So this really is a creature from over a thousand years ago!

I thought I’d been hardened by this world’s bizarre settings, keeping my cool through anything. But now? I realize I’m still way too naive!

This world is far more complex than I ever imagined. If light walls can be weapons, why wouldn’t a sealed creature age over time?

So… it makes sense that the Bloodthirsty Demon Wolf, Galiath, would grow so old and frail?

Poor old werewolf. He looked withered and skeletal. How long had it been since he last ate…?

*...Target detected. Scanning...*

*...Identification complete. Updating...*

While I was still pitying the old wolf, the long-silent system prompt chimed again. My identification system had auto-activated.

——————

**Name:** Galiath

**Race:** Beastfolk

**Class:** Battle Mage

**Level:** LV65

**Gear:** Walking Stick +0

**Title:** Bloodthirsty Demon Wolf

**Skills:**

- *Hanging by a Thread:* The aged werewolf seems moments from death.

- *Starving:* He hasn’t eaten in years. Hunger gnaws at him.

- *Wolf Incarnation:* Under sun or moon, transforms into a mighty demon wolf.

...

Honestly, despite his ragged, pitiful appearance, Galiath’s stats shocked me rigid.

Beastfolk!

Battle Mage!

LV65!

Especially that level!

Could an LV65 really stand before me already? I’m only LV13!

*Heh heh heh…*

While I stood stunned, the old wolf Galiath chuckled—a cruel, bloodstained laugh, like an executioner savoring his victim’s last breath.

"If I’m not mistaken… you’re five humans, yes?"

*You’re just noticing that now?!*

"Foolish humans…"

I don’t know why villains love saying that.

"Be grateful! The great and merciful Lord Galiath is pleased his seal is broken! So—I’ll devour you all!"

*Grateful? For being eaten?!*

Galiath’s gaze locked onto Dora. He’d instantly spotted the only human here who threatened him: the muscular warrior woman.

He watched Dora warily. Dora watched him back, tense but focused.

A true adventurer—she’d never underestimate an opponent by looks alone.

"I’ll start with you!"

Galiath roared, lunging at Dora. In his mind, her body was already shredded by his mighty claws.

But—

*Crack.*

An unnatural sound snapped from the old wolf’s body. Silence fell.

Galiath’s face tightened. Dora’s expression stayed grim.

The others frowned. Only I looked at the old wolf with concern.

"Uh… Grandpa Wolf? Your waist… are you okay?"

"Fine!" Galiath snapped.

"You look pale. And you just twisted your waist… From my years of observation, that’s osteoporosis. Common in elders—"

"Silence! I’m not old! And what’s ‘os-teo-poro-sis’?!"

Galiath whirled to glare at me, hand on his waist—but the sudden movement was too much. *Snap.* He clutched his neck with a pained gasp. Dislocated.

"...Need help?"

I couldn’t bear it. Bound by tradition to respect elders, I had to help this lonely old soul.

Again, the wolf refused.

"Fine! I’m fine! I don’t need your help!"

He turned back to Dora, eyes suddenly apologetic.

"Ah… forgive me. Could you wait a moment? This dislocation… it stings…"

His tone was sincere. Dora, ever polite, nodded and gestured: *Take your time.*

For half an hour, under five pairs of eyes, the old wolf rubbed his waist and jaw. Only when the pain eased did he shakily push himself up with his cane.

He didn’t attack. Instead, he looked at me with pitiful eyes.

"Earlier… you offered help. Is that still… valid?"

"It is," I nodded. "What do you need, sir?"

"How embarrassing… refusing you before, now begging…" Galiath rubbed his nose sheepishly, one hand pressed to his stomach. "Truth is… I’ve been starving. Over a thousand years without food—I survived on pure energy. But a few years ago… that ran out. Honestly? I’m about to faint from hunger. Talking to you now… it’s all I can do."

"Yeah. I can tell," I said gently. "So… you want something to eat?"

"Yes." Galiath nodded shyly, eyes pleading. "Could I… eat you? Ah—I’ve no strength to chew. Would you… climb into my stomach yourself?"

"Shall I chop myself up first and crawl down your throat?" I smiled sweetly, eyes narrowed.

The old wolf bowed gratefully.

"That would be perfect—"

"Go to hell."

I kept smiling. Galiath froze, then clutched his chest, coughing violently. He raised a trembling finger at me.

"You—you—you dare insult me?! I—I—I—*urk*—"

He collapsed before finishing.

I almost laughed at how easily this dumb wolf fainted from rage.

But my smirk died in a second.

A system chime echoed in my skull:

*Ding! Killed ‘Bloodthirsty Demon Wolf’ Galiath. Gained 30,000 EXP…*

*Level Up! Current Level: LV14…*

*Level Up! Current Level: LV15…*

*Level Up! Current Level: LV16…*

*Unlocked Title: Foul-Mouthed*

The prompt vanished as fast as it came. I stood dumbfounded.

Galiath… just died?

No way.

*Really* dead?!

I stared at the motionless old wolf.

*Did I actually… kill him with words?!*

*Just by cursing him?!*

Dora sensed it too. Galiath’s presence had vanished from her awareness.

His body lay there—but no breath, no aura.

*What happened?*

She crept closer. No reaction. No rise of his chest.

*Could he be…?*

Dora knelt, gently rolled him over, and pressed fingers under his nose.

After a long pause, she stood, scratching the back of her head. Her face twisted with disbelief. She hesitated, then spoke slowly:

"Well… it seems like…"

"Dead?"