Wasteland: I Awakened A Plant System

As the memories finished replaying, Vikram slowly opened his eyes.

A bitter smile appeared on his face.

"So that’s what really happened..."

He had believed he was exiled by the Mist King, Marcus Denvers. But the truth was far different. His grandfather had never banished him. Consumed by humiliation and uncontrollable anger, Vikram had abandoned the pack of his own free will.

---

After storming out of the Mist Pack, Vikram wandered alone through the dense forest for two days. He moved aimlessly at first, hunting small game to survive and sleeping in makeshift shelters under the trees. The anger still burned hot in his chest, pushing him deeper into the wilderness. He spent hours reflecting on his mistakes, punching trees in frustration until his knuckles bled, and testing his strength against wild animals to vent his rage.

On the second evening, as the sun began to set, Vikram crouched low in human form, preparing to hunt a fat rabbit for his dinner. His movements were silent, his injuries from the public punishment still aching.

Suddenly, several warriors emerged from the surrounding bushes and intercepted him.

Vikram straightened up, showing no fear. He didn’t ask who they were or why they were blocking his path.

The leader sneered. "We are warriors from the Sand Pack. We’ve come to take revenge for our Princess Liora. You have disgraced our pack and insulted the Sand King’s family."

Vikram narrowed his eyes. "You’re lying. You’re not wearing Sand Pack armour."

The warriors laughed coldly. "We don’t want anyone tracing this back to the Sand Pack. Consider it a quiet lesson."

Without exchanging any more words, they attacked.

Vikram, still weakened from the Mist King’s beating, transformed instantly. His body shifted with a surge of power, silver fur covering his muscular frame as he became a towering werewolf. The Sand Pack warriors transformed as well, turning into gray-furred werewolves—the standard color for most of their kind.

Even though Vikram was strong, he was outnumbered and already injured. The gray werewolves swarmed him. Claws slashed across his chest and arms. Fangs sank into his shoulder. He fought fiercely, tearing through two of them with powerful swipes and crushing another against a tree, but their coordinated assault overwhelmed him. A heavy blow to the back of his head finally sent him crashing to the ground, bloodied and severely wounded. Darkness swallowed his vision as he lost consciousness.

---

Meanwhile, Carol and Kara had returned to the Mist Pack after completing their zombie-clearing mission. Upon learning that Vikram had left following a violent public confrontation with the King, they wasted no time. They immediately picked up his scent and set out to search for him, following the trail through the forest with expert precision only werewolves possessed.

Following his lingering scent, they eventually reached the area where the battle had taken place. The metallic smell of blood grew stronger.

They arrived just in time to see Vikram, unconscious and covered in wounds, surrounded by the gray werewolves of the Sand Pack.

Fury ignited in both women. Without a moment’s hesitation, they transformed into their werewolf forms and rushed into the fight.

Kara moved like a storm, her claws ripping through the nearest enemy’s chest with brutal efficiency. Carol was equally ferocious, dodging attacks with agile grace before delivering devastating counter-blows that broke bones and sent wolves flying. Though outnumbered at first, the two women were far stronger than ordinary Sand Pack warriors. Their combined assault turned the tide quickly. Kara tore out the throat of one attacker while Carol crushed another’s leg, forcing him to retreat. The remaining Sand Pack warriors, realizing they faced overwhelming strength, grabbed their injured companions and fled deeper into the forest.

None of them had expected Vikram’s two wives to possess such terrifying power.

Kara and Carol paid them no further attention. Their only concern was Vikram. They reverted to human form, carefully lifted his unconscious, bloodied body, and carried him away.

With no clear destination, they simply continued moving farther and farther from both the Mist Pack and the Sand Pack territories, hoping to find a safe place where he could recover.

It was during this desperate journey that they were discovered by a patrol of Awakened Humans.

Seeing Vikram’s critical condition, the Awakeners immediately brought the three of them back to their hidden stronghold.

And that was how he had ended up in their camp.

---

The journey back to the Mist Pack was much quieter than expected. For a while, none of them spoke as they followed the patrol members through the forest.

Then Carol suddenly moved closer to Vikram. "Are you hungry?"

Vikram blinked. "We just ate before leaving."

"Oh." Carol nodded seriously before taking two more steps. "Then... are you thirsty?"

"...No."

"Sleepy?"

"...No."

Kara couldn’t help but laugh. "Carol, if you keep asking him a question every ten steps, we’ll reach the Mist Pack next month."

Carol puffed out her cheeks. "I’m just making sure he’s okay."

Kara smiled mischievously. "I think you’re making sure he doesn’t forget you for at least five minutes."

"Hmph." Carol wrapped one arm around Vikram’s shoulder possessively. "He wouldn’t dare."

Vikram looked between the two women and sighed. "I haven’t even reached the Mist Pack yet, and you two have already started."

Kara immediately protested. "I didn’t start anything. I was simply pointing out the obvious."

"The obvious?" Carol narrowed her eyes.

"That you’re jealous."

"Jealous?"

Kara laughed. "I’m just giving my dear nephew some breathing room."

"My husband," Carol corrected without missing a beat.

Kara smiled sweetly. "Our husband."

The two stared at each other for a second before bursting into laughter. Hearing them bicker over something so trivial, Vikram couldn’t help shaking his head. The three of them continued walking, their laughter occasionally echoing among the trees. The patrol members kept glancing back, clearly surprised to see the two Mist Princesses playfully teasing and competing for the Young Master’s attention.

---

As they ventured deeper, the patrol members led the way while Vikram, Kara, and Carol followed behind. From time to time, the patrol glanced back at Vikram, unsure what to say. After all, the last time they had seen him, he had stormed out of the Mist Pack in a fit of rage. No one had expected his return.

The surroundings gradually became more familiar. Vikram recognized the ancient trees, the winding streams, and the giant boulders that marked the boundaries of the Mist Pack’s territory. Fragments of memories continuously surfaced in his mind, training here since childhood, hunting in these forests countless times, and knowing every hidden trail like the back of his hand.

"It really is... home," he murmured.

Kara noticed the complicated expression on his face but remained silent. She simply reached over and gently held his hand. Vikram glanced at her and gave a faint smile. "Thank you."

Carol, walking on his other side, nudged his shoulder. "Don’t start getting sentimental now. You still have to face Grandpa."

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere grew heavy again. Even the patrol members unconsciously tensed. Everyone knew what awaited him.

Not long afterward, the forest opened into a vast clearing. Dozens of sturdy wooden houses stood among the towering trees. Children ran through the village while adult werewolves, all in human form, carried meat, repaired buildings, or trained in the open grounds.

The moment the patrol entered, many pairs of eyes turned toward them. Then someone recognized the figure walking in the middle.

"...Vikram?"

"No way..."

"Young Master Vikram is back."

"The Young Master has returned!"

The news spread through the village almost instantly. People stopped what they were doing and stared. Some looked surprised, some curious, and some smiled with visible relief at seeing him alive. Others simply watched in silence.

Ignoring the countless gazes fixed upon him, Vikram slowly looked around the village. Nothing had changed.

After looking around a little, Vikram made his way toward the largest wooden hall at the center of the village. Every step made his heart feel heavier.

When he reached the entrance, the guards seeing him, respectfully pushed the heavy doors open. Vikram slowly walked inside. While Carol and Kara also went behind him.

At the far end of the hall sat the Mist King, his expression as calm and imposing as ever. For a brief moment, the two simply looked at one another.

Then Vikram’s gaze shifted to the seat beside him. His pupils contracted slightly.

The Sand King, Charles, was sitting there.

For an instant, Vikram’s heart skipped a beat. He had thought Charles had come to confront his grandfather because of everything he had done. However, the scene before him completely shattered that assumption.

The two kings were simply sitting calmly across a wooden table, discussing matters as though nothing had happened. There wasn’t the slightest trace of hostility between them. They merely spared Vikram a single glance before continuing their conversation.

Seeing the scene, Vikram froze.

’So... even after what I did, no conflict arose between the two packs...’

A heavy weight lifted from his chest. He had always believed his reckless actions had sparked a war between the Mist Pack and the Sand Pack. But the reality was completely different, their relationship had remained intact.

Vikram slowly lowered his head. A wave of shame washed over him as memories of his past impulsiveness replayed in his mind. He realized just how foolish he had been.

At that moment, the Mist King’s deep voice echoed through the hall.

"So... you finally decided to come home."

Vikram took a deep breath and raised his head.

"Grandfather... I’m back."

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