screamed.

He spun on reflex, mana crackling under his skin—just in time to catch a blade with his bare hand.

Steel met flesh with a metallic clang, the impact shock driving Lucy backward, feet skidding across the grass. Dust kicked up around his heels.

Opposite him stood a boy.

Silver hair wild and wind-blown. Gray-furred ears twitching atop his head. And a grin—feral, toothy, thrilled—spread wide across his face. His amber eyes blazed with manic energy.

Lucy didn’t flinch.

He tightened his grip on the blade, meeting the wolf-boy’s crazed stare head-on.

"You must be Tara’s brother," he said coolly, his voice level despite the adrenaline. "It’s nice to meet you."

The boy blinked, startled. For a heartbeat, his grin faltered.

He hadn’t expected the human to block him, not like that.

He eased off the blade. Lucy let go. The sword dropped to the boy’s side with a soft thunk.

"Name’s Fenric," he said, voice low and gravelly. "Nice to meet you, too."

Lucy eyed Fenric closely. He looked about sixteen, wiry and wild, with all the signature traits of a wolf beastkin—sharp canines, twitching ears, the faint musk of raw energy. But something didn’t sit right.

There was... something missing.

His gaze flicked to Eri, who stood nearby with her usual unreadable expression. A breeze passed through the courtyard, lifting a few strands of her short brown hair. Then his mind jumped—an image of Tara flashed through it: her thick, spotted fur, sleek and wild.

His jaw dropped.

Wait a second—

He pointed dramatically at Eri, then swung the finger toward Fenric.

"Why don’t you guys have fur?!"

Eri groaned and facepalmed hard. Fenric blinked slowly, like Lucy had just asked if swords were made of cheese.

"I’ve known you for three months," Eri said flatly, her voice drenched in disappointment. "And you’re just now noticing?"

Lucy flailed. "I—I mean—I just assumed it was like a personal grooming thing!"

"I can’t speak for Fenric," she continued, ignoring his stammering, "but I’m half-elf. When elves and beastkin mix, sometimes you don’t get the fur."

Fenric snorted, his sharp grin returning. "Same here. Got the good looks from the elf side—kept the killer instinct from the beastkin."

Lucy stared, mouth slightly open. "Right. Of course. I totally knew that. I mean, obviously. Like you said—three months."

"Sure," Eri said, folding her arms.

Fenric said nothing. Just kept staring at Lucy with a face that screamed You absolute idiot.

Lucy coughed and looked away, desperate to move on. "Anyway! Fenric—it’s my understanding you want to join this team."

The wolf hybrid shrugged lazily. "Doesn’t matter to me what team I’m on. As long as I get to fight strong people, I’m satisfied."

Lucy sighed.

’Great. Another maniac.’

"Alright, then prove it. You and Eri will spar. Beat her, and you’re in. Lose, and you’ll have to take your chances with Adgrun’s crew."

For a second, Fenric was still.

Then his amber eyes gleamed, not with surprise but with something darker—something feral. He reached up and scratched at his neck with slow, deliberate clawed fingers, a twitch in his smile forming like a crack in a mask.

"Actually," he said softly, "I was hoping to fight you."

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"The wielder of a mythic ability," Fenric continued, voice low, practically vibrating with excitement. "Divine mana in your veins. I can’t imagine anything more exhilarating than ripping you apart."

Lucy blinked.

’What the actual hell?

This guy’s even crazier than I thought.’

Without a word, he turned and walked toward the stone steps bordering the training courtyard. He plopped down, leaned back with a sigh, and gestured lazily.

"If you want to fight me," he said, "then beat her first."