Somewhere in the outer reaches of the Valley of Death, heavy clouds gathered in the sky. The air was thick, the scent of rain lingering. It would be the first rainfall of the year.
A group of adventurers, originally planning a hunt, hurried back toward the village. They had not prepared for the downpour.
"I told you it was going to rain! But no—" Carl grumbled as he stomped through the underbrush. "What did you say? 'Are you an idiot? It hasn't rained in ages! Why would it rain today?'"
"Alright, alright! I already said sorry, didn't I?" Hosea shot back, rolling his eyes.
Carl scoffed. "Oh, so 'sorry' is going to fix everything? So we can just go back and continue our—"
"What do you want me to do now, huh?" Hosea snapped.
"Oh, I don't know? Why don't you—"
"Enough!" Their captain's sharp voice cut through the bickering.
The others fell silent.
"We didn't prepare, and we're facing the consequences. That's it. We go back, prepare properly, and return later. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" the team responded in unison.
But before they could take another step, the adventurer at the back of the group froze. A sound—heavy footfalls—echoed behind him.
He turned, his breath hitching.
A bear stood there, its fur slick with blood.
Panic surged through him. He reached for his weapon, but the beast lunged. Teeth tore into his arm before he could react.
A scream rang through the valley as blood splattered the ground.
The others spun around just in time to see their comrade collapse.
The captain moved in an instant, slamming his palm to the ground. A jagged earthen spike shot upward, piercing the bear's throat.
The massive creature gave a strangled growl before crashing lifelessly onto the ground.
Their teammate was alive—but barely.
"You gotta be kidding me…" Hosea muttered, taking an uneasy step back.
Then, a rustling.
From the shadows of the trees, more bears emerged—bigger, stronger, with strange black stripes running across their fur.
The captain's expression darkened. "Evan! Sorta! Long-range attacks—keep them at a distance! The rest of you, grab Kahli and retreat! We're outnumbered!"
Evan, the ice mage, raised his staff. Sharp icicles erupted from the air, freezing the legs of the charging beasts.
Beside him, Sorta, the lightning mage, hurled crackling bolts of electricity at the nearest bear.
But something was wrong.
Sorta's lightning barely left a scratch.
"Oi, oi—what the hell? My attacks aren't even slowing them down!"
Evan's eyes widened as he took a closer look. "Those stripes… These aren't ordinary bears. They're mutated!"
A chill of realization ran through the team.
"What the hell are they doing here?" Carl blurted. "They're supposed to be in the Blue Field area! Why are they in the outer lands?"
The captain narrowed his eyes. "Listen up! They might resist mana, but they're weaker against physical attacks. Get into pairs—we counter them together, or we die here!"
Determination flickered through the adventurers' eyes. Weapons were drawn, spells readied.
But then—
A voice.
"That won't work."
It was calm, almost indifferent.
The adventurers turned toward the source of the voice, confusion flashing across their faces.
"While their resistance to your blades is low, for that…"
A sharp intake of breath.
One adventurer glanced at his partner—only to find a bear already at his feet, its claws raised to strike.
He didn't even have time to react.
BOOM!
Something bright crashed down between them, kicking up dust and debris.
The impact threw the bear backward.
When the smoke cleared, a sword was buried deep in the beast's skull—and standing on top of it was a lone figure.
A boy.
He was short, young—far too young to be in a battlefield like this. Yet, a tremendous amount of mana radiated from him, thick and suffocating.
"They gain an immeasurable amount of speed," the boy said, stepping off the corpse. His voice was level, almost bored. "All first- and second-rankers—get out of here."
The adventurers hesitated.
The bear had moved faster than the blink of an eye, yet this boy had not only seen its attack, but killed it instantly.
The captain clenched his jaw. This was no ordinary person.
"You heard him!" he barked. "Retreat!"
The lower-ranked members rushed away, leaving only the captain, Evan, and Sorta.
The boy's eyes flickered toward them. "You know what to do, right?"
The captain nodded. No words were needed.
Then, the boy moved.
His speed eclipsed even the bears' unnatural swiftness. He weaved between the beasts like a shadow, blade flashing as he sliced through their flesh.
The wounds weren't fatal, but they slowed the bears down—and that was enough.
The captain and Sorta struck at the injured beasts. Evan sealed them in ice, and the boy delivered the final blows.
One by one, the monsters fell.
Within moments, half of the bears lay dead.
The survivors, sensing their fate, turned and fled into the forest.
Sorta let out a victorious whoop. "Hell yeah! You don't wanna mess with us, suckers!"
The captain exhaled, shoulders relaxing. He turned to the boy who had saved them. "For how young you look, I'm surprised how strong you are." He extended a hand. "I'm Borus. Borus Vanart. And you are?"
The boy didn't take the handshake. Instead, he wiped his sword clean and spoke without looking up.
"There was a bounty on these bears. I came for them. Apparently, they attacked a nobleman's carriage carrying valuable goods. So, there's a hefty reward."
Borus stiffened. "Wait—are you saying you came here to kill them alone?" He studied the boy again. "How old are you? You don't even look older than fifteen or sixteen."
The boy finally met his eyes.
His gaze was piercing—a look that could bring men to their knees. Yet, behind it, there was something hollow.
A face of someone who wouldn't care if he died right now.
"Yeah." The boy turned away, sheathing his sword. "Since you helped, it wouldn't be fair for me to take the whole bounty. Meet me at the adventurers' guild tonight—we'll split it."
Borus hesitated. "Oh, no, we don't need the bounty. I mean, you saved our liv—"
"It's a hundred gold coins."
"I'll be there." Borus answered instantly.
Evan and Sorta groaned. "Captain, you're showing your true colors."
"Shut up!"
The boy walked over to one of the dead bears and casually hacked off its head. He stuffed it into a sack and started toward the town.
"Wait!" Borus called after him. "We're heading there too—let's go together!"
The boy didn't slow his pace, so Borus and the others hurried to keep up.
"Hey, you never said your name."
The boy finally spoke.
"Erik. Just Erik."
Borus frowned. There was something about the way he said it—like it was a name he didn't even want. Like it was a name that carried nothing but pain.
But Borus didn't press further.
They walked in silence, crossing the west gate into town.
Before parting ways, Borus glanced at Erik one last time.
He'd never met anyone like him before.
And something told him—this wouldn't be the last time.