As we ventured deeper into the Wasteland, the wind howled faintly across the barren land, brushing cold against our faces. The dry scent of dust and decay filled the air. Krent began to recount the story of his and Kylon's last quest, his tone calm yet carrying a quiet heaviness. "The quest was issued directly by the Guild," he began, his eyes fixed on the endless stretch of cracked earth ahead. "A rescue mission. A C-rank party had gone missing, and we were sent to bring them back—if they were still alive."
Master's brows rose slightly, his instincts sharpening at those words. "If they were alive?"
Krent gave a slow nod. "Yeah. They'd been missing for three days. The Guild wasn't sure whether they were alive or dead. But since their signal hadn't completely faded, there was still hope—so we went in."
I glanced toward him, curiosity piqued. "How did the Guild even know something happened?"
Krent turned to me, his expression grave. "Every registered adventurer carries a special artifact—single-use items that send distress signals directly to the Guild. The missing team used theirs. That's how the alert reached us."
Just then, Kylon stopped abruptly. He placed his pack on the ground and knelt, rummaging through it until he pulled out a small, metallic blue box that shimmered under the light. Holding it out to me, he said, "This is what we call a Signal Box. It's the artifact used for emergency signals. It works only once—but that single use can be the difference between life and death."
I took the box carefully, feeling its weight. Despite its compact size, it somehow felt heavier—perhaps because of what it represented: survival and desperation intertwined in one fragile tool.
Suddenly, Kylon's eyes narrowed. His gaze swept across the surroundings, sharp and alert.
"Agious," he muttered. "Did you feel that?" Master paused, his posture stiffening. "Yeah… Everyone, get equipped. Now."
In an instant, we switched to battle readiness. Master didn't need to equip anything—his enchanted gear was part of him, always prepared. My own cloak was already active, its embedded runes humming faintly with defensive magic. It was light yet capable of enduring a beast's claws.
Kylon, meanwhile, reached into his pack and pulled out a metallic chest plate along with two gleaming, rune-engraved gauntlets. His movements were smooth, practiced from years of combat experience.
I tilted my head, intrigued. "Is that really enough armor?" He grinned, flashing that confident S-rank smile. "Don't underestimate this. It's a master-forged S-rank item. Doesn't look like much, but the enchantments are dense enough to block blades, fire, or even impact from a warhammer. Scratches won't even reach me."
Then, with an amused smirk, he drew his sword and handed it to me. "Here. Try it. Swing at me—anywhere not covered by armor."
I blinked, uncertain. "You serious?"
"Go on. I'll stop you if it hurts."
I took a steady breath, then swung toward his unarmored forearm—not too hard, but firmly enough to test the claim.
Clang!
The blade stopped midair, as if striking an invisible wall. The vibration reverberated down my arm. My eyes widened. "Told you," Kylon said with a wink. "It generates a barrier field—a thin, invisible layer of force around me. It's why veterans pour everything into good gear. Out here, even one mistake… can kill you."
Master chuckled under his breath but his eyes stayed sharp, scanning the horizon. "Don't get too comfortable. That mana fluctuation wasn't natural. Beasts shouldn't be this close to the safe zones."
Krent quietly adjusted his armor—the same one he wore during our last battle together, though freshly repaired and gleaming in the daylight. Kylon retrieved his sword from me, twirling it once before pointing it toward a nearby tree. Without a word, Krent followed his lead, unsheathing his long sword.
Kylon cracked his knuckles, mischief flickering in his grin. "Well then… looks like playtime's here."
In perfect synchronization, the two charged. Their footsteps were light yet powerful, slicing across the ground like wind. Kylon's blade cleaved clean through a tall tree, sending it crashing down with a deafening thud.
But from behind the falling trunk, a creature emerged—a sleek, muscular beast, about their size, eyes glowing molten orange. It moved toward all four of us, and before krent could even react, it opened its jaws, a swirl of flame forming deep inside.
The fireball shot forward—but Krent was faster. In a blur, his sword flashed, severing the beast in two before the fire could even ignite. The halves fell apart mid-leap, blood hissing on the dry soil.
Then came the rumble. Dozens more beasts crawled from the shadows, their claws scraping the ground, mouths glowing with smoldering heat. They had been watching, waiting for the first strike.
One lunged straight at me, a trail of fire trailing behind. My instincts flared—I summoned two jagged Ice Spikes, my mana condensing on instinct. One collided midair with the fireball, the explosion sending waves of heat and frost outward. The second Ice Spike pierced the beast through the chest, splitting it clean down the middle.
Kylon and Krent rushed forward, blades singing through the battlefield. Their movements were seamless—Kylon's sword strikes were swift and fluid, while Krent's heavy arcs cleaved through everything in range. Within moments, the field fell silent again, the ground littered with corpses of D-rank beasts.
Kylon wiped his sword clean, his brow furrowed. "Those were D-ranks. What the hell are they doing this close to the outer region?"
Master's expression darkened. "That's what worries me. They never move this far in packs—not unless something's driving them."
Then a familiar voice whispered in my mind—Aur. "Papa… there's something else nearby. I can feel a strong mana surge—not too far, but it's big." I gave a subtle nod, acknowledging silently, my senses already stretching outward to confirm the reading. A thunderous boom suddenly tore through the quiet.
BOOM!
The ground trembled violently beneath our feet. A dark column of smoke rose in the distance, twisting upward like a serpent. Heat and the acrid scent of burnt earth rolled toward us a moment later.
Kylon and Krent spun instantly toward the explosion's source, every muscle tense. "Let's check it out," Krent said, tightening his grip on his sword. Without another word, we began moving—toward the smoke, toward whatever awaited us beyond the next rise of the Wasteland.