Infinite Mana Exorcist
Chapter 37: Settling things

Chapter 37: Settling things

{mass release 4/5}

Hearing Asher’s command, Fey and the other person slowly grabbed their belongings, careful not to make any sudden movements that could draw attention. They knew trouble was coming, but it was better to keep that knowledge to themselves rather than let the rest of the carriage find out.

If the others realized what was happening, panic would spread like wildfire, and their biggest threat wouldn’t just be whatever was lurking outside—it would be the people inside. They would turn on each other, desperate to claim whatever they could from the dead. The scent of greed was just as dangerous as the scent of blood.

Asher tightened his grip on his bag, pulling it close, and the others followed suit. But before they could fully prepare, a ruckus erupted outside. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, its raw agony sending shivers down their spines.

A second later, another voice rang out, desperate and alarmed.

"Wolves!"

The warning barely had time to sink in before another scream followed—this one shorter, choked, and gurgling. Then, silence.

That adventurer was dead.

Fey’s hand twitched over his weapon as he muttered under his breath, his voice just loud enough for Asher to hear, "Wolves hunt in packs..."

His mind worked quickly, trying to process the situation. If wolves had attacked, they wouldn’t have stopped at just one victim. That meant—

"We need to get out of—"

"Hey, brat! Let me take that off your hands!"

The sudden interruption came from the other side of the carriage. A recognizable figure emerged from the shifting bodies—one of the adventurers from an E-rank party. A smug, snotty grin twisted his face as he stalked forward.

It was the vice captain of that party, and from the glint in his eyes, he wasn’t here to help. He was here to take.

Too quickly.

Asher’s gaze flickered past him, scanning the other passengers. Just as he suspected, they had already turned against each other. Predators, one and all, tearing at each other’s throats to claim whatever spoils they could before the real danger arrived.

It was a sickening sight.

"Hey, brat!" The vice captain sneered, stepping even closer. "Didn’t your mother ever teach you to listen to your elders?"

Before Asher could react, the man grabbed him roughly by the collar, yanking him forward until they were nearly nose to nose. His breath stank of cheap ale and arrogance.

"Malvarick?"

The vice captain’s brows furrowed at the name that slipped from Asher’s mouth. For a moment, he hesitated, as if trying to decipher whether it was a spell. But as seconds passed without a single shift in mana, realization dawned on his face.

"You think I’m dumb enough to—"

BANG!

The deafening gunshot shattered the chaos, silencing the entire carriage in an instant.

For a brief moment, everything seemed to pause.

Then, a fountain of blood sprayed into the air.

The vice captain staggered backward, releasing Asher and clutching at his throat with wide, horrified eyes. A small hole gaped at the center of his neck, sizzling steam rising from the wound.

A bullet.

His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, but no words came—only a gurgling, sickening noise as his blood spilled from the wound. The pain was excruciating, drawn-out, torturous. He staggered, then toppled to the side, his body hitting the wooden floor with a dull thud. He never moved again.

He was dead.

Fey swallowed hard, his throat dry. His voice was barely above a whisper when he muttered, "You could have done it without that much... pain."

The shooter let out an amused scoff.

Malvarick lowered her smoking gun, flipping back the hood of her cloak to reveal long golden hair cascading over her shoulders. She twirled the firearm in her grip before resting it against her hip, her lips curving into a slight pout.

"The bastard refused to pay us properly," she said, tilting her head. "So, he deserved that exit."

Her words carried a brutal finality, but they also held an undeniable truth.

Before anyone could process the scene further, a violent tremor shook the entire carriage.

THUD. THUD.

The walls creaked and groaned as if the very earth beneath them was rebelling.

"Shit," Asher cursed under his breath.

The gunshot had been too loud.

The wolves now knew exactly where they were.

The tremors intensified, rocking the carriage so violently that everyone inside had to brace themselves against the walls. Asher’s sharp eyes darted to the wooden panels—deep, spiderweb-like cracks began forming along the sides.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

’Damn it... The structure’s about to give way.’

The options were clear.

They could stay inside and be torn apart when the carriage collapsed, or they could jump out and fight their way through the nightmare waiting for them outside.

Neither choice was ideal.

But judging by the way the adventurers inside were still too busy tearing at each other’s throats, survival wasn’t on their minds. They wouldn’t move until every last one of them had killed for their loot.

That meant there was no safety here.

"Head to the exit! We’re leaving," Asher commanded.

Fey and Malvarick didn’t hesitate. They rushed toward the small door at the far end of the carriage, ready to escape.

But it was already too late.

The side of the carriage exploded inward.

Wood splintered. Screams rang out. And through the wreckage stepped something far, far worse than any normal wolf.

It was massive—its dark fur nearly black, rippling with unnatural energy that exuded the same eerie aura as the Night Terrors.

A Night Terror Wolf.

Its piercing eyes gleamed with hunger as it surveyed the room. Then, without hesitation, it lunged.

One of the adventurers barely had time to react before the creature was on him. The man had just finished hacking apart a female adventurer’s corpse when the wolf tackled him to the ground.

Fangs sank into his throat.

A wet, grisly tear echoed through the carriage.

Vital organs spilled onto the floor.

The adventurer was dead before he could even scream.

Silence.

A heavy, unnatural silence swallowed the space.

No one moved.

Even Asher felt his pulse quicken. A Night Terror Wolf... in this forest?

’Damn it, this is bad. Wolves hunt in packs... But why isn’t it just a normal beast?’

The beast stood before him now, its gaze flickering between him and the three remaining adventurers. Which one would it choose next?

Asher’s breath slowed. He backed away carefully, knowing that any sudden movement could be his last.

But someone panicked.

"This is bullshit! We’re all gonna die!"

The man’s voice cracked as he fell backward in terror.

The moment his back hit the ground, the wolf’s gaze snapped toward him.

It had found its next prey.

Before anyone could react, the creature moved.

A dark blur. A rush of wind.

Then—

THUMP! SPLOOSH!

The man’s head was gone.

His body collapsed to the floor, a gruesome fountain of blood painting the walls.

The stench of death thickened, suffocating the carriage with its iron tang.

’I... I couldn’t even react to that speed.’

Asher’s teeth clenched as his fingers twitched, instinctively trying to gather mana—but the second he did, a cruel notification flashed before his eyes.

{Forest of Dark Order blocks all use of Mana.

Survive on your sheer strength.}

’Fuck.’