It was a hot June day. A Giant Wolf, almost as large as a full-grown bear, was devouring a four-horned deer it had hunted in the forest. A thick horn extended from the center of its forehead to the back of its head, and its filthy gray fur was smeared with blood in places. The wolf was oblivious to two young Myrills secretly watching it from a distance. One was perched on a tree, while the other hid behind the same tree.
After giving a hand signal to the figure behind the tree, a silhouette silently leapt down with the grace of a cat, despite his large frame. Like a shadow, he crept closer to the Giant Wolf. The wolf continued eating, unaware of the toung man hiding in the bushes just a few meters behind it. The young man drew a hunting knife from his pocket, gripping it tightly. He picked up a stone and threw it toward the bushes on the wolf's left. Distracted by the sound, the wolf turned to face the bushes, giving the young man a chance to charge out of hiding and attack from its blind spot.
Before the wolf could react, the boy was already on its back, aiming a slash at its throat with his knife. He landed five swift stabs on its neck and the back of its head, barely piercing through the wolf’s tough hide. Realizing his attacks weren't enough, the boy quickly leapt off the wolf’s back and put some distance between them. Enraged by the interruption, the wolf turned and growled at him. Knowing he stood no chance of outrunning the beast, the young man assumed a defensive stance and lowered his hood, revealing pitch-black hair and violet eyes.
Vulren Ravanan carefully observed the wolf's every move, preparing to escape. After growling briefly and measuring its opponent, the wolf lunged at Vulren. He narrowly avoided each of its attacks, patiently waiting for an opening. Gradually, he maneuvered the wolf closer to a massive tree. This was no ordinary tree; its roots sprawled mostly above ground, and the area around it was muddy from the liquid it exuded. Despite the slippery ground, the wolf continued its attacks, and Vulren kept evading. As time passed, the wolf's attacks became more dangerous.
When the wolf attempted to pounce, it momentarily lost balance on the slippery roots. Seizing the opportunity, Vulren grabbed its massive paw and bit its leg. Howling in pain, the wolf swung its other paw with enough force to tear Vulren apart. The paw missed his neck but grazed his chest, leaving a deep wound despite the glancing blow. Clutching his burning chest, Vulren began to run, with the injured wolf limping behind him.
After a few minutes of pursuit, Vulren reached a clearing and found himself cornered in front of a massive rock. The wolf took advantage of the situation, cutting off his escape routes and cautiously closing the distance. Just as the wolf was about to leap, a smaller figure emerged from behind a tree, a bright flame dancing on her hand. Sensing the immense magical power behind it, the wolf panicked and tried to flee. But Vulren leapt onto its back again, putting it in a chokehold to stop it from escaping. In its panic, the wolf sank its teeth into Vulren’s arm. Gritting his teeth in pain, Vulren used his extraordinary strength to further destabilize the wolf, toppling it to the ground.
At that moment, the other youth—Kavrala, with her silky golden hair and beautiful face—threw her small but radiant fireball at the wolf and Vulren, creating a small explosion. Kavrala, now panicking, rushed to Vulren’s side. As the dust cleared, she saw the wolf’s charred corpse and Vulren beneath it. Frantic, she tried to free Vulren but couldn’t move the massive wolf even slightly. First, she considered using an levitation spell, but since she was tired, she might accidentally crush Vulren. Exhausted from suppressing her magic and casting the spell, she slumped to the ground, guilt eating away at her. Every time they went hunting, Vulren ended up narrowly escaping death, usually because of her mistakes. This time, she had cast her fireball too late, catching Vulren in the explosion. Tears welled in her eyes until, suddenly, the wolf’s body was lifted.
Using both hands, Vulren shoved the wolf off and stood up, brushing off his clothes. Despite his burns and injuries, he was grinning. But when he saw Kavrala’s tear-filled eyes, his smile faded. “It was a joke. I was curious how would you rea-” he began, but his sentence was cut short as he noticed the fireball forming in Kavrala’s hand, her face now furious. Despite his wounds, Vulren dashed behind a large rock with unexpected speed, just as the fireball exploded.
When the sound of the explosion subsided, Vulren emerged from behind the rock, his tone mocking. “You know, those spells would be more useful before the Giant Wolf tears my arm apart. And maybe aim them at the wolf, not me.” Kavrala, still annoyed, stood up. “Fine, it was my fault. But you scared me, you idiot! I thought you were dead!” Vulren said nothing, sitting down cross-legged on the ground. Kavrala joined him silently and began casting a healing spell.
As the unpleasant tingling and burning sensation of the healing magic worked on his wounds, Vulren stayed calm and waited. He could never get used to it, but dying from blood loss wasn’t a great alternative. When the spell ended, Kavrala lay down on the grass to rest, and Vulren went to retrieve a bag he had hidden in a nearby tree hollow. He returned with two meal boxes, handing one to Kavrala before sitting under a tree with his own. Inside his box was vegetable rice with a large steak slathered in spicy sauce. Kavrala’s box, on the other hand, contained honey-glazed chicken, as she disliked steak and spice.
They ate in silence, Kavrala smiling as she opened her box. Vulren finished his meal quickly, while Kavrala was still halfway through hers. Reaching into his bag, Vulren pulled out another box with more steak and vegetables without the rice. Kavrala swallowed her food and teased, “You really like steak, huh?” Without looking up, Vulren replied, “Steak is a gift from the gods.” Kavrala chuckled quietly.
After a brief silence, just as Vulren was about to take a bite, Kavrala smirked. “I bet you a silver coin you can’t eat that steak in one go.” Vulren grinned. “Easiest silver I've ever got.” Normally, he ate carefully in front of her to avoid unsettling her, but this time, he grabbed the steak with his fork, opened his mouth wide, and swallowed it whole like a shark. Kavrala, now used to this odd sight, found it less horrifying and more amusing, bursting into laughter at Vulren’s chipmunk-like cheeks. Struggling to suppress his own laughter, Vulren almost choked on that steak, he eventually swallowed the steak and caught the silver coin Kavrala tossed to him. Vulren was going to put it in his pocket, but realizedthat his pockets were burnt, so he decided to put it in the bag. Taking the hunting knife hanging on his belt, Vulren cut off the wolf's horn and a few pieces of its hide and placed them in his bag.
After gathering their belongings, they began their walk back to the village, Kavrala's stealth cloak that she got from his dad and magic suppression lessons from Vulren helping them avoid detection. About five hours before sunset, they reached the edges of the forest. After parting ways with Kavala, Vulren walked for a while longer and arrived at his usual crossing point. Thanks to his greatly improved magic-sensing skill, he no longer needed to look around. In fact, his ability to sense magic was far superior to others, primarily because ordinary people’s magic would mix with other sources they released into their surroundings. Not being able to cast magic had its minor advantages, after all.
After a short walk among the fields, he arrived home. His restaurant had recently become quite popular, and with the money he earned, he was improving his small cabin and buying new equipment. Tired, Vulren headed to his room, changed his clothes, grabbed a book from the pile next to his bed, and lay down. Sundays were his only day off, so he wanted to enjoy it a little. Before tackling other tasks, he spent a few hours relaxing and reading.
As the sun dipped lower, he rose from his bed and went to the small alchemy table he had set up in the corner of the living room, preparing to experiment with the horn he had taken from the Giant Wolf. He began grinding the horn into powder using a mortar made of hard stone placed on the corner of the table. Although the horn was as tough as rock, it couldn’t withstand Vulren’s forceful strikes for long. After transferring the gray powder into a glass jar, he gathered the other necessary ingredients.
The potion he aimed to make was a powerful energy elixir, usually used to replenish and strengthen the energy of mounts like horses. However, humans avoided using it due to its side effects, which could lead to permanent damage—or even death—by overburdening the muscles. Vulren, whose muscles were more developed than most, believed he could withstand the potion’s side effects. Moreover, he could alter some of the ingredients based on his experiments.
Finally, after gathering the herbs, powders, and liquids he needed, Vulren began crafting the potion in various oddly shaped glass containers. He ground some herbs into powder and extracted the juice from others. As the strange liquid changed colors, Vulren shook, mixed, and heated it. After about an hour of following the recipe in the alchemy book, he had created a potion that looked identical to the one depicted in the book.
Once he poured the potion into a glass vial, he stepped into the yard and did some stretching exercises. Then, he put on the vest he had made from black larva silk collected from a Titantula—an enormous and deadly spider monster—and wrapped the remaining silk fabric around his wrists, legs, arms, and neck. The black larva silk was highly flexible but also incredibly heavy.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Taking a deep breath, Vulren began running on the road circling the fields. After only ten minutes of running, he was out of breath. He pulled the vial from his pocket, opened it, and downed the potion. The foul-tasting liquid immediately caused a tingling sensation and immense pressure in all his muscles, organs, and bones. It felt as though his muscles had come alive and were trying to burst out of his body. The pressure continued to build, and his breathing became increasingly labored.
Soon, he felt a warm liquid trickling from his upper lip and dripping from his chin—his nose was bleeding. He thought what a stupid thing he had done, he had thought he was a little bit special. No, he wanted to believe he was special. Was this how it would end? As memories flashed before his eyes, Vulren focused on his breathing. After a few seconds, the muscles in his neck started to choke him, as though his body was trying to strangle him. If it lasted much longer, his heart would be next. The excruciating pressure his muscles exerted on his body was unbearable.
Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Vulren felt his muscles begin to relax. His throat opened first, followed by his chest, and finally, the rest of his muscles returned to normal. When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground, drenched in sweat. Trembling, he stood up, still dizzy from what had happened. In a shaky voice, he muttered, “Just as planned,” before collapsing and fainting.
When he regained consciousness, the sun had already set. Vulren got up and walked home. His head throbbed, but oddly, he felt energized. “I should probably reduce the potion’s dose next time,” he thought as he threw himself onto the living room couch. Once the shock of the ordeal faded, he realized he was starving.
He went to the pantry, grabbed a handful of eggs, meat, and vegetables, and headed to the kitchen. He was always a big eater, but he had never been this hungry before. He set 23 eggs, nearly a kilogram of meat, and a variety of vegetables on the counter. He ground the meat into mince, chopped the vegetables, and melted butter in a large pan on the stove. First, he added the meat, then the vegetables, and finally, he cracked and whisked all the eggs.
After a short time, the egg dish was ready. Vulren reheated a pot of rice from the fridge and mixed it with the eggs. There was enough food to feed a large family comfortably, yet it still didn’t seem like enough. Grabbing the largest spoon he could find, he began shoveling the egg and rice mixture into his mouth like a grave digger tossing dirt. The pot’s contents dwindled, but Vulren’s hunger did not.
After finishing the entire pot, he drank two liters of water in one go. His stomach was bloated like a balloon, but at last, he felt full. Exhausted, he trudged to his room like an old man with one foot in the grave and collapsed onto his bed. He tried to sleep, but strangely, he wasn’t the least bit tired.
After lying in bed for an hour, Vulren couldn’t take it anymore. He turned on the light crystal he had purchased with his savings, grabbed his notebook, and began writing down notes about the potion. After a while, he grew bored of sitting at home, but according to the moon’s position, there were still a few hours before sunrise. He couldn’t stand it anymore, though. It felt like bugs were crawling under his skin.
He donned his Titantula silk vest and other fabric pieces once more and headed out for another run. Since he lived far from the village center, the surroundings were pitch dark, so he decided to run closer to the center. The potion’s energy boost was overwhelming—he simply couldn’t sit still. Despite the weight of the silk, he quickly reached the village center.
The streets were empty except for the bar alley, making the village feel calm and beautiful. Yet Vulren couldn’t forget the daily humiliations he endured here. No matter how hard he worked, someone always had something to say to him. Earlier today, he had barely managed to run for ten minutes with the silk, but now, even after twenty minutes, his body showed no signs of fatigue.
Pain and near-death experiences aside, the potion was impressive. Vulren wandered aimlessly through the streets, eventually finding himself in the poor part of the village—a place no one dared to visit. His parents, especially his father, had strictly warned him and Leena to stay away from here. Most of the village’s crimes occurred in this area. Vulren had ventured here a few times out of curiosity but had never encountered any trouble. Initially, he didn’t understand why, but he later came up with some theories. Despite the high crime rate, no one dared to perform major magic within the village. Only a few minor spells were cast so that the guards wouldn't catch them. This meant that physical fights were more common than magic, and that was exactly Vulren's area.
Despite his young age, Vulren had a sturdy build, and when he hid his face, he looked no different than an adult. The houses were gradually turning into shanties, and the streets were narrowing. After a few minutes of walking, nothing remained of the beautiful and friendly village of Elred. Gangs, alcoholics, and drug addicts wandered the streets. As the silks felt that they grew heavy, Vulren took them off and stuffed them into his bag.
Without the silks, he felt much lighter and more comfortable. He placed his hand on the hunting knife at his waist and thought, "If someone attacked me, could I kill them? I've killed plenty of monsters, but killing a human is different. I hope I don't have to.".
He proceeded carefully through the filthy and narrow streets, moving further away from the safer parts of the village where danger increased. Passing by damp and dilapidated houses, he heard the sounds of a fight coming from the distance. Just as he was about to turn around and walk away, he heard a woman's scream, and he hesitated. After a few seconds of thinking, he decided to give in to his curiosity and go see what was happening.
An old man holding a bottle was yelling at a young girl with short brown hair, along with two small children clinging to her. He was swinging the beer bottle around. As Vulren got closer, he began to hear the man's words: "What do you mean you don't have enough money? Am I giving you a place to stay for nothing, useless bitch?" The girl had a bloody nose, and the two children were crying. When the old man grabbed the girl's hair and lifted her up, the children cried even harder.
The girl replied, "Conall was sick. I had to get him medicine, or he would have died!"
The man smashed the bottle against the wall and angrily said, "Your lies don't fool me. Now you'll see what it's like to spend my money!" Vulren couldn't stand watching as the man brought the broken bottle closer to the girl's left eye, so he stepped out from his hiding spot. He stood silently next to the man, not really having a plan for what to do next. Should he tell him to stop or just attack? As he thought, things took a strange turn. The man, growing even angrier, yelled, "Who the fuck are you?"
Vulren, flustered, pointed at the girl still being held by the man and said, "Excuse me, sir, but you shouldn't be doing this." He immediately regretted the panicked words. The man laughed and said, "Mind your business, freak."
He aimed the bottle back at the girl. But this time, Vulren didn't say anything. He just grabbed the man's arm tightly. Surprised, the man tried to pull away, saying, "Let go of me, you bastard." But Vulren kept squeezing harder. After a short while, the man screamed in pain and was forced to drop the girl and the broken bottle. Vulren, struggling to control his strength due to the potion, didn't let go until he heard a loud cracking sound and a pained scream. He could have kept squeezing until the man's arm snapped, but when the girl shouted, "That's enough," he released him.
The man writhed in pain, clutching his arm, while Vulren wanted to get to safety. He briefly said, "Follow me," before walking down the alley towards the center of the village. The girl asked, "Who are you, sir?" "Where are we going?" "If you're asking for something in return, I have nothing to give." Vulren kept his answers short and focused on his surroundings. After a few minutes, they reached the safer parts of the village.
A few streets ahead was a tavern, and he planned to get a room for them there. After making sure no one was around, they sat down on a nearby bench.
While the girl tried to calm the crying children, Vulren spoke, "My name is Vulren, Vulren Ravanan. I saw you while I was walking, and I couldn't just leave without helping." The girl wiped the blood from her nose and replied, "I'm glad to meet you. My name is Sylmare Cairis, and these are my little siblings, Conell and Lusha. Thank you so much for your help, sir, but I don't want to get you into trouble."
Vulren smiled. "Don't worry, nothing will happen to me. Are you sure you'll be okay? I don't think that man will be happy about this." Sylmare petted the head of the little girl who was clinging to her and continued, "That damn bastard is my father. Or at least he's supposed to be. He spends all the money on gambling or alcohol. And he says I have to work to pay off his gambling debts. I hate him, but I have no other place to go."
Vulren felt sad for the girl. His life hadn't been easy either, but at least he was free. He then turned to the little children and asked, "Are you hungry? I brought some extra food. Can you help me finish it?" Sylmare tried to refuse in a fluster, but the children's growling stomachs were on Vulren's side. He pulled out three food containers, kept one for himself, and gave the rest to Sylmare.
Sylmare thanked him sincerely, then opened the container. She and the children stared at the food for a moment, amazed. When the children started eating eagerly, Vulren joined them. After tasting the food, Sylmare's eyes widened in surprise. "This is amazing! Did your wife made this?" Vulren froze, surprised, and replied, "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm only 13."
Typically, a Myrill would get married around the age of 16 or 17, and Vulren still had a lot of time ahead of him. Hearing this, Sylmare choked a little on her food and then looked at him, "Wait, you're a year younger than me?" Vulren shrugged and replied, "I guess so." He closed the empty food container and put it back in his bag. "Actually, I made the food. I run a small restaurant in the village center. I'll give you the address on a piece of paper. You can come by anytime."
Once the other containers were empty, Vulren packed them into his bag. After a short, "Follow me," he started walking again. After a while, they arrived at the tavern. It was a three-story wooden building, much like most of the houses in the village. They went inside, and while Vulren talked to the receptionist, Sylmare and the children sat on a chair, waiting.
A few minutes later, Vulren returned with a key. "Room 8. You'll stay here for a week. I'll come by occasionally to check in. Here's the address to my restaurant." He handed them a piece of paper and the key. Sylmare frowned and said, "I'm sorry, but I can't accept this for free. It's too much."
Vulren, already tired from everything, didn't want to argue with Sylmare's stubbornness. To cut the conversation short, he said, "If I expand my restaurant, you could help me as a waitress. What do you think?" Sylmare smiled and responded, "Thank you for everything, Vulren." Her nose was still a bit red, but the bleeding had stopped. When Vulren saw her smiling, he couldn't help but think how cute she actually looked.
Without saying anything, he waved goodbye and left. As he stepped out of the inn, the day was beginning to brighten, and people were opening their shops. He decided to visit Mrs. Malonne after stopping by his home. The cool morning air greeted him as he walked toward his house.
After some time, he arrived home, placed his bag by the door, and collapsed into the couch. He was mentally exhausted from not having slept the night before, but physically, he felt fine, almost as if his muscles hadn't moved at all. "If this potion doesn't keep me awake for a week, I might even start liking it," he thought, then wandered around his house, tidying up. He rarely had so much free time. He still needed to visit Ms. Malonne, train in the forest, and head to the restaurant.
He tried to rest for about an hour, but as he couldn't fall asleep, he got up and headed toward Ms. Malonne's farm. After seeing a few fruit trees and animals walking around, he called out for her, but strangely, she was nowhere to be found. He thought maybe he was just worrying for nothing, but after calling her name, there was still no answer. He climbed over the fence and started looking around, but found nothing. When knocking on her door got no response, lastly he decided to check the barn.
When he opened the heavy barn doors, he found Mrs. Malonne lying unconscious in the hay. He rushed to her, checked her pulse, and found that she was alive but unconscious. He quickly carried her through an open window and laid her on the couch. Having read a few medical books, he tried to diagnose her. She had a high fever, difficulty breathing, and redness and bruising around her joints. It could only mean one thing: poison.