“That was honestly rough and very much unexpected.” With a satisfied sigh, Damien knelt beside the massive carcass of the lake beast, his fingers tracing the rough, scaly surface.
The battle had been unexpected, but it had provided him with an opportunity he wouldn’t waste.
Carefully, he summoned a small, precise blade from Luton’s storage and made an incision along the creature’s chest. The thick hide resisted at first, but with steady pressure, he sliced through, exposing the internal organs.
His target was the magic essence core.
Every mana beast had one, the concentrated source of their power. Stronger beasts had larger, denser cores, and from the intensity of their battle, he knew this one would be valuable.
Damien reached into the cavity, his fingers brushing against something smooth and solid. He gripped the core firmly and pulled. It came loose with a wet squelch, glistening with a soft blue glow.
He held it up, studying the pulsing energy within.
“Not bad,” he murmured, wiping the excess blood onto the creature’s tattered fin. “A Grade Four essence core from something this large isn’t bad either.”
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Satisfied, he stored the core in Luton’s space before shifting his focus back to the body. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten properly since he found himself in this strange place.
“Well, at least I won’t be going hungry.”
Damien began cutting the creature’s flesh into manageable portions. The beast was massive, but he only needed enough for a meal. Once he had several sizeable pieces, he moved on to the next step—fire.
A quick scan of the area revealed a small grove of trees not too far away. It was a rare sight in this barren landscape, but it was exactly what he needed.
Damien made his way toward the trees, his sword in hand. With a few clean strikes, he chopped down several branches and bundled them together before dragging them back to his makeshift campsite.
With his Flame Manipulation skill, he dried the sticks instantly, ensuring they would burn efficiently. Then, with a simple spark of fire magic, he set them ablaze.
The campfire crackled to life, casting a warm glow over the lakeside.
Next came the seasoning.
Damien sighed, shaking his head. If there was one thing he had learned over the years alone in a God foresken forest, it was to always carry spices. A good meal in the wild could make all the difference.
Luton, ever reliable, spat out a small pouch of mixed seasonings.
“I really do have everything stored in there, huh?” Damien smirked, patting the Stellar Slime before rubbing the seasoning onto the meat.
As the pieces sizzled over the flames, their rich aroma filled the air, making his mouth water. He sat back, turning the meat occasionally while glancing at the lake.
The water had returned to its calm, undisturbed state, as if his battle with the beast had never happened.
After a few more minutes, the meat was ready.
Damien took a bite, savoring the smoky, well-seasoned flavor. It wasn’t the most luxurious meal, but it was one of the best he’d had in a while.
Between bites, he scooped up water from the lake with his hands, drinking deeply. The water was surprisingly pure, refreshing him instantly.
When his meal was finished, Damien stretched his arms behind his head, exhaling contentedly.
“I’ve got nothing better to do at the moment so I guess it’s that time. Time to rest.” Damien whispered to himself lazily.
He laid back, pulling Luton closer. The Stellar Slime, ever adaptable, reshaped itself into a soft, pillow-like form beneath his head.
Damien smirked. “Perfect.”
His eyes drifted shut, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax.
His plans to get stronger could wait. His battles could wait. Right now, he had no immediate danger, no urgent mission—just a quiet night under an open sky.
‘When I get back to Westmont,’ he thought drowsily, ‘I’ll start working toward real strength.’
“If I can still return.” Those were Damien’s last words before he fell asleep.
Morning came quickly.
Damien stirred, blinking against the soft morning light. Luton shifted on his head as he sat up, stretching his stiff muscles.
He glanced at the remains of his campfire, embers still glowing faintly. He stepped over and stomped it out, ensuring no stray sparks remained.
Aquila stood a few feet away, watching him with its sharp, golden eyes.
Damien took one last look at the lake, mentally marking its location before turning back to his mount. Now that he had confirmed this lake was the same one on his map, he had a clear direction to follow. “Well then, it’s time to head back to base.”
He climbed onto Aquila’s back, gripping the beast’s feathers as he settled into position.
With a powerful beat of its wings, the griffin launched into the sky, climbing higher and higher until the vast landscape unfolded beneath them.
Damien’s gaze locked onto the horizon.
It would take time, but now, he knew how to return to Westmont.
Aquila soared through the evening sky, the rhythmic beating of its powerful wings blending with the whisper of the wind.
Damien sat comfortably atop the griffin, his eyes scanning the horizon as the sun dipped lower, casting an orange glow across the vast landscape.
His flight toward Westmont had been uninterrupted for hours, but just as he thought he could reach his destination before nightfall, something unusual caught his attention.
Below, three figures moved rapidly across the terrain. One was sprinting desperately ahead, while the other two pursued closely behind.
Damien’s sharp eyes focused on the chase, and he gestured for Aquila to descend slightly, keeping a careful distance. “Don’t get too close but get close regardless. Just make sure to remain out of sight.”
The griffin obeyed, its silent flight ensuring they remained unnoticed. As he got closer, Damien’s heightened senses allowed him to pick up snippets of their conversation.
“Get back here, girl!” the male pursuer barked, his breath ragged but determined.
“You’re just making things worse for yourself,” the female added, her voice laced with amusement rather than anger.
The one being chased—a girl—staggered slightly, exhaustion evident in her movements. She had snow-white hair that stood out against the darkening surroundings, and though Damien couldn’t yet see her face clearly, she looked young. Probably younger than him.
Damien’s eyes narrowed. “A captive?”
As he continued to observe, he pieced together more of the story from their exchanges.
The pursuers had killed her family a few miles back, slaughtering them in cold blood because her father had evidence that could expose their organization—an underground human trafficking ring known as ‘The Stray Hounds.’
Damien’s jaw clenched.
He knew nothing of the Stray Hounds but the fact that they were traffickers was enough information.
The Stray Hounds were a disgusting, vile group that preyed on the weak, selling human lives like mere commodities. He detested people like them, viewing them as little more than filth.
The mere thought of trafficking innocent people churned Damien’s stomach, and now, seeing it unfold before him, his blood boiled.
He almost felt guilty for not arriving sooner. Maybe, just maybe, he could have saved her family.
But he was here now.
As the chase reached its climax, the girl tripped, her exhausted body failing her at the worst possible moment. She hit the ground hard, barely able to push herself up before the two pursuers were upon her.
“There we go,” the man sneered, grabbing a handful of her white hair and yanking her up roughly. “Tired of running yet?”
The girl didn’t respond, her breathing ragged as she struggled against his grip.
His female companion chuckled. “Look at her. So stubborn.”
“Guess we should break her spirit a little, huh?” The man’s eyes gleamed with something dark and vile.
Then, to Damien’s disgust, he began pulling down his pants.
The girl’s eyes widened in horror as she thrashed harder, trying desperately to escape.
Damien moved.
Aquila plummeted from the sky like a silent predator, and in one swift motion, Damien leapt from his mount, sword flashing under the setting sun.
The man never even saw it coming.
A single horizontal slash carved through his waist before he even registered the attack.
“What was that?” For a brief second, he remained standing, his breath hitching as if his body was trying to process what had just happened. Then, as he looked down, the reality of it struck him.
Blood.
So much blood.
His lower half stood frozen while his upper body tilted unnaturally, the disconnect between them becoming grotesquely apparen to everyone around.
“Aarrhhhg!!” The girl’s scream of horror filled the air just as his torso separated completely, his upper body collapsing to the ground while his legs remained standing for another second before falling lifelessly.
Damien stood over him, his blade dripping crimson, his golden eyes glinting with cold fury.
The surviving woman barely had time to react.
She took a single step back, trembling, as Damien turned his gaze toward her.
His voice was flat, unbothered, almost bored as he muttered, “Don’t be gross.”