Amon took a spirit stone from his pouch and handed it to his soul beast, San. Without hesitation, San gulped it down in a single swallow, as if the energy inside the stone was his by right. There was no flash of light or dramatic explosion, only a thin wisp of steam escaping from his feathers, accompanied by a subtle vibration.
Zore pulled out a Linking Stone, a round rock emitting a faint glow. The stone trembled gently.
"Who's contacting you?" asked Amon, his eyes still fixed on San.
"Reporting, Lord Amon. The head of the family is asking for the results of your expedition."
Amon narrowed his eyes. A bitter undertone slipped into his voice.
"Hmph. So that old man still remembers he has a son."
He turned back. "Tell him... it's time we came home."
Zore nodded slowly. "Yes, my lord."
But then he added, "Lord Amon... some of the men are exhausted. A few are injured. We need a place to rest tonight."
Amon fell silent, gazing at the unlit campfire. Then he nodded firmly.
"You're right... I was too focused on chasing victory and forgot to look back. San also needs time to stabilize his energy. Let's find a safe place. Make sure the two Raivernox heads are taken as proof... and salvage any other usable body parts."
---
Hours passed. Heavy footsteps, snapping branches, and the sloshing of water bottles being shared marked their exhaustion. When the sun had completely set, they found a large cave at the edge of the forest—hidden by thick bushes and nearly invisible unless stumbled upon.
Amon inspected the interior. "Old beast tracks... but no fresh scent. It's safe."
Night fell. The campfire lit up. The cave began to feel alive. Some of the men unwrapped their bandages, sat cross-legged, bit into dried meat, and sipped herbal tea with relieved expressions.
Quiet conversations slowly grew into soft laughter.
"Remember when the Raivernox charged at us like a two-headed bull?" one soldier joked with a bitter laugh.
"You said you'd distract it… and then you were the first to run!"
"Hahaha! I ran so you guys could attack from behind!"
"Yeah, attack with panic!"
Laughter erupted. Even Amon cracked a small smile—a rare luxury for a war leader.
Zore sat at the edge of the circle. He didn't speak, only observed. Like someone preparing something beneath his silence.
---
Suddenly, he stood and slapped his forehead.
"Ah! I almost forgot..." he exclaimed.
He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a dark, long-necked bottle wrapped with red-gold cloth.
"Wine?" murmured one of the soldiers.
"Seriously? You brought wine from home just to save it until now?" another said, laughing.
"The best wine is drunk in celebration of victory," Zore said lightly. "Lord Amon, you must join us."
Amon shook his head. "I'm not used to drinking in unfamiliar places..."
But after seeing the tired yet happy faces of his soldiers, he nodded.
"...But for tonight. One glass."
A small cheer rose. The bottle was opened. Clay cups were filled.
---
They sat in a circle. The firelight cast large shadows on the cave walls.
"I swear... this is the best wine I've ever tasted," one of them said with a satisfied smile.
"If we get this after every mission, I'd work twice as hard!" another chimed in.
But a few minutes later, the mood changed.
"Uh… why is my head spinning?"
"My legs feel heavy... like... paralyzed..."
Amon stood abruptly. His gaze sharpened. He dropped his cup. It shattered.
"STOP DRINKING!"
Everyone turned. Panic spread across their faces.
"Zore. What wine is this?"
Zore didn't answer. He simply raised the bottle and looked at them with a crooked smile.
"Wild Laughter Wine," he said calmly. "A rare wine that drops all status to Base Level. Level 10. Lasts twelve hours."
"WHAT?!" the soldiers cried in unison.
One of them lunged forward in panic.
But his body was weak. His movement slow. Before he could even reach Zore—a black soul chicken with fiery red feathers appeared in front of him.
With one swift motion, the chicken struck the attacker with its claw.
The soldier's body slammed into the cave wall. Unconscious.
Zore downed the rest of the wine in the bottle. "Relax. I already drank the antidote. To you, this is intoxicating. To me... it's just a sweet treat."
Several soldiers tried to stand, but their bodies trembled. None had the strength to grab their weapons.
Amon didn't move. His hand touched the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw it.
He stared at Zore deeply. Not with anger, but with weight. Heavy. Old.
"Zore..." he said softly.
And he didn't continue.
"Lord Amon, where's your usual arrogance? Show me!" Zore cried, his tone unreadable—caught between hatred, pain, and long-dead hope.
He stood tall, proud, but his eyes… held a deep wound. His face full of rage, yet a strange emptiness—as if this didn't bring him the satisfaction he imagined.
Amon only sighed, long and heavy. His eyes blank, not with surrender, but with bitter realization.
"Zore... of all people... you were the one I trusted most to stand by my side," he whispered. "We grew up together. Trained together. You know that... I just never thought..."
He turned slightly, as if unable to face the truth standing before him.
"If you want to kill me, do it. But I won't fight back. Not because I'm afraid. But because... I already lost before your blade was even drawn."
Zore fell silent. A flicker of childhood memories danced behind his eyes. When they used to laugh under the sun in the family academy's backyard.
But a second later, the doubt vanished.
"Relax, young master," he sneered. "I won't kill you. Not yet."
He looked at San—Amon's soul beast—currently mid-evolution, hunched over, his body wrapped in soft light.
"Instead... your soul beast must die. I've waited for this moment. When he's in transition—vulnerable and defenseless."
Without waiting for an answer, Zore swung his sword.
CRACK!
The slash pierced San's chest. The little chicken let out a faint—"Kwak"—before collapsing. Motionless.
Amon dropped to his knees, clutching his chest as if his own soul had been torn apart. A bond with a soul beast wasn't just a contract—it was half your life. And now, that life had been ripped away.
His body fell. Unconscious.
Zore looked down at him. His face expressionless. Not satisfied. Not relieved. Just silent.
One by one, the remaining members of Amon's squad tried to rise. Even with their statuses drastically lowered, they stepped forward—not out of hope for victory, but out of loyalty.
But it was all in vain.
Zore's soul beast—black-feathered with crimson wings like fire—launched into the field. With unmatched speed and strength, it kicked, tore, and smashed. Blood splattered the cave walls.
No one survived.
---
Deep in the Forest
Far from the chaos…
Brama strode steadily over wild tree roots. Mist was descending, and the sunlight dimmed under the canopy. But his instincts—honed from years as a battle general—guided him.
Until he stopped.
"Huh? A cabin?"
A small wooden structure stood neatly in the middle of the forest. Too neatly. No moss. The ground was clean. The grass around it looked freshly trimmed.
Brama narrowed his eyes. "System, do you detect any life forms nearby?"
Ding. Aside from the Host and Ruda, no life forms larger than an ant are within range.
"Hm... suspicious."
He sensed something off. As if the place had been deliberately sterilized.
"If any creature enters your detection range, let me know."
Command received.
"Ruda, fly and scout around. But don't go too far."
"Kwak!" Ruda flapped his wings, flying low to scan the area.
Meanwhile, Brama slowly opened the cabin door. Inside—table, chair, writing tools, and stacks of books. All neatly arranged, dustless. As if the owner had just stepped out moments ago.
Minutes later, Ruda returned, shaking his head.
"No one?"
The little bird chirped softly.
"Alright. We'll spend the night here. But stay alert."
Night fell.
No crickets. No nocturnal animals. Even the wind felt unnaturally still.
Ding. You have received Challenge Level 1.
Brama frowned. "Challenge?"
Suddenly, from behind the trees, glowing red eyes appeared. One... two... dozens... then hundreds.
"Ruda, battle mode."
Strange creatures—three-eyed reptiles, fanged mammals with branching tusks, all Level 1—rushed forward.
Brama smirked. "There's a lot… but they're too weak."
He leaped, his hand crushing the first enemy's skull. Ruda swept from the air, wings and claws tearing through the small bodies like a lightning storm.
Brama moved like a war machine. No wasted movement. Necks snapped. Ribs shattered. The ground became an execution field.
One hundred... two hundred...
Within fifteen minutes, all were down. Not a single scratch on his body.
"No EXP?"
Level 1 Challenge complete. Congratulations.
"An opening test?"
Brama exhaled. "If this is only the beginning... then I better prepare for what's to come."