Hugh stored the core in his pack, then crouched slightly before launching himself like an arrow onto a thirty-meter-high canopy. After scanning the horizon, he pointed decisively. "With three youngsters in tow, we're limited to the forest's outskirts," he explained.
The party pressed onward. Merlen scanned the surroundings for potential contract beasts, while Moses evaluated suitable gifts for apprenticeship. Only Xizer noticed something amiss. "Uncle Hugh, why haven't we seen any other adventurers along this route?"
"We've been avoiding them in advance." Hugh ran a meaningful hand over his sword hilt. "In this forest, the deadliest threats are never the monsters."
Xizer nodded in dawning understanding. Quietly extending his heightened spiritual perception, he confirmed that whenever disturbances arose ahead, Hugh would subtly adjust their path.
A deafening explosion suddenly erupted from the northwest, startling even Merlen and Moses into halting. The air carried the scent of charred matter mingled with bestial roars.
"Let's investigate, Uncle Hugh," Xizer suggested. "We might be able to help."
Pushing through dense foliage, they emerged into a clearing where a two-story-tall giant bear was locked in combat with a well-equipped party. Its razor-sharp claws shredded tree trunks thick as barrels, while its bellows shook leaves from the branches.
"Adult Ragebear—Grade-Six monster," Hugh murmured. "Strength to split mountains, hide like iron. Its power surges when enraged."
Four shield-bearing warriors formed an encirclement while archers loosed cold arrows from afar. But the most striking figure was the mage in deep blue robes. Chanting ancient incantations, he gathered blazing fireballs at his staff's tip, each impact searing blackened wounds into the bear's hide.
Just as the Ragebear teetered on death's edge, the enemy party abruptly tightened formation. Two warriors fell back while the archers subtly redirected their aim toward Xizer's group.
"Seems we're not welcome," Bolton shrugged, unperturbed.
"Can we take them?" Xizer studied the opposing lineup with keen interest.
Bolton snorted. "If our commander gave the word, none would escape."
Yet Hugh simply turned away. "Time to find our real prey." His back remained casually exposed to the enemy—a move that bordered on audacious.
In truth, everyone except Moses secretly hoped their rivals would strike first. Bolton stared so intently at the hesitant archer, he nearly willed the arrow into flight.
When the enemy finally lowered their bows, Xizer clearly heard a disappointed sigh ripple through his own party.
Not long after Xize's party disappeared around the mountain bend, the adventuring squad finally succeeded in slaying the raging bear. While the warriors were cheerfully carving up the magical beast's carcass, they noticed their mage's grim expression, his fingers unconsciously tracing the crystal embedded in his staff.
The party's leader—an archer—halted cautiously five paces from the mage and bowed. "Has your grace sensed something amiss?" He knew well the prestige of this spellcaster from the royal capital, having been repeatedly instructed by Lord McClain to obey the mage's commands without question.
The mage's robes stirred as if touched by an unfelt wind, his voice carrying the lingering resonance of magic. "Did you recognize that party who passed by earlier?"
"I'm familiar with most elite mercenary groups around Benedict," the archer mused. "Their equipment suggests nobility from distant lands. Yet bringing children into dangerous territory..." He left the implication hanging with a meaningful shake of his head.
The mage's gaze remained fixed on the path where Xize had vanished, the crystal atop his staff glowing faintly. The image of that golden-haired child lingered in his mind—was this mere coincidence, or a portent of gathering storms?
Meanwhile, Xize thoughtfully withdrew his gaze. He'd keenly observed the mage's particular interest in Moses, putting him on alert. Then again, Moses rarely appeared in public as the royal grandson—perhaps he was overthinking this.
His thoughts were interrupted by the warriors' collective sighs of relief. Their demeanor reminded him of street-smart ruffians who knew how to adapt—unrefined but practical. A faint smile touched his lips; he rather admired such pragmatic survival instincts.
"Rest here," Xiu's brief command was met with visible relief. As the warriors efficiently cleared a campsite, Maren quietly approached Xize amidst the dancing firelight. "When do we seek ourfamiliar?"
Nearby, Moses unconsciously leaned forward at the question. Xize's eyes sparkled with mischief. "If we're forming bonds, we should seek the most powerful magical beasts. We'll venture deeper this afternoon—perhaps we'll find suitable fledglings."
Xiu stood, signaling the resumption of their journey. As they progressed, the dense canopy gave way to jagged rock formations. When a porous stone mountain loomed before them, Xiu suddenly raised his hand to halt the party. After scaling the cliff alone to investigate, he returned with a mysterious smile. "Thefamiliar you seek awaits atop this peak."
While Maren and Moses struggled up the steep slope piggybacking on warriors, they watched Xize navigate the treacherous cliffs as effortlessly as walking level ground. Xiu observed the youth's agile movements with contemplative eyes.
The summit view stole everyone's breath—a massive nest dominated the central stone platform where two bluish-grey giant birds were tearing at prey. Their hooked beaks glinted coldly in sunlight, folded wings blending seamlessly with the rocky backdrop.
"Rock Rocs, earth-aligned sixth-tier magical beasts," Xiu said with deliberate significance. "They comprehend human speech, Xize. Try communicating with them."
Xize took a deep breath and stepped forward. Weighing how to appear friendly yet dignified, he finally raised his right hand and spoke in solemn, clear tones: "May the elements be with—"
His ritual greeting was shattered by an ear-splitting shriek. The sky filled with plummeting stones as the sixth-tier earth spell "Avalanche" engulfed the mountaintop.
Xize glanced back in panic to find Xiu already sheltering the two boys in a rock crevice—and winking at him. He hastily leaped toward the nearest fissure, flying gravel grazing his clothes as he silently vowed to make this unreliable guardian pay dearly.
No sooner had the group taken cover within the rocky crevice than the pair of rock falcons' golden slit-pupiled eyes gleamed with unnervingly human-like mockery.
It was common knowledge that the higher a magical beast's rank, the greater its intelligence. These rock falcons possessed wit rivaling humans and combat experience far surpassing them. Ordinary warriors needed to form battle arrays to contend with high-tier magical beasts; even prodigies rarely subdued creatures of equal rank alone.
This was precisely why Hugh had led them deep into the mountains—warriors grown dull from peace would lose their edge, no matter how strong.
As the group fully entered the falcons' chosen battlefield, the raptors' eyes glittered with triumph. With a sudden beat of their wings, the once-smirking warriors gasped in horror—the surrounding stone walls writhed and constricted like living flesh.
They realized then: these falcons not only mastered earth magic but possessed an innate talent for reshaping terrain. What appeared to be natural fissures were meticulously laid death traps.
Caught off guard, the entire squad was ensnared. Yet these were veterans of countless battles. They swiftly formed defensive formations, bracing against the crushing stone. Though their clothes tore to shreds, they barely managed to wrench free.
The circling falcons fixed their killing intent upon the group, particularly spiteful toward Xize for his earlier provocation. A hail of sharp rocks targeted the youth, who'd just escaped the crevice only to face another assault. Internally, he groaned.
With so many targets, the falcons relied on area spells. Xize wove through the storm with raw agility—clumsy but surprisingly effective. It was during these evasions that he noticed something odd: each time the falcons cast a spell, their feathers dimmed slightly.
This wasn't ordinary molting. Their plumage was condensed from pure magical energy—stored as feathers in peacetime, converted back into spells in battle. This unique method made them near-perpetual mobile artillery.
Compared to Xize's roughness, the warriors' dodges flowed with practiced grace. Burton, who lived by the creed "staying alive is the first step to mastery," drilled his men relentlessly in evasion. Now, under this torrent of stone, they demonstrated their hard-won skills flawlessly.
And Burton himself elevated dodging into an art form. He wove through falling rocks like a butterfly flitting through flowers, humming a bizarre tune: "Left three, right four, spin and rise—"
What should have been a deadly fight became a festive dance under his lead. The infectious rhythm nearly tripped up Xize, who thought, *At this rate, the falcons will run out of feathers before this madman stops dancing.*
Such mockery enraged the proud beasts. Exchanging a sharp glance, the two falcons shifted tactics. The scattered rock shower coalesced into two concentrated beams of solidified stone, homing in on Xize and Burton alone.
When Xize realized the falcons had abandoned all other targets to focus on them, he wanted to scream at the sky—*Burton's the one turning a lethal fight into a square dance! Why am I getting dragged into this?*
"Uncle Hugh!" the boy yelled, tumbling awkwardly between projectiles. "What now?!"
"Keep dodging." Hugh, who had initially tensed, now relaxed, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You can even evade single-target locking spells?"
Xize's mind raced with unspoken curses, but he forced himself to concentrate under the intensifying assault.
Burton, however, wasn't faring as well. After deflecting a massive boulder, his face flushed red. "Commander, save me!"
"Left three, right four, spin and rise—!" the warriors chanted in unison, throwing Burton's earlier taunt back at him.
"Damn it! This is a tracking spell!" Burton barked, blocking frantically. His eyes widened when he noticed Xize still nimbly avoiding attacks. He knew better than anyone how relentless locking magic was—how was this boy managing it?
"The young master is a heaven-sent prodigy—how could we ordinary men compare?" Burton cried out between flattering and genuine panic. "Commander! People are going to die here!"
Amid the roaring laughter, Hugh rose with an amused smile, ready to end the farce. But then, the falcons abruptly halted their assault.
A warning scream echoed in Xize's mind. He looked up and froze.
The two raptors circled violently above the mountain peak, their piercing shrieks painful to the ears. Their magnificent feathers had completely shed, replaced by a terrifying power gathering from the very air around them.
Guided by the Rock Falcons, bursts of yellow light flickered across the sky like shattering stars, each flash accompanied by massive boulders materializing out of thin air, blotting out the heavens. What sent chills down one's spine was how these colossal stones devoured one another, merging into something even more immense.
Have you ever witnessed the sky collapsing?
When the entire firmament was replaced by a mountain range, Xize's vision plunged into darkness. Towering above him, the mountainous mass was still surrounded by dozens of unmerged boulders, each as large as a fortress. As the mountain slowly descended, its form condensed mid-fall, shrinking to half its original size in the blink of an eye. Yet the dark yellow glow swirling across its surface made every hair on Xize's body stand on end.
An invisible shackle had already pinned him in place. He suddenly realized—this must be the magical lock Bolt had mentioned. Thanks to his unique constitution, he had always been able to shake off single-target spells—a trait that reminded him of the ever-persistent Claude. But the locking sensation now was so overwhelming, clearly this spell's tier far surpassed his resistance. Even the sturdiest shield could be pierced eventually.
Staring at the still-compressing mountain in the sky, Xize found it utterly absurd. Had these feathered beasts abandoned all dignity of magical creatures to unleash a life-or-death strike?
Weren't magical beasts supposed to be highly intelligent? He'd like to see who would take responsibility for that claim. What human warrior would fight like these two Rock Falcons, shedding even their feathers in the process?
The onlookers' knees had already gone weak. The pressure from this spell—cast by the two Rock Falcons burning through their magic crystal reserves—made everyone feel as if they'd been plunged into an icy abyss. This was suppression on the level of life itself.
When quantity transformed into quality, and two sixth-tier magical beasts unleashed a strike bordering on a forbidden spell, the reality of it made Hugh's pupils contract sharply. His usual flippant expression vanished. The stone slabs cracked beneath his forceful stomp as he shot toward Xize like an arrow loosed from its bow.