The night sky was shifting, its stars fading as dawn crept closer.Eren leapt to the side just as the lion-shaped beast slashed its massive claws at him, tearing through the earth and reshaping the battlefield beneath its fury.
If this keeps up, I'll be finished before he even lifts a paw to harm her
Eren's thoughts raced as he scanned the clearing, his eyes darting through the chaos of the battlefield—until he spotted it.There, faintly glowing in the low light, lay the hilt of a broken sword… near the beast's leg.
As the creature lunged again with a sweeping claw, Eren rolled aside and cast a quick glance toward the maiden, who stood frozen in panic, unsure what to do.
"Pass me the hilt!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, gesturing urgently toward the glinting object half-buried in dirt.
"I'll draw its attention!"
Without waiting for a reply, Eren charged toward the flank. The beast, sensing the threat, shifted its focus entirely to him, pulling itself farther from the sword—unaware of the silent plan taking shape between the two humans.
The maiden rushed toward the hilt, snatching it from the ground. She hesitated only for a heartbeat, eyes flicking to Eren, waiting for his next command.
It came moments later, loud and clear.
"Throw it!" he roared from across the battlefield.
Without hesitation, she hurled the hilt high into the air.
The broken sword—still bearing half its jagged blade—spun end over end, arcing above the beast's head. The beast tried to follow its path, massive eyes narrowing as it twisted to track the movement.
But Eren was faster.
With a burst of motion and raw strength, he launched himself off the ground, body twisting mid-air as he reached for the tumbling weapon.
He caught it.
A split second later, the beast's paw came hurtling up.
Eren gritted his teeth. The beast's instincts screamed, but too late.
Lesser Wyvern Sword Arts: First Form.
With a desperate roar, he swung the half-broken blade with all his force, his body tense, the sword art barely under control. The beast's paw rushed towards him, as it's instincts flared—
But it was already too late.
The broken sword struck.
Energy rippled.
A shockwave exploded from the point of impact, hurling Eren backward as dust and debris surged into the air—along with something else.
Blood.
Eren's body crashed into a nearby tree with a heavy thud, bark splintering under the force. The trunk caught him, leaving a crater where he'd landed—but he stayed conscious.
Meanwhile, the hand Eren had used to wield the sword—now hung limp at his side, refusing to respond even as he tried to lift it.
His eyes shifted toward the fractured ground where the clash had taken place. The dust began to settle.
And through it, the beast emerged—still standing, towering.
But it hadn't escaped unscathed.
Its entire right foreleg, from paw to shoulder, had been blown apart.
Chunks of flesh and shattered bone littered the battlefield. Blood soaked the earth. The beast's face twisted in a mix of pain, rage… and something close to desperation.
It stared at Eren for a long moment—silent, breath heaving—as if weighing its chances.
Eren, barely upright, met its gaze.
Then the beast's eyes flicked toward the maiden—still clutching the remaining half of the broken sword.
It hesitated.
Then, to the disbelief of both humans it turned. And—retreated.
Slowly, heavily, it began limping toward the deeper parts of the jungle.
Not fast. Not slow. Just far enough that neither of them could follow
Eren stared at the retreating beast in stunned dismay, mouth slightly agape—not just from the shock, but from the pain throbbing in his back and arm.
Relief warred with exhaustion.
The maiden's gaze lingered on the beast's fading silhouette—then something clicked in her mind. She rushed to Eren's side, armor plates over her chest falling apart with each hurried step.
She didn't care.
Eren barely managed to stay upright when she reached him.
"Are you alright?" she asked, gently slipping one arm around his waist, hoisting one of his shoulders over hers.
He exhaled deeply, surveying the ruined battlefield. Then, as if weighing something, he gave a faint nod.
"Yeah... I'm alright. But I think we should find somewhere safer first," he murmured, motioning weakly in the direction he'd come from.
"There's a lake not far from here," he added, between ragged breaths. "We should head there."
With quiet determination, the girl supported him, the two of them moving together—wounded but alive.
The air around them lay calm—eerily quiet. As if the battle from moments ago had been nothing more than a fading flicker in their memories. But the torn earth, scattered debris, and dried blood etched into the soil told a different story.
The two walked slowly—one limping, the other supporting—as they reached the lake. The moonlight, nearly overtaken by dawn, resurfaced on the water, casting it in a soft, silvery glow.
The maiden gently laid Eren down by the lakeside. Then, without a word, she began removing the remnants of her broken armor—whatever was still clinging to her form.
Eren looked at her—half in awe, half in a haze of pain and exhaustion.
"Those breasts," he muttered, barely aware of what he was saying.
The words slipping out like a thought that hadn't been meant to be voiced.
He expected silence. Maybe a scoff. A slap. Anything.
Instead, the woman paused. Turned slightly toward him. Her voice came calm—measured, but firm.
"I'm Velira," she said, unbothered. "You can call me whatever you want."
She stepped closer to the lake, her eyes watching the surface with distant thought, fingers working at the straps of her tattered pants. Then, without turning around, she added,
"And these?"—her hands lifted her chest slightly with a soft, deliberate motion—"I was born with them. You can say whatever you like. Insult, mockery, disgust... it makes no difference to me."
Velira glared at the boy—then beyond him, toward the distance. Like someone who'd already endured a lifetime of bias because of her body.
Eren flinched, raising his hands in defense. "No, no—I didn't mean it in a bad way."He paused, reconsidering his words. "In fact... I really like it."
The air turned cold and still as he glanced at Velira—calm now, but unreadable—as she slowly turned to face him.
Her eyes held no anger. Just disappointment.
"You know," she said tightly, "the only thing I hate more than prejudice... is false flattery. I despise it."
Her eyes sharpened on him, but Eren rushed to deny the implication.
"No, not at all. Unlike those ungrateful, demeaning thugs... I, for one, admire the fullness of curves."He shaped the words carefully—though nothing about them sounded gentlemanly.
Velira arched a brow, deep and doubtful. She clearly wasn't buying it.
Then, as her gaze lingered on him, a thought flickered—swift and wicked—through her mind.
"Is that so?" she said, straightening up as she lifted her bra—then peeled back the tightly wrapped sarashi beneath it.
A smirk curled across her lips as she stepped toward Eren, slow and deliberate.
"Then pull down your pants."