Clei's mind raced as he stared at the colossal beast. It was the exact same Rank 4 Alpha they had fled from a week ago. But the majestic, territorial creature they had seen last week seemed to be totally different. Looking at it, just like the other Aetherborn they had fought earlier, it seemed this mammoth was also inflicted by the same blight described in his father's book.
In the world of Falstne, the strength of Aetherborn increased exponentially with each rank. While a Rank 4 beast was theoretically equivalent to a C-rank human, an Aetherborn possessed a vastly superior physical body, natural elemental affinity, and mystical traits. It usually required a coordinated squad of C-rank powerhouses to hunt one.
This Ironclad Mammoth was the size of a two-story house, its hide plated in impenetrable metal. Normal swords and low-tier elemental attacks would simply shatter against it.
Even at her absolute peak, Teacher Teresa would struggle to fight it alone. In her current, exhausted state, it was a death sentence.
Captain Ludwig, the D-rank Wood Knight, forced himself to his feet. His leather armor was torn, and green mana flickered weakly around his mace, but his expression was valiant. Behind him lay the village of Althea. If this behemoth broke through the farmlands, it would slaughter hundreds of innocent people.
"All of you, fall back!" Ludwig roared, slamming his mace into the dirt. "I will hold it off until the Village Head and the Deacon arrive. You've done enough!"
Despite their grievous injuries, the surviving village guards limped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with their captain, ready to sacrifice their lives.
Teresa hesitated. She was completely drained, and protecting this village was not her responsibility. When she had accepted the quest, she was told they were fighting Rank 2 beasts—a perfect, safe training exercise for her students. She had never anticipated a Rank 3 horde, let alone a Rank 4 Alpha.
Her priority was her students.
"I am securing my students and withdrawing," Teresa said, her voice resolute. "May the Radiant God watch over you, Captain."
Toshi gripped his shield—an heirloom artifact from the Valerius family that had been passed down through generations—his knightly pride flaring. "Teacher, I can't just leave them to die—"
"You are an E-rank, Toshi," Teresa snapped, her stern gaze leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Against an Alpha, you are a casualty, not a fighter. Move!"
Clei watched in silence as the academy group began to retreat. He understood. This wasn't their home to protect. They had already risked their lives against the Rank 3 horde, and to stay against a Blighted Rank 4 Alpha would be suicide, not heroism. But then, the blonde archer stopped. She turned around, walking past the retreating students, and drew her bow, aiming directly at the charging behemoth.
Ludwig's eyes widened. "Elycia, get out of here!"
The archer didn't flinch. "My father is the Village Head of Althea. This is my home, and I will not run from it."
Hearing her name spoken aloud sent a violent jolt through Clei's chest. Elycia. It was truly her. The pain of the village's betrayal ten years ago clawed at his heart, but looking at her now, standing bravely against a monster to protect her people, all he felt was a profound, aching fondness.
He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out the Rank 3 Fire mana core Teresa had given him. He wasn't going to absorb it. In times of immediate, desperate danger, Silas had taught him a technique that only the most desperate adventurers ever attempted: overloading a mana core to detonate it like a bomb. It was a wasteful, dangerous move—mana cores were incredibly expensive and could be used as materials for countless valuable items—but in life-or-death situations, it could turn the tide. He just needed the perfect timing.
Clei nodded to Teresa. Seeing his calm demeanor, she realized he must have an ace up his sleeve. She gave him a grateful, lingering look before hurrying her exhausted students away.
Ludwig roared, channeling every last drop of his life force into his mace. "Ironwood Bastion!"
Massive, thick trunks of iron-hard wood erupted from the soil, weaving together to form an enormous, ten-foot-thick barricade directly in the mammoth's path. The effort completely drained Ludwig's mana. He collapsed to his knees, barely able to keep his shield raised.
The mammoth was fifty meters away. Forty.
Elycia's blonde hair whipped in the wind as she fired arrow after arrow. Guided by her wind magic, they struck the beast's eyes and joints with deadly precision. But it was useless. Ping. Ping. Ping. The arrows shattered harmlessly against its metallic hide.
Thirty meters. Twenty.
Clei counted the beast's thunderous strides. Five seconds.
He sprinted forward, channeling every last drop of his mana and pushing his body to its absolute limit. He injected his own fire mana directly into the Rank 3 core. The crystal shrieked, glowing with the blinding intensity of a miniature sun, the heat searing through his fire-resistant gloves.
As the mammoth's massive tusks collided with the wooden barricade, splintering the ironwood like twigs, Clei lunged.
"Dodge!" he roared.
Ludwig threw himself to the side. Clei thrust his palm forward, unleashing a Fireblast with the overloaded Rank 3 core as its catalyst.
The explosion was intense.
A blinding sphere of white-hot destruction engulfed the mammoth's head and chest. The shockwave flattened the surrounding crops and sent a wave of blistering heat washing over the defenders.
The mammoth was stopped dead in its tracks. It shrieked in agony. For a miraculous, fleeting moment, the intense, purifying heat of the Rank 3 core burned away the black Umbral veins crawling across its face. The dark aura vanished. The beast's eyes, previously empty and glassy, suddenly cleared, filled with confusion and pain. It shook its massive head, as if struggling to keep its mind, a brief moment of clarity in the chaos.
"Ranged, attack its joints! Melee, hold the line!" Ludwig coughed, seizing the window of opportunity.
But the reprieve was short-lived. As the flames faded, the black aura violently surged back from the beast's core, thicker and darker than before. The mammoth's eyes snapped back to shattered glass. Enraged by the pain, it let out an earth-shattering roar and charged forward, its massive metal-plated feet crushing the earth.
Ludwig's heart sank. His mana was gone. His men were broken. He raised his wooden shield, closing his eyes, accepting that this was his end. He only hoped his corpse would buy the village a few more seconds.
WHISTLE.
A sharp, piercing sound tore through the air.
Before the mammoth's tusks could crush Ludwig, a blur of motion slammed into the beast's flank. A concentrated shockwave of compressed wind, sharp enough to cut steel, exploded against the mammoth's metallic ribs.
The sheer kinetic force of the blow actually staggered the house-sized behemoth, forcing it to skid sideways and crash into the mud.
Ludwig opened his eyes in shock.
Standing between him and the mammoth was a towering, heavily muscled man. He wore reinforced chainmail and heavy leather, and strapped to his massive forearms were a pair of colossal, steel-plated gauntlets. Razor-sharp wind mana swirled around the metal fists, creating a visible vortex of air.
It was Garrick, the Village Head of Althea. A peak C-rank warrior, and Elycia's father.