It's been about ten days since our return to the mansion and a little over a week since we've been in the woods trying to raise our level with Licht. And exactly a week since Aquaflora joined us. And hell, it has been a productive week considering what we're here for—harvesting experience and leveling up. That hasn't exactly been the case for me, but it certainly has for Licht and Aquaflora, despite her constant whining.

"Hiiiiiiiiii!" Aquaflora yelped, dashing through the woods at full throttle atop her broom, fleeing from two manor-sized beasts charging at her at full speed. The broomstick wobbled beneath her, barely holding steady as she ducked low, weaving between the towering trees of the forest. Her breath came in panicked gasps, her hair whipping wildly behind her.

Below, the earth rumbled like a drumbeat of doom as lightning bolts were hurled at her by the storming creatures. Three Stormscales hurtled after her, their massive forms tearing through the woods with unstoppable fury. Each beast was a juggernaut of raw power, standing nearly fifteen feet tall with dark, metallic scales streaked with veins of glowing blue lightning. Their elongated snouts bristled with serrated teeth, their jaws wide as they let out guttural, bone-shaking roars. Twin jagged horns crowned their heads, sparking with electric arcs that leapt between them, illuminating the carnage they left in their wake.

The first Stormscale barreled ahead, its bulk crashing through a cluster of trees. Trunks exploded into splinters, the sound of snapping wood drowning out even its thunderous footsteps. Its tail—a thick, barbed appendage—lashed out as it ran, carving deep grooves into the forest floor and smashing boulders to rubble.

Aquaflora swerved sharply, her broom narrowly avoiding a jutting branch. Her voice cracked as she screamed, "Why are they so FAST?! I'm out! I'm flying up," she announced.

"If you do that, I'm personally knocking you out of the sky," I warned as I flew along atop my spiritual sword with far more grace. "Just keep going faster, or if you're done running, fight it."

"There's no way I'm—Eeeeek!" she yelped as one of the Stormscales leapt, using its powerful hind legs to launch itself over a fallen tree, reaching onto her.

It was mere meters away from reaching her when something flashed and wedged itself between them, forcing the creature to abort its attack and land with a deafening crash. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, toppling smaller saplings. Its claws—curved like sickles and sharp enough to carve through stone—raked furiously at the earth as it quickly recovered, ready to attack again.

The obstacle that thwarted its attempt was none other than Licht, who had been following along, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. That opportunity had just presented itself again in the form of the Stormscale that just got back on his legs. Licht hurled himself at the creature with precision and force, only to be interrupted when a second Stormscale, abandoning its pursuit of Aquaflora, turned its attention toward him, making him its primary target.

This shift left Aquaflora being chased by just one of the Stormscales instead of two. With the focus shifting away from the group as a whole, it became clear just how threatening the creature was on its own. Slightly smaller than the two that had teamed up to deal with Licht, it was no less terrifying. Its glowing eyes, like molten gold filled with primal intelligence, locked onto her as its horns flared with crackling electric energy.

A bolt of lightning shot from its horns, arcing dangerously close to both Aquaflora and me. The bolt struck a tree ahead, splitting it clean down the middle. We’d just barely avoided the falling trunk, when we find ourselves forced to dodge again as more lightning bolts streaked toward us.

Aquaflora screamed and, just like I did, veered upward, her broom humming with a strained effort.

Explosions resound beneath. Below, shattered trees crashed directly in the path of the lead Stormscale. Unfazed, the beast didn't even flinch. It bulldozed through the falling trunks with brute force, splintering them as it charged forward relentlessly.

"It’s going to tear this whole forest apart! Where did you even find those things?" Aquaflora whined, her knuckles white as she clung desperately to the broom.

"From their lair, obviously."

After taking down the pack leader, these three—most likely the remaining strongest in the entire lair—gave chase to me. Naturally, I led them straight to Licht and Aquaflora.

"Lair?! There was more of these things?!"

"Yep, so much more. So consider yourself lucky to have to deal with just these."

"How am I supposed to consider myself lucky over this!"

"Because you got to deal with just one," I said before realizing that leaving Licht might not have been such a good idea after glancing at the girl, who noticed the look I gave, then said, "Stop running and fight back," before suddenly having the sword she flew upon brutally stop, then turning around, adopt a stance from which she landed a heavy blow onto the Stormscale turning it to crash back down with a heavy thud, turning around to stare at Aquaflora and point warningly, "Fight back, run and I'm taking you to their lair next and leaving you there to deal with all of them," before flying to where Licht was left.

Although Aquaflora was the same age as me—or perhaps slightly older—one might assume that she would be roughly as strong as I am. However, that wasn't the case. Unlike me, who has spent years trying to become stronger by putting myself in dangerous situations, she has lived a relatively peaceful life. As a result, despite our age similarity, she lagged far behind in strength. In fact, even the much younger Licht surpassed her in this regard. But here's the thing: Licht is a Verdenkind—an elf—which makes comparing strength a far more complex task due to the differences in how human and elven systems are structured.

When examining the human system, you'll notice a recurring theme among all classes: they're all battle-focused. While some classes might be less so, they are an extreme minority. In contrast, our elven counterparts differ significantly. Many elven classes aren't strictly designed for combat. Even those considered battle-focused, like the Sylvan Enchanter or Memory Keeper, are quite adept at activities beyond fighting.

The existence of the affinity advancement pathway adds another layer of complexity, making it unreliable to gauge strength based solely on level between humans and elves. Not only do class differences play a role—which is also observable among humans of the same level but different classes—but depending on how they invest their affinity points, a level 5 elf may be severely outmatched by a level 5 human, or vice versa. It's a complicated mess that becomes even messier at higher levels. For elves, low levels are between level 1 to 10, mid levels are considered to be between 10 and 20, and high level anything beyond that point. As an elf reaches mid level, a trend emerges: assuming, of course, they didn't invest all their affinity points into a non-battle-focused subaffinity, elves at this tier of level are usually stronger than their human counterparts. Beyond this point, the situation changes back to a convoluted mess, as they often involve an "ancestral tree."

"Because you only had to deal with one," I replied, before realizing that leaving Licht alone might not have been the best idea. My gaze flicked toward the girl, who, from her change of expression, caught up with my thought.

"You better no—”

"Stop running and fight back," I interrupted, just before delivering a heavy blow to the Stormscale, sending it crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. Turning sharply to Aquaflora, I pointed at her with a stern, warning glare.

"Stop running and fight back. Should I catch you running again, I’ll take you to their lair and leave you there to deal with the rest that remained in the nest," I threatened, before darting off in the direction where I had left Licht.

Although Aquaflora was around the same age as me—or perhaps slightly older—it would be easy to assume she was as strong as I am. That, however, was far from the truth. Unlike me, who had spent years honing my strength by throwing myself into dangerous situations, she had lived a relatively peaceful life. As a result, despite our similar ages, she lagged significantly behind in strength.

In fact, even the much younger Licht surpassed her in this regard. But then again, Licht is a Verdenkind, and she’s an elf. Comparing strength between humans and elves is far more complicated due to the inherent differences in how their systems are structured.

In the human system, there’s a recurring theme across all classes: they’re almost entirely battle-focused. While some may lean away from combat, such classes are rare exceptions. In contrast, elven systems differ significantly. Many elven classes are not explicitly designed for battle, and even those that are, such as Sylvan Enchanters or Memory Keepers, often excel in non-combat domains as well.

Having different classes and attribute distributions already makes relying on level to gauge actual strength difficult, even among humans, so naturally, when you factor in the complex elven affinity leveling system, it becomes an even more convoluted mess. Depending on how an elf has invested their points—whether in non-battle-focused subaffinities or battle-focused ones—a low-level elf could be far weaker than a human counterpart or, conversely, much stronger.

For elves, low levels are generally considered 1 to 10, mid levels 10 to 20, and anything beyond that is high level. As elves reach mid level, a certain trend emerges: assuming they haven’t funneled all their affinity points into non-combat subaffinities, mid-level elves are typically stronger than their human counterparts of the same level.

However, beyond that point, the balance becomes a convoluted mess again, largely because of factors like the existence of the sigil known as"ancestral tree." This further complicates comparisons, making it impossible to assess strength simply by looking at levels.

When considering the advantages elves possess, the most notable is their ability to specialize through the affinity system. However, this strength comes with the inherent risk of overspecialization. Investing heavily in one area often means neglecting others. Humans, while lacking control over which skills they acquire, sometimes benefit from "luck"—a polite way of saying the system typically grants a skill to address a class's shortcomings. Of course, how well that "luck" works out depends entirely on one’s fortune.

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Elves can also hope for such luck, as it isn’t unique to humans. However, because elves have the ability to choose their path of specialization, they often grapple with the weight of decision-making—wondering what to invest their points in and how. This gives them the illusion that their destiny is entirely within their control, though as Goblin aptly put it, it’s really not.

Despite this belief, many elves attempt to mitigate the issue of overspecialization early on by opting for a subclass instead of a core class. A subclass allows them to leverage multiple core affinities simultaneously, rather than focusing exclusively on one, as is the case with a core class. Of course, this choice comes with its own set of drawbacks, but sometimes, to combat one challenge, a necessary compromise must be made.

Aquaflora’s class, Swamp Witch, is one such subclass. It provides her with better returns when investing in Nature and Spiritual subaffinities, while also allowing her to allocate points into subaffinities of the Arcane and Elemental affinities. Over the past century, she has invested most of the affinity points she’s harvested into the latter—Elemental affinity.

From that alone, you could say that she's chosen the class that offers her the most options, but despite the numerous affinities available to her through her class and their associated benefits, the stark reality is that at her current level, she's barely keeping up compared to Licht, who is 20 levels her junior. It might seem unfair to judge her, especially given her focus over the past century. But can you really blame me for expecting more from someone who has shown as much eagerness for battle as she has?

What? Am I trying to punish her for that insolence? Definitely not. I'm just trying to bring that girl back to reality before she gets herself killed. I only have the best in her mind; who else but someone that has that in mind would bother helping her level up and acquire some more of these precious affinity points? See, I'm all and pure kindness.

Reaching Licht, I arrived just in time to find him locked in the middle of an intense battle with the Stormscales. Their relentless attacks left him no room to counter—whether it was their lightning strikes, which turned everything they touched to ash, or their powerful pounces enhanced by the skill [Titanic Press], strong enough to bring down massive trees.

Despite the onslaught, Licht managed to evade their attacks with remarkable skill, remaining unharmed—a feat that would have been impossible if even one of their blows had connected. Each of the attack looked like they could either turn him to ashes or turn him to paste. As a knight, his dexterity was impressive, but it didn’t escape my notice that his movements were growing sluggish under the constant pressure.

"It seems I made the right call coming back—two really is a bit much for him," I thought to myself. I was ready to step in and handle the situation but decided against it, choosing instead to interfere only if absolutely necessary. That moment came a few minutes later.

Exhausted from dodging, Licht finally attempted a counterattack. Unfortunately, his strike was intercepted by a stray bolt from one of the Stormscales. While the bolt didn’t land a heavy blow, it destabilized him just enough to leave him unable to retreat from the pouncing attack of one of the mythical beasts.

It was about to crush him when I intervened, using my Draconic Breath skill. The breath attack knocked the creature back forcefully, and its crystallizing aftereffect encased the beast in a thick layer of ice. It wasn’t dead, but it was incapacitated long enough for Licht to recover and refocus on the remaining Stormscale.

The distraction I provided allowed Licht to land his first decisive blow—a strike he quickly followed with a flurry of attacks until the creature was no more. With one down, he turned his attention to the immobilized beast, which didn’t last much longer than the first.

Seeing how quickly it ended, I couldn’t help but regret interfering—it must have significantly reduced his experience gain. But what was done was done. Moving on, I approached him, clapping and offering praise. "Well done."

Still breathing heavily, he managed a grin. "Thanks for the help earlier—you made it manageable. What level... human-level equivalent are these things?"

"I’d say each of them is something I wouldn’t recommend the average level 45 to 50 Verdenkind to approach," I replied.

"Oh," he said, clearly proud of himself. "And you? At what level would you have handled these?"

"Me?" I chuckled. "Boy, did you forget what I am? I’m a Kinslayer. I’m far better suited to take on those aforementioned Verdenkind than these creatures."

He grunted in response, then glanced around. "Where’s Aquaflora? Is she already done?"

"No."

His brow furrowed. "You left her alone against one of those?"

Having fought alongside her during the stampede and trained with her over the past week, he was well aware of her capabilities—or lack thereof.

"She’s fine," I said, summoning a sword for him to ride on. "At least, I hope," I added as we dashed through the forest toward where she was still locked in combat.

When we arrived, she hadn’t noticed us. She was fully engrossed in her fight against the Stormscale, her soot-covered face and scorched clothes evidence that she’d been caught by its attacks. Despite her disheveled state, the battle didn’t look too dire for her—she was holding her own, if just barely.

Hovering high in the air atop her broom, Aquaflora kept herself well beyond the creature's reach, forcing it to rely solely on magical attacks. She dodged these with surprising precision, all while unleashing her own elemental attacks. Though her strikes, aided by her serpentine companion wrapped around her like a scarf, didn’t deal much damage, at least they consistently landed—unlike the creature’s.

It should be noted that she wasn’t simply evading and letting her loong do all the work. She actively contributed, using skills to summon massive roots from beneath the creature. These roots either tried to restrain it—only to be incinerated by the electricity it generated—or lashed at it with powerful whipping strikes, which seemed to inflict the most significant damage.

The battle was painfully drawn out, but eventually, the massive creature collapsed—or rather, it was brought down by a final, enormous root she summoned. As the creature let out its dying wails, Aquaflora waited, visibly exhausted, until the cries subsided. Only then did she descend to the ground, allowing herself to fall to her knees, completely breathless.

At that moment, Licht and I approached, clapping in unison. "That was a marvelous battle," I praised. "Truly a delight for the eyes."

"You..." she started, lifting her gaze, but her exhaustion made it difficult for her to complain.

"I admit it was a bit slow, but hey, nobody's perfect—" I began, stopping mid-sentence.

Aquaflora, noticing my expression, raised her eyes warily. "What is it?"

Licht echoed, "What’s wrong?"

Pricking up her ears, Aquaflora's eyes narrowed. "We’ve got guests," I announced to the duo.

Though nothing was yet visible, moments later, they appeared—a group of Stormscales, emerging from all corners to surround us.

"What are they doing here?" Aquaflora asked, her voice tense.

"Erm, I’d say it might have something to do with the three colony members you guys just killed," I replied nonchalantly. "Or, you know, it could be something else."

Something else, I thought, like them coming here for the same reason the others had—to avenge their younglings. But neither Aquaflora nor Licht needed to know about that little detail.

Glancing at the two of them, I noticed they both looked at me with expectant expressions. "What? Nobody’s volunteering to deal with this?" I asked.

"Certainly not me," Aquaflora retorted.

"Yeah, me neither," Licht added, shaking his head.

I sighed. "Alright, I guess this is going to be free experience for me, then," I said, raising an arm.

Activating Judgment of the Firmament, I summoned colossal lances that manifested in the sky and crashed down with thunderous might, smiting the Stormscales in a violent display of power. Most of them were impaled and killed instantly—though not all.

One of the creatures managed to evade the deadly strike. True to the vengeful tendencies of its kind, it charged forward with a furious roar. But midway through its charge, it suddenly stopped, its gaze shifting upward.

I looked up as well. Whatever it sensed, I sensed too—something high in the sky. And now, it was making its presence loudly known.

"What is that," Aquaflora asked.

To which Licht also surmised himself doubting his word, "A whale?"

Licht guessed it was a whale because the sound we all heard resembled a whale’s call. More importantly, the massive creature above actually looked like a whale. But what were the chances of a whale in the sky? Close to none, a reasonable person might say. Yet, there it was—a gigantic whale-like being floating in midair as naturally as a whale would in the ocean.

It was pure white, like paper, with only a touch of green on its back, which appeared to fence off what looked like a settlement nestled on the creature's immense frame.

The Stormscale, seeing the whale-like entity as a threat—understandable given its sheer size—charged up a powerful lightning attack and unleashed it toward the behemoth’s tail. But before the bolt could strike, something shot out from the creature’s back. In comparison to the colossal whale, the figure looked insignificant—a mere dot against a vast expanse. Yet, that tiny figure powered through the lightning bolt, intercepting it mid-descent, and crashed heavily onto the Stormscale.

The impact was deafening. The unmistakable sound of a skull shattering echoed, followed by a sickening splatter. The Stormscale lay motionless, its head crushed. Standing atop the broken remains of the beast was its killer.

As he brushed off the blood from his dramatic entrance, the figure pushed back his raven-black hair, revealing a sharp wolf cut. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate yet unhurried.

It was a he, undeniably tall and imposing. He loomed like a fortress, with broad shoulders tapering into a narrow, muscular waist. His thick arms hung at his sides, and his hunched posture gave him the predatory air of someone coiled and ready to strike. The closer he came, the more his sheer presence grew, the distance only amplifying the sense of threat.

Blessed with great genetics, I rarely felt short around men. Yet, the one in front of me was an exception—one of the rare few who made me feel small. That is, assuming he could even be called a man. On first glance, everything about him suggested humanity, but one detail quickly shattered that illusion: the lynchantropic ears.

As striking as his inhuman pair of ears were, their presence was somehow overshadowed by the ethereal chains that clung to him. The chains phased in and out of visibility, emitting a faint metallic chime when he moved. They pulsed with a fiery glow, perfectly synchronized with his heartbeat, as though they were alive—a living curse bound to his essence.

"You..." Aquaflora recognized him instantly. Of course, she would. Why wouldn’t she? He was one of those who had helped arrange her escape alongside Blondie, and Goblin, saving the other Argyrian-descent villagers who later settled in Mistwood Harbor. He was also there when Goblin, Blondie and White stopped Alexander when he was seconds away from killing her.

As he closed the distance, he bent slightly to address the height difference and greeted me in a voice that, as always, feels unexpectedly gentle for someone of his stature. "Ma’am..."

Reaching up to his head, now perfectly within reach, I patted it and said with genuine joy, "Welcome back, Bortz."