The weather was warm, and leaves were falling from the trees that filled the vast forests, as if trying to escape to discover another place within this wilderness. But in one area, the trees weren't standing tall—or standing at all. Many had fallen to the ground haphazardly. It was a damp area with a fast-flowing stream, and not far from this chaotic place, there was a nest.
A nest made of logs and rocks, where a large number of crimson wyverns were sleeping quietly. Near the nest, pools of blood and scattered corpses—adventurers and dryads—could be seen. No one had disturbed them, so they remained asleep for a long time, in peace and without movement. The only sounds were the running water of the stream and the occasional breath from the creatures.
"Eight... It's impossible to defeat them," Ponier whispered, staring at the nest and the area around it.
"Then should we lure one of them out?" Nhor whispered back.
Away from the nest, Ponier and a group of dryad warriors were keeping watch, surveying the area. They kept examining the surroundings, looking for any weakness that would allow them to lure just one wyvern out—but to the yellow-eyed foxen, it seemed impossible. He kept observing the nest silently.
Still, he kept thinking. He was clearly taking this mission seriously. A Bronze-ranked adventurer choosing to help a village from wyvern attacks was a rare occurrence—not only in Yarum, but in the whole world. Courage like that was possessed by only a few. After some time of staring, Ponier found nothing, so he stepped back with a heavy sigh and muttered: "It's impossible to lure out just one."
"Then the only way to defeat them is to kill them all at once?" one of the men asked.
"Yes..." the foxen murmured.
"We'll stay here and wait for just one to wake up. Then we'll lure it out with bait. If it sees our numbers, it will wake the others," said Nhor, his eyes fixed on the sleeping wyverns.
As soon as Nhor finished his sentence, they heard the wyverns' voices—more like childish growls. They quickly retreated. Luckily, only one woke up, just as they had hoped. As if the gods had listened to their request, it stepped away from the others and walked on its two legs toward the stream, then started drinking water.
"What do we do?" one of the dryads whispered very softly.
"We need bait..."
"I'll go!" Ponier whispered as he drew his two short swords.
"Really?... Then we're counting on you. Just lead it forward, and we'll be waiting," Nhor whispered, retreating with the rest of the group.
A long moment passed, and finally the foxen revealed himself from behind a rock. He approached the wyvern with an incredibly intimidating look. The wyvern lifted its head from the water and turned to its left, spotting him standing with his two swords. Immediately, Ponier started running fast, and the wyvern quickly realized that this foxen was nothing more than an easy prey. It spread its wings and took off, flying after him.
Ponier ran at full speed, dodging the trees in his path. Meanwhile, the wyvern flew rapidly above the treetops. Although it couldn't see its prey clearly, it kept chasing him. Ponier found this strange, so he stopped running to observe the wyvern's reaction. In that moment, the sound of wings flapping above the trees suddenly disappeared, and a heavy silence took over.
Ponier stood still, unsure whether to keep running or do something else. Suddenly, the wyvern dived at him with incredible speed. But Ponier managed to dodge at the last second, stepped back, and resumed running. The wyvern flew up again and resumed its pursuit from above.
"If you're close, shout 'Yes'!!" Ponier yelled as he ran with everything he had.
"Yes!!!" a group of men shouted—it seemed he was close.
After a while, he finally arrived. The place was an open clearing, free of trees—perfect for battle. The dryads stood there, led by Nhor with his long spear. Ponier reached them, panting from exhaustion. That's when they all noticed the wyvern above them, circling in the air, its shadow dancing across the ground. They stood there—afraid, excited, hesitant, and ready.
The wyvern slowed its flight, staring at them with terrifying eyes. Suddenly, some of the dryads started firing arrows, but none hit. So the wyvern decided to descend, swooping down like an eagle with its sharp claws aimed at one of them. But they managed to dodge the attack, and it flew back into the air.
"Fotsios!!" Ponier shouted, pointing at the wyvern flying chaotically above.
At that moment, a massive fireball surged forward—far larger than any Ponier had cast before. It was clear he had trained on this spell for months. It flew much faster than the previous ones. In short, this time, the Fotsios spell was unlike any other. The wyvern dodged it, but it still managed to burn part of its left wing.
The wyvern staggered slightly but quickly regained its balance. It glared at Ponier with terrifying eyes. Then it opened its mouth wide, and flames began to form—shaping into a ball almost identical to Ponier's spell. Once it finished gathering the fire, it launched it at him, and the difference between the two was clear: speed.
"My god, it's insanely fast!!!" Ponier shouted as he leapt to the left to dodge the fireball.
When it hit the ground, a massive explosion occurred, sending a thick black cloud of smoke into the air—so thick that it blocked the wyvern's vision of the foxen. Suddenly, a large number of arrows flew toward it while it was flying and searching for Ponier. This time, they hit their mark. Some arrows pierced its tough scales, making it scream and fly around in a frenzy.
"Amazing! How did you pierce a wyvern's scales?" Ponier asked, staring up at the raging creature.
"They're enchanted arrows. Credit goes to the leader," Nhor replied as he prepared another arrow to shoot.
"Come on, soldiers! This is one of the monsters that killed our families. We will show no mercy!!" one of the warriors shouted, pointing his sword at the wyvern.
After that short exchange, the wyvern descended again—this time with its mouth wide open. In a terrifying display, it managed to grab one of the dryads with its speed and agility. Thankfully, the wyvern was relatively small—slightly larger than the tigeron Ponier and Laos had faced. It could only wound its prey, but that was bad enough. The bite was powerful and dropped the man to the ground, bleeding.
"Get the potions, now!!!" Nhor shouted, holding his friend, who was losing a large amount of blood.
At that moment, the wyvern realized it had disrupted the enemy's formation, so it tried to unleash another fireball. Fire gathered in its mouth just like before. Ponier and a few other dryads noticed in time, but most were distracted by their fallen comrade and their commander, who was holding him. The fireball was headed straight for Nhor and the injured one—it seemed the wyvern had found the perfect target. It was so confident that it dropped its guard, unaware that...
"Water Slash."
As everyone was frozen in shock at the approaching fireball, a strong male voice was heard. In that moment, a massive water slash surged forward at lightning speed, erasing the terrifying fireball as if it were just air. But it didn't stop there—it kept going and landed a devastating blow on the wyvern, throwing it off balance. And all of this happened in just one second.
The wyvern couldn't fly any higher and crashed to the ground with force. It began flailing around, trying to take off again, but then—before everyone's ears—came that same voice from earlier, this time saying another phrase: "Ground Wave."
A massive wave of water surged from below, rushing toward the fallen wyvern, running across the ground. Rocks shot into the air as the wave collided with them, along with droplets of water. It was a wave you'd expect to see at sea—but here it was, racing across the land. After a moment, it slammed into the wyvern, making it spew a huge amount of blood.
Everyone stood in shock at the powerful spells being cast one after another on the wyvern. Suddenly, a human youth stepped forward—his white hair slightly long, reaching his neck. His eyes gleamed green, and his white cloak fluttered behind him. We can't forget his short sword with a blue blade and a gem that sparkled from afar. He walked toward the dying wyvern and stabbed it hard in the heart.
"Easy," he muttered as he drove the sword deeper into the wyvern, which continued coughing up blood.
After that, the wyvern died and didn't move again. The young man pulled his sword from its heart and stared at the dryads and foxen, who were frozen, eyes locked on him. He sheathed his sword and walked toward them, leaving the wyvern's corpse behind. His appearance made him seem like someone who slays wyverns daily, not a low-ranked adventurer.
"Laos!" Ponier called out as he approached.
"Sir Laos… we truly thank you!!!" Nhor shouted, eyes fixed on Laos and his white hair.
"Luckily, the wyvern got so focused on us that it didn't expect anyone else to step in…" one of the dryads mumbled.
They treated their friend's wounds with bandages and potions before heading back toward the village. In that moment, Laos looked incredible. He didn't smile—his face stayed stern and sharp, like a battle-hardened adventurer used to killing wyverns. Nearby, the dryads were thrilled by his timely intervention. And Laos... he was extremely happy too, because, according to him, he looked pretty tough right now.
"You're super late," Ponier muttered.
"I didn't feel like waking up early," Laos replied.
"We couldn't hold out much longer, so we decided to at least take one down."
"Then I killed it," Laos whispered coolly.
"You're acting weird… and it was just a lucky hit. Let's see how you do in the next fights."
"You got it, but let's head back first—I'm starving."
God, I look tuff in every sense of the word. This is amazing. I popped out of nowhere and killed a wyvern in two hits. I bet they think I'm some legendary adventurer. What an entrance—I'll never forget this. One of my great achievements during the aura farming arc. Alright, I need to stay serious and only give out light smiles.
After a while, we reached Bloomy. The place was calm as always, with a few dryads loitering outside. As soon as people saw the wounded dryad, everyone rushed toward us. Among them was the beauty, Rose. Aaaghhh—when will someone tell her I'm the one who killed the wyvern?! She hurried over and cast a healing spell on the wounded dryad. It was the same amazing midspell she'd once used on me.
"What happened?" Rose asked with concern.
Then I suddenly felt a huge hand slap my back and shove me forward—it was so strong I actually felt a burst of hope. Then I heard a loud laugh echoing through the village. It was Nhor. As I found myself standing right next to Rose, he declared: "Laos killed the wyvern in two hits!"
Hell yeah, that's amazing! Thank you, Nhor—I won't forget this help. Rose looked up and locked eyes with me. Damn, I'm feeling that usual anxiety again. What do I do? This is a major moment in my aura farming. I started panicking and turned away just to break eye contact. Then I looked at Nhor and said humbly: "Come on, it was just a coincidence. Don't say it like that."
Fuck! Does humility belong in aura farming? I feel like I made a huge mistake. But if I say it was easy—and it really was just luck—how will I fare in future fights with wyverns? If they think I'm powerful, that'll be a fucking big problem. Then, suddenly, Rose spoke while the dryads laughed at my humble reply.
"Will you continue helping us?"
"Of course. That's our goal for now," I answered.
She clasped her hands to her chest and looked up at the sky. But all there was above were dense trees, blocking out the blue sky. Still, she kept staring until, suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes and she smiled broadly—like we had wiped out all the wyverns, not just one.
"Father... the savior has emerged."
Then everyone started shouting, huge smiles on their faces. Even the people who had just been watching. Everyone shouted in unison: "The savior has emerged!" At that moment, I felt… something strange. How can I explain it? I felt like I'd just been given a title I didn't deserve… no, not didn't deserve—one I couldn't handle. Or maybe… wasn't suited for. What the fuck is going on?
◆ ◆ ◆
In a quiet area inside the Yavan Forests, the morning light had spread across the land. Among the trees, a few figures moved—three people, clearly adventurers. They walked under the shadows of the trees, chatting as their footsteps crunched the ground. A human with an iron spear, a short catfolk, and a dwarf with a long beard. Another typical adventurer party.
"This'll be a great adventure!" the catfolk said excitedly.
"Damn it, but you woke me up this early," the dwarf muttered with a harsh look, rubbing his eyes.
"Come on, waking up early is worth it. Clawsin guild hasn't achieved anything in Yavan Forests yet, so it's time we make a name for ourselves here—and take down the first boss!" the human spearman said with energy, just like the catfolk and unlike the dwarf.
"The mushroom champion… that's gonna be really hard," the dwarf muttered.
"Not at all—just fight with everything you've got. And don't you dare freeze up like you always do, you cowardly little dwarf," the human snapped.
"What did you say, you girly-looking human?!" the dwarf suddenly yelled, lunging at the spearman.
"Calm down! This isn't the time for fighting. You haven't even reached the part where you divide the loot," a cold voice called out from above.
The group all looked up—and after a moment, they spotted the source of the voice. A masked figure sat on a tree trunk overhead. He removed his mask, revealing the face of a foxen with sharp yellow eyes, a few facial scars, upright ears, and a tail flicking rapidly behind him. His gaze was so intense it sent a chill down the party's spines.
"Who are you?!" the spearman asked suddenly.
"An assistant," the foxen whispered, leaping down to land directly in front of them.
"Assist with what?" the dwarf asked.
"With ending your suffering."
In that instant, the foxen rushed forward and sliced off the dwarf's head with a short sword. He didn't give the others a chance to react. With another short sword, he stabbed the short catfolk in the head and dropped him into his own blood. The human managed to grab his spear—but not in time to fight back. In a flash, the foxen stabbed him through the heart. His face went pale like his comrades' as he looked into the foxen's eyes—until the last breath left his body.
"The Dark Eye has emerged."
Ponier Earnard.