Unexpected Encounter -1.

After Solas' departure, Azhriel didn't falter for a moment. He kept up his training with unwavering discipline, his routine now a relentless grind of swordplay, magic control, and surviving the wild, dangerous forest. Every day, he pushed his body and mind to their edge—sometimes past it.

"Phew…" Azhriel exhaled slowly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples as he concluded another intense mana absorption session. His azure eyes, glowing faintly like a calm yet deep ocean, opened and instantly narrowed.

Something stirred.

His head turned sharply to the right—something had moved.

Without hesitation, he rose, calm yet alert. His hand reached for the silver sword resting at his side. Gripping it tightly, he stepped forward, his senses honed, moving toward the source of the disturbance.

As Azhriel approached the source of the disturbance, a blur darted out from beneath the shadows of the dense foliage, charging toward him on all fours.

The moment it stepped into the light, Azhriel's eyes narrowed in recognition—it was a massive brown boar, roughly the size of a bull, its heavy body thundering forward, tusks long, curved, and razor-sharp.

Despite its size and momentum, Azhriel remained calm. This beast wasn't a threat.

It was a mana beast, not a monster—and that distinction made all the difference.

Monsters and mana beasts might seem similar at a glance, but they were fundamentally different.

Unless of high rank, monsters constantly exuded bloodlust, a signature that corrupted and twisted the land around them. Mana beasts, on the other hand, were in tune with nature.

They did not destroy their environment, and while often aggressive toward humans or intruders, they didn't carry the madness of their monstrous cousins.

Monsters, especially the lower-ranking ones, had been saturated in raw, unrestrained mana for so long that they'd lost all sense of self—driven only by hunger, instinct, and destruction.

Mana beasts still possessed instinct and intelligence. They were predators, yes, but not mindless abominations.

(Note - High ranking monster, which had reached a certain rank can control their sanity, instincts and know about emotions.)

Azhriel stood still, unmoved by the thundering charge of the massive boar. Its speed was surprising, especially for a creature of its size, but he didn't waver. Instead, he calmly analyzed the situation.

'Boars like this don't usually travel alone… they stick to groups to avoid predators.'

He narrowed his eyes slightly, watching its wild yet deliberate charge.

'So either it got separated… or someone forced it out.'

That last thought lingered. Few dared to enter this part of the forest—fewer still could survive in it. For something or someone to drive off a mana beast this size... it wasn't ordinary.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

The boar was only ten meters away now, tusks angled to peirce, eyes locked onto the person in it's way.

'Let's finish the beast first.'

Azhriel calmly raised his hand, a faint blue glow enveloping his palm. The air around him chilled in response.

In an instant, a sharp spike of ice erupted from the ground, rising like a spear.

The boar, too fast to stop, impaled itself mid-charge. Its momentum carried it a few steps more before its weight slumped, lifeless, to the forest floor.

Azhriel let out a soft breath, lowering his hand.

"At least that solves dinner… and buys me more time for training," he muttered, as his face remained emotionless.

However, before he could take even a step toward the fallen boar, a sudden ripple in the air made Azhriel stop.

It was faint—barely noticeable to anyone less attuned—but to him, who had stayed in the forest for nearly half a year, it rang like a silent bell of warning.

His body stiffened as a sharp chill crawled up his spine. Something was approaching. And it was both faster and stronger. They were dangerous. His instincts didn't just alert him—they screamed.

With a slow breath, Azhriel tightened his grip on the hilt of his silver sword, its edge gleaming faintly under the sunlight.

Mana surged quietly through his veins, coating his limbs in a soft blue glow. His stance shifted—not into aggression, but readiness. He wasn't foolish enough to rush blindly.

He narrowed his eyes, staring at the dense trees ahead. From the mana signatures, he could atleast tell that they weren't a monster. It was a Human.

But even with that ominous presence drawing near, his expression didn't falter. Fear didn't weigh down his breath. In fact, he was calm—too calm. Because he wasn't the same helpless boy from months ago. Not anymore.

Even if his opponent was far stronger, even if his odds of victory were slim—he had his strength now. And more importantly, he had ways to escape.

If things went south and it truly came down to it… he could always run.

But what happened, in the next moment caught him completely off guard.

The presence surged forward, perhaps sensing something off, they also moved slowly. Azhriel's sharp gaze locked onto the source as two figures stepped through the dark canopy into the sun-dappled clearing.

And then he froze—his breath caught.

His grip on his sword loosened just slightly, the mana around him flickering for the briefest second. Not because they were powerful. Not because they were two. But because of who stood there.

A single memory flashed in Azhriel's mind—strange, haunting, and yet so incredibly beautiful that it left a mark on his soul.

The scene was of a battlefield, lit only by pale moonlight. Countless bodies lay scattered, their blood soaking the earth, turning the brown ground into pools of red.

But even with all that death, the battlefield didn't look terrifying—it looked… breathtaking.

Mana hydrangeas and white lunar lilies had bloomed all across the field, glowing faintly, their petals swaying gently as if untouched by the tragedy around them.

And in the center of it all, where the bodies lay piled like mountains, sat a lone girl on a large, broken grand throne—

She wore a long white dress, lined with silver and gold, with not a single speck of blood or dust on it. A veil of similar colour dressed her head.

She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them, her head resting gently on top. A sad, almost peaceful smile was on her face, her eyes closed.

Her long white hair fell down over her shoulders—half stained with crimson blood, the other half still pure as snow.

She looked breathtaking, she looked utterly gorgeous or in more simple words.

She looked etheral..

It was a scene so quiet, so unreal, that Azhriel had never been able to put it into words.

And now, standing right in front of him… was her.

The woman he had never met—

Yet could never forget.

The Grand Villainess of the game.