Chapter 16: Mountain Slayer

The village felt alive under the moonlight.

Kael, Abel, and the fairy hidden in his cowl moved carefully along the western edge of the village, sticking to the shadows. The scent of damp earth and distant woodsmoke filled the air as they crept behind an old storage shed, where barrels and crates were stacked haphazardly. Abel suddenly grabbed Kael's arm and yanked him down behind cover.

A moment later, soft footsteps crunched against the dirt.

Kael peeked through a gap between the barrels. Three figures stood near the second plot, one of them dusting off his pants as he pushed himself to his feet. Even in the dim light, the man's gaunt face and tangled hair made him stand out.

"There's our poison mage," Abel whispered, pointing.

Kael narrowed his eyes. "And two more with him."

"We should wait," Abel murmured, "Who knows what else they're gonna do, they're probably getting restless and agitated as we speak."

Kael nodded, though impatience gnawed at him. The last thing he wanted was to sit back and watch bandits walk around with no care in the world and endanger innocent lives."Hey, Abel… I don't think I ever told you, but I'm not good with bandits," Kael admitted, voice low.

Abel's expression shifted slightly. "Yeah, I've heard. Boss 1 and 2 told me." His tone was careful. "Your childhood village was raided. Your parents were killed."

"Yeah, so it's extremely hard to not charge at them right now." Kael's dark brown eyes glowed gold for a split second, they had the feeling of a predator stalking it's prey. His target was none other than the poison mage, a tall man with a gaunt face and long, tangled hair.

Abel tensed, recognizing the danger in Kael's posture. But before he could say anything, tiny hands pinched Kael's cheeks-hard.

Kael nearly yelped, but Abel clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Ah-thank you, little buddy," Kael muttered, regaining his focus as the fairy released him. His body relaxed, the momentary gold glow in his eyes had disappeared, the usual warmth in them returned.

Abel let out a slow breath. "You even scared me for a second there. You need to be more careful, can't let your emotions get the better of you."

Kael exhaled. "You're right. It won't happen again."

Abel glanced back at the bandits. "They're moving. Let's go."

... 

Far from where Kael was, in a remote village untouched by the night's growing tensions, a towering woman strode through the empty streets.

She stood at an imposing 253 centimeters, her presence undeniable. Long Van Dyke brown hair, textured and wild, cascaded down her back, streaked with strands of gray that only added to her rugged allure. Thick braids ran down her spine, woven like vines rooted deep in the earth. Though faint wrinkles touched the edges of her sharp features, they did little to betray her age-she looked no older than 44.

Her cut-off dark brown leather top left her powerful arms exposed, marked with the scars of countless hunts. Fur-lined accents traced her shoulders and collar, remnants of beasts she had conquered. A silver pauldron rested on her right shoulder, a single spike protruding from its surface-both a warning and a shield. Thick black leather cuffs wrapped around her forearms, well-worn from years of battle.

Around her neck hung a necklace of fangs, each one a trophy, a memory of a hunt that had ended in her favor. Her light brown cloth leggings and fur-lined boots were practical, built for endurance rather than comfort.

She walked with purpose, her stride heavy yet deliberate as she approached the local pub. The wooden doors swung open, and she ducked slightly to step inside. As she straightened to her full height, the air in the room seemed to shift-the weight of her presence settling over the patrons like an unspoken challenge.

Silence.

The tavern's usual hum of conversation stilled. Villagers, mages, and three knights-fresh from their guard duty-paused mid-drink, their gazes flickering toward the woman who towered over them all. Some shuffled nervously. Others sat rigid, unsure of what her arrival meant.

Without a word, she walked toward the bar counter, each step slow and deliberate.

"Have you seen or heard anything about a horned direwolf passing through these parts?" the woman asked, her voice steady but firm.

The barkeep glanced up from where he was polishing a beer glass, the cloth moving in slow circles as he considered her question. A few seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"Haven't seen anything myself," he admitted. "But one of the guards mentioned spotting a large shadow a few nights ago-moving south, maybe southeast."

The woman nodded, absorbing the information. "I see. Any villages or cities close by in that direction?"

The barkeep frowned, tapping a calloused finger against the wooden counter as he tried to recall. "Hmm… not sure." He turned his head and called out, "Hey, Tommy! Any villages down south?"

One of the knights-a young man with short blonde hair-looked up from his drink, brow furrowed in thought.

"Yeah, us-uh, Silverthorn? No, wait-Sylverholt." He waved a hand dismissively, as if the details weren't important, before taking another sip of ale.

The barkeep nodded and turned back to the towering woman. "You heard the man, miss. Anything else I can get ya?"

She lifted a hand, holding up three fingers. "Three pints of your best beer, if it's possible."

"Coming right up." The barkeep nodded, before getting 3 empty glasses.

As the woman took a few sips from the first of the three beers she had ordered, the young blonde knight hesitantly walked over and sat beside her. He glanced at her massive frame before mustering the courage to ask, "Sorry for asking, but why are you looking for nearby villages? Horned direwolves are only considered A-rank because they hunt in packs. If it's alone, most mages from C-rank and above can handle it without too much trouble."

The woman threw her head back and laughed-a deep, booming sound that made the entire pub tense. She took another sip of her cold beer, then set the mug down with a dull thud on the counter. When she spoke again, her tone was firm, carrying the weight of experience.

"So you'd think. But that one, for better or worse, is most likely a special rank horned direwolf. It was smart enough to run long before the others. I only realized it had escaped after I wiped out its pack and counted the bodies. I spent two days scouring the area, but that bastard managed to lay fake tracks to throw me off. Then, when night fell, it fled completely, knowing I wouldn't be able to track it as easily."

The knight frowned. "So what, B-rank?"

The woman shook her head. "Definitely still A-rank. Sneaky little pup-but that's not the only thing that makes it special rank…" She paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to pique the knight's curiosity. Even the barkeep, who had been casually listening in, leaned a little closer. "It used magic to bind me." She finally said. "Didn't work, but still-that's not something a horned direwolf should be capable of. And when I went to take it down-because, trust me, that's a bothersome ability-it used one of its own pack as a scapegoat, making me think I got it when I hadn't, I believe that was when it ran away."

The knight blinked, processing her words. "Wait… so what actually makes a monster special rank?" He asked naively.

The woman chuckled and finished off one of her beers before answering. "Doesn't matter if it's an F-rank monster or an S-rank one-if it can use magic when it normally shouldn't, if it has an unusual variation of its natural abilities, or if it has any kind of physical mutation or abnormality, it's considered special rank."

He hesitated before adding, "If it's that dangerous, shouldn't the guild classify it as S-rank?"

The woman smirked, tapping her fingers against the rim of her second beer.

"You think the guilds slaps an S-rank on every tricky beast that shows a little magic?" She scoffed. "No, kid. Special rank doesn't mean it suddenly jumps up a tier-it just means it's unpredictable. Maybe it's stronger, maybe it just has an odd ability. Could be manageable, could be a nightmare. In this case..."

She took a slow sip, then set her mug down. "…it's just a very clever A-rank beast. But if it's not dealt with soon, it might become something worse."

The knight swallowed. "Worse?"

"Monsters adapt. They survive." Her gaze darkened. "Imagine what kind of damage smart monsters like that can cause if they find a new territory for themselves and not be limited by the natural habitat their species is used to."

The young knight paled slightly at her words. He had always thought of monsters as dangerous, sure, but predictable. They stuck to their territories, followed their instincts. The idea of one actively seeking out new hunting grounds, learning, and adapting beyond its nature… that was unsettling. "You mean… it could get worse just by moving somewhere else?" he asked, gripping his mug a little tighter.

The woman nodded, taking another sip of her beer. "Exactly. In its usual environment, a horned direwolf has to compete with other monsters, struggle for food, share with its pack, follow the rules of the wild. But if it finds a new place where those rules don't apply-somewhere with fewer predators, weaker prey, prey that has no experience or defense mechanisms against it-" she shrugged, "-who knows what it'll become?"

The knight swallowed hard. "That… sounds like a problem."

The woman let out a short chuckle. "That's why I'm here, young Timmy. To make sure it doesn't become one." She downed the rest of her beer in one long gulp, then slammed the empty mug down on the counter. "Before that thing finds a nice, cozy new home."

"Um, it's actually Tommy, not Timmy." The young knight said.

The woman blinked, then let out a hearty laugh, slapping Tommy on the back hard enough to nearly knock him forward. "Tommy, Timmy-close enough!" she said with a wide grin.

Tommy coughed, quickly straightening himself. "N-Not really…" he muttered, rubbing his shoulder.

"Well young Timmy, wanna know what else makes some special rank monsters so special?" The woman said with a grin.

Tommy hesitated, still rubbing his shoulder from her earlier slap. He wasn't sure if he liked where this was going, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Uh… sure?"

The woman leaned in slightly, her grin widening. "There is chance than when you slay them, they might drop magic stones. Those magic stones are different from the regular old magic stones you can find in caverns and deep within the earth. These ones are not only limited to elemental magic, this direwolf has binding magic that most likely chains formed from mana, others can have magic that increases your speed, strength, even create weapons out of thin air."

Tommy's eyes widened. "Wait… you're saying these monsters can drop magic stones with abilities?"

The woman nodded. "Exactly. Normal magic stones are just raw and simple, fire, water, air, earth, plants and I'm sure you understand, the magic stones from special monsters open so many doors to people."

Tommy gulped with fear in his eyes "That's scary to think about..."

The woman reassured him "Relax, those magic stones are crazy and have a huge variaty of abilities, but you can't get magics like gravity, death, time and anything crazy like that. Only contract magic with gods or devils can do something on that scale, exceeds spirits and dragons by a long shot." She realized that she needed to hurry to Sylverholt village.

She suddenly stood up, startling Tommy, she took the 2 glasses she still hadn't finished and finished them in one big gulp before saying, "I still have to get to Silverthorn or Sylverholt, or whatever it's called.

Tommy watched, wide-eyed, as the woman downed both remaining beers in one go. "It's Sylverholt," he corrected weakly.

The woman wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a satisfied sigh. "Right, that one." She adjusted the fur lining on her shoulders and cracked her neck. "No telling how far that bastard's gotten. If I waste any more time, I might be hunting a problem instead of just a monster."

Tommy hesitated before speaking. "Are you… going alone?"

The woman gave him a look, her grin sharp. "Sorry young Timmy, but adults only, can't be responisble for young kids and weaklings."

Tommy puffed up slightly, his pride stung. "I'm not a kid! And I'm not weak, either!"

The woman let out a hearty laugh, slapping him on the back again-though this time, she almost held back. "Oh? That so? Then prove it, grow up, get stronger, and maybe next time, I'll take you along."

Tommy clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up, but he couldn't exactly argue. She seemed like a seasoned hunter, a towering warrior who had likely faced threats far beyond his experience. Still… the way she dismissed him so easily made him grit his teeth.

The woman smirked down at him. "But hey, don't take it too hard, young Timmy. I was your age once too-thought I could take on the world. Maybe you'll surprise me one day."

"It's Tommy," he muttered under his breath.

With that, she turned and strode toward the exit, leaving Tommy glaring at his drink.

As soon as she left, Tommy rushed outside and yelled, "WHAT'S YOUR NAME, SO I CAN TRY- NO, I WILL FIND YOU WHEN I GET STRONGER."

The woman stopped and thought to herself, "The kid's got guts." She felt proud for a young man she had just met, "Look at me getting soft after 300 years.", she then replied. "I'm a wizard from.... Uhhhhh where was it again? Oh right, Eldoria, I'm a wizard from Eldoria, my name is Vicrona and I belong to the Second Dawn guild, but I'm often away."

"I'll remember that." Tommy said with a determined look on his face, as they waved each other goodbye.

Tommy then went back inside and one of the villagers asked him, seemingly getting nervous, "Don't think I heard her right, what's her name and the guild name again?"

"Oh, her name is Vicrona and she is from the Second Dawn guild." Tommy said with a calm face, clearly missing something, "What's wrong?"

The villager's face went pale, before he shouted " Vicrona The mountain slayer of Second Dawn, the one closest to reaching SS rank."

Everyone in the pub went completely silent, they were in the presence of someone capable of erasing the entire country if she wanted to. The one who was the most silent was with no doubt the young and naive knight, Tommy.

Tommy sat there, frozen, as the weight of what he'd just done finally hit him.

Vicrona the Mountain Slayer. A name spoken with both awe and fear. Considered one of the strongest wizards alive, her feats were the stuff of legend-whole mountains erased by her power, monsters that had terrorized regions felled by her hand. She was a force of nature, a walking disaster when she chose to be. Some called her a monster in human form, others an apex predator, someone that kept balance in nature, and a rare few whispered that she might one day surpass even the First Hunter himself.

Orion-the man who walked among beasts like he was one of them, who hunted creatures that no one dared to face in ancient times, he who is still talked about in Epic Sagas, until this day. Believed to be a saint of the moon goddess, Losna. To be compared to him was no small thing, yet Vicrona had earned that reputation through sheer power, skill, and relentless will.

And Tommy… had just casually yelled after her, promising to find her once he was stronger-like it was some kind of friendly rivalry.

The pub was still buzzing with shock.

"I thought she'd be more... terrifying." said the first villager.

"She was terrifying! Did you see the size of her?!" said another.

"And she just walked out of here like it was nothing…" said a third one.

Tommy swallowed hard. His mind replayed everything-the casual way she'd talked, the way she'd smacked him on the back like he was a kid, the way she'd forgotten where she was from for a second, it all made her seem like a tall and forgetful aunt...

How could that forgetful, towering brute be someone so infamous?

The barkeep finally exhaled and shook his head. "Well, lad... guess you better start training."

Tommy nodded slowly. "Yeah... yeah, I really do."