Clei moved through the canopy like a shadow.
Using his mana to mask his presence, he leaped silently from branch to branch, following the source of the earth-shaking roar. He didn't want to fight, but the sheer density of the mana outside his barrier had piqued his curiosity.
When he finally peered through the leaves, his amber eyes widened.
Below him, two teenagers were sprinting for their lives through the underbrush. Behind them, a pack of five Steel-Quill Boars—Rank 3 Veteran Aetherborn—was in hot pursuit. Their metallic quills scraped against the trees, sending sparks flying.
But the beasts weren't the real problem. Looming just behind the pack was a colossal silhouette. The ground trembled with every step it took. Clei's breath hitched. It was an Ironclad Mammoth. A Rank 4 Alpha Aetherborn, its thick hide plated in natural, impenetrable metal.
The two kids were putting up a desperate fight as they ran.
The boy, clad in expensive, reinforced leather armor, spun around and slammed his shield into the lead boar. A surge of golden aura flared from his body—an Aether-Knight's signature. By inhaling ambient mana to reinforce their physical bodies, Aether-Knights could shatter boulders with their bare fists. The boy's shield bash sent a shockwave that staggered the beast, but it quickly recovered, snorting in rage.
"Keep moving, Toshi!" the girl yelled. She didn't look back, instead slamming her palms onto the dirt. Frost rapidly spread across the forest floor, turning the mud into a sheet of slick, black ice. The pursuing boars lost their footing, crashing into one another in a tangle of squeals and clattering metal.
Clei watched them with mild surprise at their coordination. Judging by their uniforms and the glowing insignias on their collars, they were clearly academy students. From his father's books, Clei knew the borders of the Great Forest of Althea were dotted with five villages and two major cities. The capital, Lydia, lay far to the north, while the nearest city, Anatolia, was to the east. Each city housed a grand academy, while the villages had smaller preparatory schools that sent their top students to the cities. These two were likely from Anatolia.
In the Human Realm, formal education began at five, but true magical or martial training only started when a child could sense mana, usually around ten. Most kids struggled to absorb mana, barely reaching the F-rank Novice tier by the time they graduated. To be an E-rank Adept at sixteen, like these two, was considered the mark of a genius.
But Clei was a D-rank Expert. In the eyes of the world, a sixteen-year-old D-rank was an anomaly, a talent that bordered on the mythical, rivaling heroes like the Holy Paladin Reimus. The leap to D-rank required Internalization, a turning point that separated ordinary fighters from true powerhouses. Once a D-rank was achieved, forming a C-rank Mana Core was only a matter of time.
They're talented, Clei thought, watching the boy's aura flare. But they are way too weak to fight a Rank 4 beast.
The Ironclad Mammoth let out a deafening roar, its trunk smashing through a thick oak tree as if it were a twig. It was angry. The kids had clearly stumbled into its nest and injured its young.
The boy, Toshi, stumbled over a root, and the girl, Verdehile, grabbed his arm to pull him up. They were heading straight for Clei's tree.
Clei hesitated. His instincts screamed at him to stay hidden. These were humans. The same humans who had starved him and called him a monster. But as he looked at the terrified, determined expressions on their faces, a strange feeling bubbled in his chest. It wasn't just pity. It was a desperate, burning curiosity. He wanted to see the outside world. He wanted to know if humans could still be brave.
Damn it, Clei cursed internally.
He dropped from the canopy, landing softly between the fleeing students and the charging beasts.
"Here!" Clei shouted, his voice muffled by his black mask.
Toshi and Verdehile skidded to a halt, staring at the masked figure in shock.
Clei didn't give them time to process. He snapped his fingers.
Firewall.
A massive pillar of blinding, white-hot flames erupted from the ground, stretching three meters wide and towering into the canopy. The sheer heat flash-fried the moisture in the air. The Steel-Quill Boars slammed into the invisible wall of heat, shrieking as their metallic quills began to glow red. Even the Ironclad Mammoth halted, crying out in confusion and pain at the sudden barrier of fire.
"Run!" Clei barked over the roar of the flames. "Head east! There's a lake!"
Toshi gripped his dented shield, his jaw set with stubborn resolve. "I'm not leaving you behind! I'll hold them off, you get the lady to safety!"
Verdehile looked at Clei, her icy blue eyes analyzing his stance. "Toshi, he's a mage! Look at his aura!"
"I don't care!" Toshi argued, his pride as an Aether-Knight flaring. "I won't let a stranger die for us!"
The Firewall was already beginning to flicker; maintaining a D-rank spell against a Rank 4 beast was draining his Mental Energy rapidly.
"Listen to me, you idiot!" Clei snapped, his amber eyes flashing dangerously. "That mammoth is blind with rage. If you fight it, you'll die. Head east to the lake! The Mist-Scale Wyrm lives there. It's a Rank 4, but it's territorial and lazy. As long as you don't attack it, the mammoth won't cross into its domain. Go!"
Toshi froze, stunned by the sheer authority in the masked boy's voice. Verdehile didn't hesitate. She grabbed Toshi's collar and yanked him forward. "We're going! Thank you!"
"Move!" Clei yelled.
As the two students sprinted into the darkness, Clei turned back to the flames. The Firewall shattered, dissolving into a shower of harmless embers. The Ironclad Mammoth charged, its metal tusks lowered to gore him.
Clei didn't stand his ground. He dashed sideways, reaching into his pouch. He pulled out a dried Sun-spore pod—a volatile forest plant Silas had taught him to harvest. Crushing it in his palm and injecting a tiny spark of mana, he threw it at the ground.
POP!
A blinding flash of white light and thick smoke erupted, stunning the mammoth for a crucial second. Clei bolted into the trees. He needed to lure the beast away from his sanctuary.
He ran like the wind. In the Human Realm, mages were often mocked for their frail bodies. But Silas had never let Clei skip his physical training. Pushed to his limits every single day, Clei's physique was far more robust than the average spellcaster. In fact, his raw speed and stamina could easily match a D-rank Aether-Knight.
The Ironclad Mammoth was terrifyingly fast for its size, but its massive, heavy body couldn't turn quickly. Clei used its own momentum against it, darting sharply left and right, forcing the giant beast to skid and crash into trees.
Seeing that it was unable to catch the slippery human, the mammoth stopped its pursuit of Clei. It let out a low, angry rumble and changed direction.
Clei's eyes widened. It's going after them!
Without thinking, Clei immediately changed directions and chased after the mammoth. In a few minutes, they arrived near a lake, and he finally saw the students, running for their lives, extremely exhausted and almost falling to the ground. The knight was still able to hold on, but the mage, being physically frail, had slowed down considerably.
In just a few seconds, the behemoth would catch up to them.
Clei no longer hesitated. He gathered every last drop of his mana and unleashed his strongest single-target spell toward the mammoth.
Fireblast.
A massive sphere of compressed, blinding fire slammed into the beast's side. The Ironclad Mammoth skidded to a halt, blinded by the sudden heat. But as it raised its trunk to charge Clei, a massive, serpentine head rose from the dark waters of the lake behind them.
The Mist-Scale Wyrm.
The massive water-attribute beast hissed, its scales shimmering with a chilling, aquatic mana. It glared at the mammoth, clearly annoyed by the noise and the intrusion into its territory.
The mammoth hesitated. It was angry, but it wasn't stupid. Fighting a D-rank mage and provoking another Rank 4 Alpha in its own territory was suicide. With a final, frustrated snort, the mammoth turned around and lumbered back into the deep forest.
Silence fell over the lake, save for the gentle lapping of the water. The Wyrm gave Clei one last suspicious glare before sinking back beneath the surface.
Clei let out a long, shaky breath, his mental energy completely depleted. His knees felt weak.
He turned around slowly.
Toshi and Verdehile were staring at him, their chests heaving. For the first time in over a year, Clei was standing face-to-face with humans his own age. His heart hammered against his ribs, a mix of lingering adrenaline and a sudden, terrifying wave of social anxiety.
He gave a small, awkward wave, keeping his black mask firmly in place. He was still deeply guarded around humans; he wasn't ready to let strangers see his face. Subconsciously, he kept his left hand tucked slightly behind his back, the thick, fire-resistant leather glove hiding the pitch-black mark beneath.
"Uh... hello," Clei said, his voice muffled by the mask.