The morning sun crept lazily through the warehouse windows, illuminating the mess of leather, short swords, and shields scattered across the floor. The low-tier pet they had dispatched yesterday lay dissected on the table, its useful parts neatly separated by the squad.
Rufus leaned against a crate, casually swirling a mug of coffee as he demonstrated the real magic of his Minion's power. With a subtle motion, he absorbed the residual energy from the slain creature. The squad noticed only the faint glow of their spheres and the slight hum in the air—they had no idea how it worked, and honestly, they weren't supposed to.
"See that?" Rufus said lightly, pointing at his internal sphere. "Most of this power goes to me. The rest trickles into yours. Think of it like… a bonus. Keep it charged, and it'll keep you moving."
Fred grinned, eyeing the faintly glowing spheres on their belts. "So… we're basically getting free energy snacks?"
Rufus ignored him. "Exactly. Don't get used to it."
The squad went to work, dissecting, cataloging, and organizing. Efficiency was key. Every part had a use—either for resale, upgrades, or future missions. By the time Rufus was done absorbing the last echoes of energy, the squad had not only cleaned up the lab but had done so without wasting a single second.
---
Back at the base, the relaxed chaos of post-mission life shifted subtly as Rufus stepped from observer to commander.
"All right," he said, stretching. "Here's the deal: Fred, you're over-aggressive sometimes—cool it. Lira, your strategies are great, but remember to adjust in real time. Tess, Nami, I swear, if you two start squabbling over formation points again, I'll assign you both to wolf-cleaning duty next mission."
Fred rolled his eyes, but a small grin peeked through. Lira scowled, but she nodded. Tess and Nami exchanged brief smirks before grudgingly settling into their assigned spots.
Rufus guided them through tactical adjustments: which shields to use in Engage or Full Mode, how to react if someone lagged behind, and subtle ways to optimize energy spheres during minor encounters. He corrected, they adjusted, they improved. Over and over, small loops of trial and error.
"You guys are improving," he said lightly, leaning back. "Don't get cocky, but don't sulk either. Keep your spheres humming. Trust me, it'll save your butt."
Fred's exaggerated salute made everyone laugh, Tess rolled her eyes, and Lira gave a small, restrained smile. Even in training, the squad was slowly becoming a team.
---
A ping from the National Guard database drew Rufus' attention.
"New mission," he said casually. "Wolf pack. Tiered threat for minor guilds. Looks like we're going to make friends with nature… violently."
The briefing was short but clear. The leader was a Second-Order Wolf King—a rare, dangerous predator. Attacks had been escalating in the outer districts. Minor guilds had been failing to contain them, which is why Black Swan, now officially recognized at the national level but still relatively low-ranked, was getting the task.
"First real test," Rufus said, reviewing past mistakes with the squad. "Check your gear. Check your spheres. Pay attention. I don't want repeat performances of yesterday's slapstick maneuvers."
Fred muttered something about hoping the wolves didn't notice him first.
Lira smirked. "Just try to survive without tripping over your own sword this time."
Rufus rolled his eyes, but internally he was pleased. The team was small, low-level, and underestimated by everyone. No rivalries, no pressure from higher-ups, just a chance to practice and get their bearings.
Some minor guild gossip filtered through the data feed—names of other small guilds, petty rivalries, and exaggerated tales of heroics—but Black Swan was nothing more than an invisible observer. For now, that was perfect.
"Pack's not huge, but leader's strong," Rufus said, checking the squad. "Stay sharp. Stick to formation. And remember: spheres full, shields ready. We move when I say."
The squad nodded, adjusting straps, checking weapons, and activating their energy spheres. Excitement mixed with nervousness, but above all, a quiet anticipation: the first taste of the wild was about to begin.