...
{Ember's POV}
I slowly opened my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs.
I was seated in a lotus position, having meditated for the past hour.
It was part of my daily routine, something I never skipped no matter how tired or busy I was.
Meditation didn't make me stronger or faster, but it did help me keep my mind calm and focused — something that had proven to be invaluable in this world.
After a moment of stillness, I stood up and stretched lightly before glancing toward the wall where a small calendar hung.
My eyes stopped on today's date, and a wave of nostalgia washed over me.
Seventeen years and two months — that's how long it had been since I was reincarnated into this world.
And it had been almost nine months since I escaped from Alf's Forest.
Time sure moved differently here; it was hard to believe that so much had already passed.
"I haven't sent them any letters either," I muttered to myself.
The thought had been weighing on my mind for a while now.
Back when I left, I had discussed it with the others and decided that I wouldn't contact them for at least a year.
It was a safety measure — the less my father knew about my whereabouts, the better.
Still, lately, the thought of them worrying about me made my chest feel heavy.
Maybe sending a letter early wouldn't be such a bad idea.
After all, it wouldn't be too difficult to have the guild handle the delivery to Alf's Forest.
After giving it a bit more thought, I stepped out of my small house and started walking toward the guild.
The sun was already up, and the streets were beginning to fill with the usual morning activity — merchants setting up stalls, adventurers heading out, and children playing nearby.
As I was passing by one of the open areas, a familiar voice called out to me.
"Sir Tithonus! Wi–Will you play with us?" a young boy tugged lightly at my clothes and looked up at me with expectant eyes.
I recognized him instantly and couldn't help but smile.
Gently patting his head, I replied, "Sorry, but I'm busy today. Though I'll play with you guys later on, okay?"
His face instantly brightened, the disappointment replaced by excitement.
"Really? Promise?" he asked, holding out his pinky finger.
"Yes," I said, matching his gesture with a small grin.
"Pinky promise."
He cheered happily at my response, then ran off to join his friends, all of them laughing as they disappeared around the corner.
I let out a small sigh, feeling a quiet sense of relief seeing how cheerful he looked.
He had gone through so much, and seeing him like this now reminded me how much progress he had made.
"He's recovered quite a bit, Sir Tithonus," said Disha as she approached me from behind, her gaze following the kid.
"A few others have started to recover too. Unfortunately, most of them are still struggling with trauma."
"He's happy because of you," Disha said with a small, genuine smile, her tone filled with quiet gratitude.
I gave a slight nod in response, my mind briefly drifting back to the events that had led to this point.
When I had first rescued those slaves, three of them were already dead by the time I reached them.
The rest had survived, but they were left scarred — both physically and mentally.
The trauma they carried was not something that could be easily erased.
Thankfully, the Guild, along with three different familias, had stepped in to take responsibility for their care and rehabilitation.
They provided them with food, shelter, and a sense of safety — something they hadn't known in a long time.
This kid, Aaron, was one of them.
He had been the first to recover, the first to start smiling again.
Seeing him running around like a normal child these days brought a small sense of relief to me, even if the memories of what had happened still made my blood boil.
All of those victims had suffered immensely.
They had been brutally abused, tortured, and dehumanized in the worst possible ways.
Most of the women had been raped repeatedly by those bastards, while the men — if they weren't killed outright — were beaten and mutilated for sport.
The young boys hadn't been spared either.
The female bandit who was part of that group had taken her turn abusing them, proving she was no less twisted than the others.
Every one of those bandits was a piece of filth that didn't deserve mercy.
They were filthier than monsters.
I didn't regret killing a single one of them, not even for a second.
"Anyway, Miss Disha, I wanted to talk with you about something," I said, pulling my thoughts back to the present. She turned to look at me, curiosity flickering across her face.
"Yes? What is it you need?" she asked.
I explained to her that I wanted to send a letter — one that needed to be delivered anonymously, without any trace leading back to me.
She listened carefully, and after a brief pause, she replied, "Well, that kind of request isn't particularly difficult… but it can be quite costly."
She adjusted her glasses and continued, "Normally, letters are sent directly to their destination if there's a direct route or connection available. Otherwise, they're first delivered to a larger guild branch in another city, and from there, redirected to the intended location. In your case, we actually do have a guild branch on the outskirts of Alf's Forest. From there, the letter can be handed over to the local post office in Alf City for delivery."
She then lowered her voice slightly.
"However, if you really want to send it anonymously, that's going to be more expensive. Letters sent that way are first routed to Orario, where they're handled through confidential channels before being sent to the next destination. I'll have to check the exact cost for that kind of service."
I nodded slowly.
"That's fine. Please let me know as soon as you find out the total."
"Leave it up to me!" she said with a reassuring smile, her tone confident.
We continued walking toward the guild building together.
As soon as we stepped inside, I could immediately feel the tension hanging in the air.
Conversations were hushed, and several adventurers had serious expressions on their faces.
It didn't take long before Disha spoke again.
"By the way, Sir Tithonus," she said, glancing at me with a worried expression, "the signs of a beast horde have started alarming the town. Preparations are already being made. Adventurers will soon be stationed along the outer walls to strengthen defenses. The newer adventurers and rookies will remain inside the city, supported by one Level Two adventurer in each squad, while the more experienced ones will be deployed to the periphery."
"Things have gotten messy, huh?" I muttered under my breath, trying to make sense of the growing tension around the guild. Before I could say anything else, I heard someone shouting my name from a distance.
"Tet! There you are!"
I turned my head toward the voice and found Mika standing a few meters away, waving her hand to grab my attention.
Her face was filled with worry, and the urgency in her tone made it clear that this wasn't some casual greeting.
"What's up, Mika?" I asked, walking toward her.
She was the calmer of the two sisters — more inclined toward the use of magic, unlike her sister who was all about brute strength and close combat.
"Tet, the activity of monsters has increased rapidly!" she said, her voice tense and quick. "I think it won't be long before the Beast Horde starts!"
Her words immediately made my eyes narrow in concern.
The fact that even Mika, who usually stayed composed, was this nervous meant things were really getting out of hand.
"I thought we still had some time left!" Disha suddenly said, clearly startled as she overheard us.
"This isn't good… we'll need to mobilize the adventurers immediately!"
Without wasting a second, she rushed off to ring the Guild's siren, the loud alarm that signaled every available adventurer to prepare for combat.
I sighed and followed her out, my boots echoing against the stone path as I made my way toward the outer town wall.
Thankfully, I had already worn my light armor today, along with my sword strapped securely at my side and my small magic stuff was hung over my back.
I was ready for a fight if it came to that — though I didn't expect things to escalate this quickly.
As we reached the defensive walls, the air suddenly filled with shouts.
"Wyverns!" someone yelled hysterically from one of the watchtowers.
I looked up sharply and saw several of them flying overhead, their large wings casting wide, ominous shadows across the snow-covered wall.
The sight made the surrounding adventurers break into panic; several were scrambling to ready their weapons or find cover.
No time to hesitate.
"O' Flames of Legends! Burn brighter than thy enemy! Turn them into cinders! Let their ashes wash in your blue flames! Cremation!"
The chant left my mouth almost instinctively, my hand firmly gripping the staff.
From its tip, a massive torrent of blue fire erupted, roaring toward the sky like a wave of heat and destruction.
The temperature spiked instantly, and the air shimmered as the flames struck the group of wyverns head-on.
SCREEECHHH!!!
Their screams echoed through the sky, sharp and ear-piercing.
The magic burned through their wings and scales, instantly killing several of them.
Their bodies disintegrated into fine dust as their magic stones dropped and clattered onto the frozen ground below.
A few of the wyverns fell from the sky in flames, while the rest scattered in disarray — some badly wounded, others trying to retreat in panic.
"That's Blue Hell!!!" someone shouted, breaking the brief silence that followed.
"Blue Hell! Blue Hell!" more voices joined in, a growing chant spreading through the group like wildfire.
I groaned internally, feeling the urge to facepalm.
This was hardly the time for cheers.
"You idiots! Stop dozing around and take out the remaining wyverns!" I barked, raising my voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
That did the trick.
The adventurers immediately snapped out of their excitement and refocused, shouting battle cries as they aimed their weapons and spells toward the remaining enemies.
The wyverns, realizing the tide had turned, began to thrash and panic — some dove down recklessly while others tried to escape higher into the air.
Two of them, however, swooped down directly toward us.
Mika was quick to respond.
She raised her staff and began chanting, summoning several dense bullets made of solid earth that she fired off at high speed.
The earthen projectiles smashed into the wyverns' wings, causing them to screech and lose balance as they landed heavily before us.
"Damn it!" Mika shouted as the impact shook the ground.
I didn't waste time.
Drawing my sword, I rushed forward.
The first wyvern lunged, its massive jaws snapping toward me, but I ducked under its bite and drove my sword upward, piercing straight through its abdomen.
Hot blood splattered onto my armor, but I ignored it, using the momentum to jump up and bring my blade down into the skull of the second wyvern, slicing through with precision.
Both monsters fell lifeless to the ground, their bodies twitching before going still.
The last wyvern, badly wounded and staggering, was finished off by another adventurer who appeared from behind us, his weapon slicing clean through its neck.
"It's Brian! Level 2 of the Modi Familia!" someone shouted, and the crowd immediately erupted into cheers.
I almost groaned on the spot.
This was, without a doubt, the most NPC moment I had ever witnessed in my entire life.
Brian gave a smug wave, clearly enjoying the attention, while I decided to ignore the whole spectacle and focus on what actually mattered — survival.
Without wasting a second, I rushed toward the outer wall where the rest of my party was stationed.
The air was thick with the smell of blood, smoke, and dust kicked up by the battle.
Monsters were roaring in the distance, and the sound of metal clashing against claws filled the atmosphere.
"Amalda!" I called out as soon as I spotted her — the black-haired Elf standing a few meters ahead, her bow drawn, releasing arrows with precise control.
"Sir Tithonus! Finally, you're here!" she said with a mix of relief and excitement, quickly glancing at me before returning her focus to the front lines.
"How's the situation here?" I asked urgently, scanning the battlefield.
From where I stood, I could already see dozens of monsters emerging from the shade of the trees — orcs, goblins, and kobolds spilling out in waves.
"It's holding up for now," she replied between shots.
"The monsters we've encountered so far were mostly weak Level 1s, but the sudden appearance of wyverns completely caught us off guard."
I followed her gaze to the horizon, where the forest stretched far and wide.
Adventurers were fighting in every direction — swords flashing, arrows flying, and spells bursting with color.
Despite their numbers, the efficiency was noticeably low.
The cold was biting, and the exhaustion on their faces was clear.
It was winter, after all.
Even though the day had started sunny, I could already see black clouds forming in the distance.
A snowstorm was coming — and fast.
I frowned.
"This is bad," I muttered under my breath.
The real threat wasn't just the monsters.
Once the snowstorm began, the freezing wind and blinding visibility would make it nearly impossible to fight effectively.
It would turn the battlefield into a deathtrap.
"I guess I'll take up the role of a magician," I said firmly, stepping forward.
Amalda nodded immediately, though I could tell she was struggling to stay composed.
Her face was pale, a clear sign that she had exhausted her mental strength using too much healing magic already.
"Leave the front line to the others," I said, raising my staff.
"I'll handle the rest."
Taking a deep breath, I began my chant — the familiar words flowing from my lips as I gathered mana into the staff.
The air vibrated faintly around me, blue sparks flickering at the edges of my vision.
The nearby adventurers noticed my chant and instinctively moved aside, giving me room to unleash the spell.
When the magic circle beneath me flared to life, I released the spell.
"Cremation!"
A torrent of bluish flames burst from the staff's tip, roaring across the battlefield.
The moment it hit the ground, the explosion of fire engulfed a group of orcs, disintegrating them in an instant.
The heat warped the air, and the monsters' roars turned into screams before they were reduced to ashes, their magic stones falling lifelessly to the ground.
Gasps followed.
Even though they had seen this before, the reaction was always the same — shock.
No matter how many times adventurers witnessed it, seeing a Level 1 magician obliterate an entire group of orcs with a single spell was something that left jaws hanging every time.
I didn't stop there.
I continued hurling spells one after another, blue fire lighting up the battlefield as I burned through hordes of monsters.
Every blast took down multiple enemies — kobolds, goblins, and even a few orcs that had crept closer to the line.
By the time my mana had reached half, I finally stopped.
My breathing was heavy, and sweat ran down my face despite the cold.
I quickly pulled out a mind potion from my belt, popped the cork, and chugged it down.
The bitter taste lingered for a few seconds, but I could already feel my mind clearing.
"Do you need me to heal you?" Amalda asked, concern written all over her face.
I shook my head.
"No need. I'm fine," I replied.
Moving closer to the stone fence, I noticed a bow lying beside a fallen adventurer.
I grabbed it without hesitation, along with a half-full quiver of arrows.
"Can you fetch me some poison arrows?" I asked.
She nodded silently and rushed off to get them.
In the meantime, I aimed at one of the hellhounds prowling near the frontline.
Drawing the bowstring back, I steadied my breath and released the arrow.
Thwip!
The arrow sliced through the cold air and pierced straight into the hellhound's skull.
It let out a dying growl before collapsing lifelessly onto the ground.
Without pausing, I notched another arrow and aimed at an orc.
The beast turned just in time for the arrow to strike its eye, making it roar in agony before turning into dust as its magic stone shattered.
My rhythm was steady — draw, aim, release.
One after another, I kept firing, alternating between normal and poison-tipped arrows once Amalda returned with the supply.
Each shot found its mark with precision born of experience.
By the time I emptied two full quivers of regular arrows and a dozen poison-tipped ones, over half the monsters near our section of the wall had been either killed outright or severely injured.
Out of every shot I took, only three had missed their targets — and even then, they had hit something else that wasn't completely useless.
Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed through the entire area — so loud and primal that it sent a shiver down everyone's spine, including mine.
The ground itself seemed to vibrate, and an instinctive sense of dread filled the air.
"What was that?!" someone shouted in panic, their voice almost drowned by the continuous howls and screeches of other monsters.
My eyes immediately darted around, scanning the battlefield for the source of that sound — and then I saw it.
Emerging from behind the tree line, crushing the smaller monsters under its massive feet, was a colossal figure.
It was a Mammoth Fool — a towering beast with thick, white fur and four enormous tusks, two on each side of its mouth, curving outward like deadly spears.
The sight alone made my blood run cold.
"That… that's a Mammoth Fool!" someone stammered, their voice trembling.
Everyone froze in place for a brief moment as the giant creature let out another roar, shaking the snow from the trees.
The other monsters, instead of joining the attack, scattered out of its way, running for their lives as if they were terrified of it.
There was no doubt now — this thing was the cause of the monster horde.
It wasn't just a stray beast; it was leading the chaos.
The Mammoth Fool was infamous among adventurers — a monster that typically appeared in the middle floors of the Dungeon, nowhere near the upper surface.
It was equivalent to a Level 3 threat, one that required a coordinated party of at least four well-trained Level 3 adventurers to safely bring down.
However, there was one small consolation: its speed.
For all its size and power, the Mammoth Fool was notoriously slow.
Because of that, a single, highly skilled and fast Level 3 could potentially defeat it alone — if they were experienced enough.
Unfortunately, things rarely went as expected.
At first, it didn't seem like much of a threat.
We had a Level 4 adventurer with us, and the moment the monster appeared, he immediately stepped forward to handle it.
His name was Griffith, a well-known warrior and the strongest person present on the field.
With his level and skill, the fight should have been over quickly.
At least, that's what we all thought.
Before the battle could even progress properly, the weather decided to betray us.
The first flakes of snow began to fall, soft and harmless at first — but within minutes, the light snowfall turned into a blinding snowstorm.
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" someone shouted — it was Bosh, his frustration audible even through the wind.
Visibility dropped almost instantly.
The wind howled so fiercely that it became hard to stand straight.
I could barely make out Griffith's silhouette through the swirling snow, but from what I could see, he was struggling.
And that didn't make sense.
He was a Level 4, for gods' sake!
He should have been able to destroy the thing easily.
Instead, he was being pushed back, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated against the enraged beast.
(A/N: Ember expected too much for an Average Level 4)
'Oh, come on… seriously?!' I thought, groaning inwardly as I rubbed my temples.
How in the world is a Level 4 having this much trouble?
Then it hit me — of course.
It was rare knowledge, something only a few adventurers knew, but certain monsters gained increased strength depending on the environment or weather.
And if there was ever a creature suited for a snowstorm, it was definitely the Mammoth Fool.
I could practically imagine it — the freezing cold empowering its muscles, the blizzard masking its movements, its natural habitat giving it a massive edge.
Still, it was frustrating.
"He's supposed to be the strongest one here," I muttered to myself.
Then an urgent voice cut through the chaos.
"Magicians! Support Sir Griffith! Help him bring down that monster!" a man shouted, trying to rally the spellcasters over the howling wind.
I let out a long sigh and shook my head.
"Guess it's time for me to move," I muttered, already running toward the wall to get into position.
As I reached the ledge, I spotted Juliet, one of the senior magicians, standing a few meters away.
She was dressed in a deep purple robe, her pointed hat swaying in the wind — she looked exactly like the stereotypical witch straight out of an RPG.
"Already recovered, lad?" she asked, glancing at me briefly, her eyes sharp despite the storm.
I gave a short nod.
"Yeah, more or less."
She didn't waste time.
"Good. Then let's hit that beast hard," she said and immediately began chanting her magic.
Her voice rose steadily against the storm, the runes around her staff starting to glow with violet light.
I began my own chant right beside her, synchronizing my rhythm with hers.
This time, though, I didn't rush it.
Instead, I deliberately slowed down my incantation, carefully pouring more mana and mental focus into the spell.
"Cremation!"
My chant finally concluded — much later than the others.
Most of the other magicians had already finished their incantations two or even three times over by the time I unleashed mine.
However, the difference in effect was instantly clear.
The torrent of blue flames that erupted from my staff was lighter in color, almost white-blue at the core, radiating a searing intensity that could melt through steel.
As the blazing inferno struck the Mammoth Fool, the impact was catastrophic — its massive limb was instantly vaporized, leaving behind nothing but a charred stump.
The beast let out an earth-shaking bellow of agony before collapsing, its huge body crashing into the ground with a thunderous boom.
That single moment gave Griffith the opening he needed.
Without hesitation, the Level 4 warrior lunged forward and drove his weapon deep into the creature's exposed neck, finishing it off for good.
The battlefield erupted into cheers.
Everyone shouted in celebration, their morale suddenly soaring as the massive threat was finally brought down.
Around me, several magicians stood frozen, their eyes wide in disbelief at what they had just witnessed.
Even I was taken aback by the sheer destructive force of my spell — but I didn't let it show.
Instead, I quickly composed myself and began panting heavily, pretending to be exhausted.
I bent slightly, trying to make it look convincing enough.
Pulling out a Mind Potion, I uncorked it and downed the entire bottle in one go.
The familiar burn hit my throat as I swallowed, and I let out a quiet groan.
'Damn… I just used over twenty-five percent of my total mana with that single spell!' I thought to myself, annoyed.
If I had gone all out — used half of my mana or even my full mind — that attack might have completely obliterated the Mammoth.
I sighed inwardly.
As much as the success felt good, I couldn't help but curse myself for drawing too much attention.
I really shouldn't have made such a big scene… but what's done is done.
Being an Elf, I was naturally talented in magic, so at least I had a convenient excuse.
People would just assume that my magic had reached full potential due to my racial affinity.
And honestly, they wouldn't be entirely wrong — Elves did have an advantage when it came to magical ability.
Besides, magicians generally held an edge over melee fighters in long-range combat anyway, so this outcome wasn't too unbelievable.
"Tet! Are you alright?" a familiar voice called out.
It was Amalda, her expression filled with concern as she rushed over to support me.
I gave her a small nod, a bit embarrassed since I was only pretending to be weak.
Thankfully, the cold weather made my skin pale enough that my act looked convincing.
"The monster horde is almost over. You should take a rest," said Juliet, her voice calm but firm.
Her crimson lipstick stood out vividly against her pale skin as she gave me a suspicious glance.
I nodded again in agreement, exhaling softly.
A moment later, Griffith returned, still catching his breath but grinning widely.
"Was that you? Tithonus, right? That was freaking awesome!" he said enthusiastically.
"I could feel the heat from your magic even from way back where I was!"
He reached out as if to pat me on the shoulder — but before his hand could even get close, Amalda's whip-like reflexes kicked in.
She smacked his hand away with a sharp movement, her emerald eyes narrowing dangerously.
"No touching Elves," she said coldly, her tone making it clear she wasn't joking.
I blinked, speechless at the sight. Griffith clicked his tongue and backed off, muttering, "Fine! You arrogant Elf…"
He then huffed and added, "Anyway, don't worry — a portion of the loot will be yours considering your contribution."
"I guess that's fair," I replied, forcing a small smile.
"Anyway, I'd like to take some rest now. Also, Miss Amalda, could you please let go of my hand? I can walk perfectly fine."
Amalda blinked, realizing she was still gripping my wrist tightly.
"Ah— sorry," she murmured, immediately releasing me.
I gave her a polite nod before quickly leaving the area, finally getting some distance from the crowd.
'I guess this is exactly why they're still stuck here…' I thought to myself, glancing back briefly at Griffith and the others.
Despite his level, Griffith was clearly just an average Level 4 adventurer — nowhere near the elite caliber of those found in Orario.
And honestly, that said a lot about this place.
The adventurers here were strong enough to protect the town, sure, but compared to the true monsters of Orario, they were leagues behind.
It was clear that Goddess Aschelois had no immediate plans to move her Familia to Orario — probably not for several more decades, at least.
They seemed comfortable staying in this region for now.
Other gods weren't faring much better.
Even Zeus and Hera's Familias who were present in the Orario didn't have their top adventurers as they will peak in the future, they still had several Level 6s and Level 7s — each one a seasoned powerhouse in their own right.
The Golden Era of Adventurers hasn't come yet.
'Anyway… it's time to rest,' I thought, exhaling deeply as the adrenaline finally began to fade.
Finding an empty spot inside the Guild, I sat down heavily on one of the benches, my sword resting against the wall beside me.
The warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the biting cold outside, and for the first time in hours, I let my shoulders relax.
The battle was over, at least for now.
To be continued...
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