Winter moved before anyone else even understood what was happening. One moment she was kneeling beside the wounded, trying to catch her breath, and the next she stood tall with her sickles drawn, staring down the last wave of beasts that pushed through the trees.
The ground trembled as the main pack tore into the clearing. Their bodies were bigger than horses, their hides covered in dark, writhing fur that steamed with heat. Red lines pulsed under their skin, glowing faintly like burning veins. They growled deep in their throats and snapped their long jaws as they rushed forward.
Summer and Bux tried to stand, but their legs shook. They had spent too much power. Too much mana. Too much blood. The battle had drained them dry. Their hands trembled just from holding their own weapons. They looked completely done.
Eric, lying against a broken tree trunk, couldn't even lift himself properly. His body was still adjusting to the soul weapon fusion he'd experienced moments ago. Every muscle felt like it was filled with lead and fire at the same time. His vision swam. His breath came in uneven pulls. And the bitter truth was obvious:
Only Winter could still move like a fighter.
She knew it too.
"Stay back," she said softly. "I'll handle this."
Summer almost laughed. "Handle? Winter, those aren't normal beasts. Those are the main beasts. The first one was just a puppet as you know."
"You're tired," she cut in sharply. "Don't pretend you aren't. And Bux is one swing away from passing out."
She wasn't wrong. Bux grunted just from turning his head.
Winter stepped forward.
Eric watched her walk like someone born for battle. Not out of pride. Not out of show. But because when she fought, she fought with her whole being, with the kind of calm that scared even the monsters.
Her pale hair floated around her face like white smoke. Her eyes glowed faintly red. The air around her shimmered with heat, bending the light in faint waves.
The beasts charged.
Winter raised her sickles, crossed them over her chest, and drew a long breath.
The first hound leaped. It opened its jaws wide, showing rows of crooked, blood-stained teeth that could pull a man apart in seconds.
Winter moved.
The sickles flashed in a clean arc. A bright red curve trailed behind the blades as they sliced through the beast mid-air. The body hit the ground in two pieces before it even understood it had died.
But the rest didn't slow down.
The second beast lunged from the side. The third dashed low, claws scraping into the dirt. The fourth jumped high for her head.
Winter slammed her heel into the ground.
A burst of fire erupted around her like an exploding sun.
Eric felt the heat hit his face from meters away. The shockwave rolled over the clearing and blew dust into the air.
When the flames faded, the beasts were scattered, rolling across the ground with their fur smoking and skin bubbling.
But they were stubborn monsters. Even with steam rising from their bodies, they stood again, shaking violently, drooling hot saliva that sizzled when it touched the grass.
Winter lowered her stance.
"What are you doing?" Summer yelled hoarsely. "Don't push yourself that far!"
She didn't respond. Her gaze stayed locked on the pack.
She spun her sickles slowly, letting the short chains between them clink against each other. The sound echoed like metal tapping metal in a quiet workshop.
Her breathing changed. Steady. Slow. Controlled. Like she was warming the mana inside her body.
Eric felt the change immediately. The air thinned. The temperature spiked. Even the beasts started shifting nervously.
Winter didn't care.
She ran straight at them.
The second beast tried to snap at her leg, but she twisted mid-step, planted her foot on its head, and vaulted herself upward. She flipped once, her hair trailing behind her like a streak of white fire, and came down with both blades crossed.
They hit the beast's spine.
It collapsed instantly.
The third beast lunged at her from behind, claws stretched wide.
Winter didn't even look. She flung a sickle backward. It spun like a burning wheel, dragging a streak of flame in the air. It dug straight into the beast's skull with a loud crack, embedding so deep that its body fell limp before it touched the ground.
She yanked the chain, and the blade ripped out with a wet pop, returning to her hand like a loyal pet. Blood sprayed in a high arc, turning into steam before hitting the dirt.
"Damn," Summer whispered. "She's fighting like she's alone in the world."
And she really was. Eric watched her with a strange mixture of fear and awe. Her body moved like she was flowing, not fighting. Every step, every turn, every slash felt like part of a dance she knew by heart.
She spun again, dragging one sickle against the ground. Sparks flew from the metal.
Then she leaped.
Fire erupted from her soles and pushed her forward like a rocket. She shot through the clearing and slammed both sickles into the chest of the largest beast, the one who seemed to be the alpha.
The ground cracked.
The beast roared so loud the trees shook. It whipped its head forward and tried to bite her, but Winter held tight, her feet planted on its chest as she pressed the blades deeper.
Still, the alpha didn't fall.
It buckled and groaned but stayed alive, thrashing wildly.
Winter clenched her jaw. Her arms trembled. Sweat dripped down her forehead. She was strong, but even she was near her limit.
Eric wanted to move. Even an inch. Even a crawl. He wanted to do something. Anything. But his muscles refused to obey. His body felt like empty clay.
"Come on…" he whispered. "Get up… move…"
Nothing.
The alpha swung its body to the side and slammed Winter against a tree. Bark exploded around her. She gasped, and for a second, she looked genuinely hurt.
"That's it," she whispered through clenched teeth. "Fine."
She stepped away from the beast.
And then her entire body ignited.
It wasn't a normal flame. It was white. Bright. Blinding. Pure. It didn't burn her clothes or her skin — it wrapped around her like a cloak.
Winter raised both sickles.
The flames stretched along the blades until they glowed white-red, bending the air like a mirage.
She whispered something only the wind heard.
Then she charged.
The alpha leaped too. They collided mid-air in a burst of light so bright Eric had to shut his eyes. Heat washed over him like he was sitting beside a furnace.
When the light faded…
The alpha's head fell to the ground.
Then its body followed.
A long silence settled over the clearing. Even the smaller beasts froze, sensing the death of their leader.
Winter stepped over its corpse, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her flames flickered out slowly. Her legs shook. She leaned on one sickle for support.
The last two beasts tried to run.
Winter lifted her hand.
A thin line of fire shot forward, so fast it whistled. It cut through both beasts like a hot knife through wax.
They collapsed without a sound.
It was over.
'Finally, it was over.'
Winter fell to her knees.
Summer and Bux didn't even cheer. They simply sagged in relief. The exhaustion in all of them was too heavy for shouting or smiling. They looked at her like she had just saved their world — because she had.
Eric exhaled slowly.
"That was…" he whispered. "Unbelievable…"
His vision blurred again. He blinked it away. Winter turned her head toward him, her expression unreadable, but her eyes softened for a moment. Only a moment.
Then her face hardened again.
"Summer," she said weakly. "Get him. We're taking him to the Guild."
Eric's heart skipped. Not that he didn't know he was going to be taken there already. Just the realization sent him jittery again.
"What— what do you mean get me?"
She didn't respond.
Summer and Bux exchanged glances. Even tired, their expressions tightened. Like they knew something he didn't. Something important.
Bux stepped forward first.
"Don't worry," he said. "The Guild will… figure out what you are."
"What I… am?" Eric whispered.
"That system of yours," Summer added, rubbing his neck. "It's not normal. It rejected Winter's inspection. Nobody rejects an A-rank mage's inspection."
Eric's stomach knotted.
"I'm not going with you," he said. He tried to stand.
His legs buckled. He dropped to one knee.
Winter sighed. "Don't make this harder."
"H-harder? You want to drag me somewhere I don't understand— how is that—"
A loud crack echoed behind him.
A chain had wrapped around his wrist.
He stared at it, shocked.
Summer held the end of the chain, his face serious for once.
"Please don't fight," the young mage said quietly. "The Guild won't kill you. They'll just… study you."
"Study me?"
Eric's heartbeat quickened.
Winter stood again, still trembling from the fight. She walked slowly toward him, her eyes locked on his.
"You're an anomaly. You shouldn't exist. And the Guild won't ignore that."
Eric backed away instinctively, only for another chain to snap around his other wrist.
"No— wait— hold on—"
Winter raised her hand.
Her sickle glowed faintly.
Eric froze. Not physically but mentally. Her expression made his blood run cold.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't cruel.
She was resolved.
"Eric," she said softly, "I'm sorry. But you're coming with us."
He opened his mouth to shout, protest, beg.
But he was lifted high in the air with a swift yank, and once again balanced on the broad shoulders of Summer.
The odd feeling felt really annoying...