A chain broke inside Flynn Blackwater. Initially, when he had woken up in the past, his first instinct was to cut ties with it. What good came from repeating a history that ultimately ended in his death and the death of his entire race? But that had somehow changed; this was the second time he had changed something in his past. Each time he changed something, his foreknowledge would become increasingly muddled, yet a calm defused his entire being.

The serenity he felt was not the cold of his skill nor the bliss he felt when giving up within the void; no, it was the catharsis gained when dealing with one's past. Many nights Flynn had woken up in a cold sweat with the first trial, the nightmare of Caden's beatings haunting him even a year later. He was an Indomitable force, a crystallization of fear that Flynn felt held him down even in the distant future.

Now, Flynn felt nothing like that. It was as if, through sheer force, Flynn had broken through the bindings on his soul.

At that moment, Flynn decided he would no longer run from his past; he would not let the chains that bound his path, his cultivation, hinder him in his second life.

Flynn Blackwater would break those chains, one by one, until there was nothing left between himself and the peak. After all, what was Caden in the face of death? What was a bit of fear compared to that endless void of nothing? He would break anything that stood in his path

Currently, three figures stood in his path now, the same wolves from the first phase of the tutorial, and without moving, a simple doa appeared in his hand, plucked from his storage. The sudden appearance of a weapon seemed enough to tip the wolve's bloodlust, and their circling stalk turned into a full-on assault.

Sharp teeth snapped through the place Flynn's neck was just moments prior. His arm swung, and his blade swept through the air, singing with glee as it sliced through the wolf's right side just below its hind leg. It whimpered as blood splattered onto the ground, the attack sending the wolf cartwheeling behind Flynn as he faced his next opponent, sword poised to strike.

The uninjured wolves hesitated as they watched their leader struggle to regain footing, only to fall down from a mix of pain and torn muscle. Flynn was sure it could move, even fight, given enough time, but it was out of the fight. Flynn didn't give the wolves time to regroup, steaming forward toward the monsters with unprecedented speed. With his right arm, he sliced through the air toward one of the wolves heads.

Unfortunately, the wolf was just fast enough to dodge the incoming strike of the simple doa; however, the beast was holy unprepared for the second shorter blade that seemed to appear out of nowhere mid-strike. Flynn dug the grey dagger into the wolf's neck, dragging a chunk of flesh out of the beast as he ripped it free.

Flynn felt the refreshing wash of experience fill his body as he turned towards the second uninjured wolf, a manic grin across his face. This simple trick of pulling a blade from his storage mid-combat wouldn't work as the beast got stronger and stronger. The wild energies of the fight would disrupt the summoning, and people's senses would be far faster than a simple storage device, but for these low-level wolves, it was as if he was death incarnate.

Despite how the movies made it look, welding two blades was complicated. It required complete and utter control of both arms, something Flynn Blackwater honestly didn't possess; compared to his one-handed sword skill, his dual wielding was rubbish. He could clearly remember learning the basic techniques for it. He had just started down the path of dual blades before his memory became a hazy mess ending just after the death of his sword teacher. The thought soured his mood, and he lunged toward his next intended victim.

Flynn flashed forward the uninjured wolf playing guard to his mate. It tensed, ready to dodge, but a pivot and dash sent Flynn straight towards the wolf's comrade, taking its head in one clean motion. The wolve's head tumbled to the ground spraying the forest floor and Flynn with blood. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the final wolf race away in fear.

But how could Flynn let his prey go so easily? After all, there was only one preditor within these woods.