He was returning home with calm steps, thinking about the promise he had made to Griffin. Shortly after, he arrived home and threw himself onto his bed; his entire body ached. He had wrapped his broken arm and was examining the potion book in his bag. He began searching for the name "Titantula" in the antidotes section, but despite going through the entire section twice, he found nothing.
Unable to find what he was looking for, he decided to conduct a more thorough research at the library the next morning. He closed the book and tried to sleep. His body was in pain, and he was mentally exhausted, but the cursed energy prevented him from sleeping.
It wasn’t too late yet, but since the library closed at sunset, it wasn’t very likely that he could do much more about the antidote. So, he decided to visit Sylmare. He changed his torn clothes and wrapped fresh bandages around his arm. Before leaving the house, he prepared a few things to pack into food boxes.
Cooking with one arm was quite difficult, and he wouldn’t be able to open his restaurant for a while. After filling the rectangular food boxes, he left the house and headed toward the bar where Sylmare was staying.
The village streets were filled with people—drunk people. But most were minding their own business and having fun. Doesn’t everyone deserve to have fun sometimes? Speaking of fun, Vulren wondered what he himself enjoyed. Learning new things and wandering in the forest pleased him, but those couldn’t exactly be called “fun."
He had been alone since childhood because he had no friends. Kids his age hung out at school, joking around and spending money their families gave them, while Vulren was getting brutally beaten by a herd of rhinos to save his neighbor’s life and then begging a Griffin to spare his life.
But Vulren was aware that the world wasn’t fair—some had fun, while others suffered. Vulren thought, “At least I like my job and living a peaceful life.” But then he remembered how many times he had faced death in the past few days and crossed out the "peaceful life" part. He didn’t have time for fun anyway.
After walking through the village streets for a while, he arrived at the tavern where he had left Sylmare. When he entered through the door, he saw men sitting at tables, drinking and eating. The place was quite crowded. Wondering if Sylmare had any trouble, Vulren climbed the stairs and knocked on the door of her room.
The young girl, who opened the door cautiously, relaxed when she saw Vulren’s face.
“Welcome, come in,” she said with a angry face. Vulren, unsure why she was angry, quietly entered. Two small children ran to greet him, and Vulren patted their heads before sitting on one of the chairs.
Sylmare, sitting on the bed in the room, began asking questions in an irritated tone, “I went to the address on the paper today, but it was closed. Is that really your restaurant? How are you running a restaurant at 13?”
Vulren took out the food containers from his bag and placed them on the table. Then he rolled up the sleeve of his overly long robe and showed his bandaged hand. “I broke my arm, so I had to close the restaurant for a while,” Vulren replied.
The angry expression on the girl’s face instantly turned to concern, and she came closer to examine his arm. When she saw Vulren’s muscular, bandaged arm, she couldn’t believe he was only 13 one more time. “How did this happen? Are you okay? Is it permanent? Is it related to saving me?” she began bombarding him with questions.
Not wanting to deal with these overwhelming questions, Vulren turned to her and calmly said, “A three-ton rhino ran over me.” Thinking Vulren was joking, Sylmare got angry, but before she could say anything else, she opened the food containers on the table and distributed them to the children.
Then she turned to Vulren and said, “You need to be more careful. I still don’t know you well, but I am sure there are many people who care about someone as good as you. If something happens to you, I’m sure they’ll be very upset.”
Vulren, responding to the pretty mature girl for her age, said, “Thank you for your concern, Sylmare, but I’m really fine.” Sylmare’s face had turned slightly red, but Vulren didn’t notice because he was busy eating.
Sylmare turned her face away and replied in a flustered tone, “I’m not worried about you! I just don’t want the person who saved me and my siblings to die for a stupid reason, that’s all!” Vulren thought to himself, “Is it okay if it’s not a stupid reason?.”
The children were eating their food. Vulren, who had already finished his meal, broke the silence by asking, “Any news from your father or the gang he owes money to, Sylmare?” At that moment, Sylmare, who was busy with her sister, answered without looking at Vulren, “You can call me Syl for short. And no, there’s still no news from them. Honestly, that’s even more worrying.”
After everyone finished eating, Vulren packed the food containers back into his bag and said, “I’m leaving now. Stay away from suspicious people and stick to the safer parts of the village. I’ll try to help you find a job within the next week.” As he was leaving, he heard Syl call out from behind, “Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”
Walking back home through the streets, Vulren thought, “Even my mother never worried about me this much. What a strange girl.” He decided to ask Kavrala for help in finding Syl a job. He hadn’t told her about the Griffin yet and didn’t plan to.
After walking for a while, he finally reached his house. He went inside, hung his jacket on the hook by the entrance, and sat on the couch. His broken arm still hurt, but the pain had subsided compared to before. He picked up a book and started reading—it was about Griffins.
In history, there were a few very powerful wizards who had befriended Griffins, but their numbers were quite limited. These creatures, whose height could reach up to three meters, had the upper body of an eagle and the lower body of a lion. In ancient times, it was said that a lion and a tiger fell into a magical pool, merging to create the first Griffin—though this was just a legend.
After finishing the Griffin section of the book about magical creatures, Vulren put the book down and went to the potion table in the corner of the living room. Using the recipes from the potion book, he brewed various potions. One of them was a mana potion, which restored the drinker’s magical power.
With the summer festival approaching, Kavrala was preparing for the tournament, and of course, Vulren was helping. To speed up Kavrala’s training, he was preparing a lot of mana potions. With these potions, they could train intensively until the tournament.
Last year’s second place was a 15-year-old boy named Gorduin Wysawarin. Gorduin was an ambitious boy who had narrowly lost to Kavrala in almost every tournament. Unable to accept losing to someone two years younger, Gorduin was furious.
Having suffered from Gorduin’s arrogance since childhood, Vulren also hated him. That’s why he wanted to make sure Gorduin didn’t win his final under-16 tournament. Although Vulren couldn’t perform magic himself, he had extensive knowledge about it from reading various magic books.
After researching what was needed to develop magical power, he realized how much of the school’s teachings were wrong. He didn’t know if they were doing this to prevent any individual from gaining too much power.
Hours of potion-making later, the sun began to rise, but Vulren still hadn’t slept. He was starting to regret drinking the energy potion, worrying about what would happen when its effects wore off.
After the sun rose, he got ready and left the house, heading toward Mrs. Malonne’s house. After walking a bit on the dirt road, he reached her wooden house surrounded by fences. He jumped over the fence and knocked on the door.
Mrs. Malonne opened the door and smiled when she saw Vulren. “Good morning, kid. Welcome,” she said before stepping outside. Vulren replied, “Good morning, Mrs. Malonne. How are you doing?” Mrs. Malonne, in an energetic tone, said, “I was quite weak at first, but after a good night’s sleep, I’m almost fully recovered.”
While helping Mrs. Malonne with her daily chores, Vulren tried to hide his broken arm. Thanks to his long-sleeved robe, he managed to do so easily and quickly finished the farm’s daily tasks.
After leaving the farm, he headed to the library with a few books he had brought from home. The village library was one of the most impressive structures in the village. Located quite close to the magic school, this stone tower-shaped building stood out compared to the other houses.
When he entered, he saw the grumpy librarian sitting at the desk. Neither of them was happy to see the other. The librarian had stopped talking to Vulren years ago because every time he tried to provoke him, Vulren’s annoying replies made it unbearable.
After placing the books from his bag on the librarian’s desk, Vulren climbed the stairs to the potions and medicine section. He spent almost the entire day skimming through nearly all the books there. His reading speed had increased significantly since he had been reading books since childhood.
Despite examining all the books on medicines and antidotes, he panicked when he couldn’t find an antidote for Titantula venom. If he couldn’t find the recipe, he would have to experiment on his own, which was a big problem.
He didn’t have enough time, resources, or test subjects to experiment with the potion. Then he remembered the doctor’s son, who was quite skilled at potion-making. But the sun was about to set, and it was too late to visit him.
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So, Vulren quickly returned home and nervously examined other antidote recipes. He hoped to derive something from them, but the significant differences between the recipes left him disappointed.
With his arm injured, he couldn’t train properly, which frustrated him. Unable to stand it any longer, Vulren put on his black training silks and began working out in his garden under a lamp.
Even with his injured arm, there were still many areas he could improve. After hours of working on his legs and core, he went back inside. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours, and he needed to find something to do. He started reading all the unread books
on his shelf.
He began jotting down things he thought might be helpful in his notebook. With the notebook open, he also noted down his encounter with the Griffin. While still writing, he saw the sunrise through the window and closed the notebook.
As usual, after visiting his neighbor, he collected the eggs, refilled the animal feed, and helped with various other tasks. Once the work was done, he set off toward the hospital.
Walking through the lively village streets in the morning, he could hear people whispering to each other as they glanced at him. Normally, he didn’t like being out during the village’s busiest hours, but after walking for a while, he finally reached the hospital.
He pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside, where he saw an old man sitting in the chair Zhoron had occupied the last time. Like everyone else in the village, the old man wasn’t happy to see Vulren. “How can I help you?” he asked in an unwilling tone.
When Vulren asked, “Is Zhoron here?” the man’s expression turned to surprise. “What business do you have with Zhoron? If possible, I’d prefer you not deal with my son,” he replied.
“I returned the potion book he lent me the other day, and I had a few questions about it,” Vulren said. Hearing the familiar voice from the lower floor of the hospital, Zhoron hurried downstairs.
Seeing Vulren, Zhoron himself was surprised. “How can I help you?” he asked. Vulren replied, “I brought back the book you lent me, and I wanted to ask a few questions about it. If you’re available, I’d really appreciate it if we could meet at the library.”
The old man began, “There’s no way—” but Zhoron cut him off, saying, “Of course! We can meet at noon.” Vulren said, “Great!” and immediately left, heading back to the library.
While continuing his research at the library, noon arrived. Sensing the familiar magical presence entering the library, Vulren went downstairs and brought the young man up to the floor where he had been conducting his research.
They sat together at a table filled with books, and Zhoron was the one to break the silence. “What’s going on, my friend? Is something wrong?” he asked. Without looking up from the book, Vulren said, “I need your help. You’re the best potion-maker I know in the village. No one else can do this.”
Leaning back and focusing on Vulren, Zhoron listened as he began to explain. “Do you know how to make an antidote for Titantula venom?” he started. The young doctor, surprised by the question, replied, “Normally, people exposed to Titantula venom die within seconds, so there’s no known antidote. But why do you need something like that?”
Vulren leaned forward and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?” Excited, Zhoron nodded without saying a word. Vulren continued quietly, “I found a young Inaric in the forest that was bitten by a Titantula. I want to help it.”
Inarics were venom-resistant creatures, a mix between a turtle and a porcupine. They could grow up to one and a half meters tall and were known for their magic-resistant, spiky shells. They fed on various snakes and giant spiders.
Zhoron whispered back, “I knew it! You can enter the forest! But how?” Vulren explained that his magical energy was so weak that the detection crystals didn’t notice him.
“I rarely go into the forest, and only to the safe areas,” he added. Zhoron, still shocked, said, “I’ll help you, my friend, but since this is the first time I’ll be making a new potion, there’s a chance I might fail.” Vulren replied, “We don’t have much time. We need to make this antidote quickly.”
The two of them got to work immediately. Vulren shared the important details he had learned from his recent research, and Zhoron, impressed by Vulren’s knowledge, shared some of his own insights.
After an hour of discussion, Zhoron said, “If I had some Titantula venom, it would be much easier to find the antidote. Anyway, I need to go now, or my father will get angry. Let’s meet here again tomorrow afternoon at four.” He stood up from the chair.
Finally, Vulren asked, “If I bring you some Titantula venom, can you really make the antidote?” The young doctor froze for a moment. “You can’t be serious, my friend. There’s no way you can get that venom,” he said. Vulren looked at him with a questioning expression, and eventually, Zhoron said, “If you can bring some, my chances of success will increase significantly. But I don’t want you to die for it. I still don’t know how you managed to find that flower. Are you like really powerful and hiding it from everyone?”
Vulren smiled and replied, “Ah, I wish that were the case, but unfortunately, it’s not. I’m more sneaky than powerful.” Zhoron went downstairs and left the library, and Vulren followed shortly after.
He set off toward the Titantula nest filled with crystals in the forest. After about an hour, he reached the village walls, and after another hour of walking through the forest, he arrived at the entrance of the cave.
The hidden cave entrance, covered in vines, radiated a high amount of magical energy. As he entered, he remembered the day he and Kavrala had stayed here. He had a plan to extract the venom: he would lure one of the spiders out and trap it outside.
Using materials he found around and a rope from his bag, he set up a simple trap. The trap would tie up the spider’s legs, immobilizing it for a while. After setting the trap, he ventured deeper into the cave through a narrow passage.
As he progressed, the spiderwebs on the walls grew denser. He waited near the path leading to the spider nest for a lone spider to appear. After about an hour of waiting, a pitch-black spider with red markings emerged.
The spider was about a meter tall, with eight enormous eyes scanning its surroundings. Vulren threw a stone at its head and immediately ran toward the exit. The spider chased him, and Vulren couldn’t help but shudder at the sight of it. It was much faster than he had anticipated.
As the spider gained on him, Vulren increased his speed. Normally, he couldn’t run this fast for so long without an energy potion, so his regrets about drinking it vanished instantly.
The trap was just ahead, but the spider was close behind. Seeing the narrow tunnel’s exit, Vulren leaped forward with all his might. The spider jumped at him but missed its target by a hair’s breadth as Vulren dodged at the last second.
Still unable to stand, Vulren watched as the spider charged at him again, but this time, it got caught in the rope. Before it could understand what had happened, all eight of its legs became entangled, and it began thrashing wildly.
Vulren stood up and approached the spider, which hissed and bared its sharp fangs, but it no longer frightened him. He pulled out his shiny hunting knife and stabbed it into a small, soft spot on the spider’s head, killing it in one swift motion.
After waiting for the spider’s convulsions to stop, he began cutting out the venom sac from its neck. Having never dissected a Titantula before, it took him half an hour, but he finally managed to extract the sac.
The venom was already starting to melt his gloves, so he quickly placed the sac into a glass jar. He exited the cave, washed up in a nearby river, and changed his clothes. Since there was still plenty of daylight left, he began gathering some medicinal herbs and mushrooms from the forest.
After hours of wandering and collecting plants, the sun was nearly setting. Vulren, still thinking about the Griffin, made his way back to the village. An hour later, he reached the village walls and performed his usual jump over them.
Soon after, he arrived home and placed the venom jar on a corner of his potion table. The energy potion had saved his life, but it also prevented him from sleeping. Days of sleeplessness had left Vulren mentally exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, not because he was tired. He lay down on his bed and tried to sleep for a few hours but failed.
He sat back at his desk and began writing in his notebook. He had a lot of work to do. If Zhoron didn’t have a place to experiment with the potion, Vulren planned to invite him to his house. So, he began tidying up and organizing his potion-making materials.
After a night spent writing in his notebook, cleaning, and reading, morning came again. Following his usual routine of visiting his neighbor, he went to the forest to train.
He spent a few hours training near the old tree he had frequented since childhood, then washed up in a river and began wandering the forest. After observing the behavior of a few monsters from a distance and taking notes, he returned to the village.
About an hour before the meeting time, he went to the library and sat at the table they had used last time, waiting. After reading for an hour, he sensed the magical presence entering the library.
When Zhoron came up the stairs and sat across from him again, his face was filled with excitement. Vulren, making sure no one was around, took out the jar containing Titantula venom from his bag and placed it on the table.
Zhoron’s eyes widened as he saw the jar. “You actually did it. I can’t believe you, man. You’re so mysterious,” he said. Vulren replied, “And I prefer to remain mysterious, so try not to ask too many questions.”
Zhoron examined the jar in his hand for a while, then asked, “Do we have a place to work on the potion? We definitely can’t use mine.” Vulren, expecting this question, said, “I have a small table at my house. Let’s go there. It’s out of sight and comfortable.”
After gathering the necessary books, they headed to Vulren’s house. After walking for a while, they reached a small wooden house away from the village center. When they entered, Zhoron looked around.
Vulren said, “The potion table is over here,” directing him to the table in the corner of the living room. Zhoron examined the table and commented, “Surprising. I expected something much simpler.”
After hours of testing and brainstorming, they finally produced a bright green liquid. Zhoron, unable to take his eyes off the liquid, said, “We did it. This must be the antidote. I need to write this down immediately.”
Vulren handed Zhoron a piece of paper, saying, “I already wrote down the recipe, don’t worry.” After reading the paper, the young doctor thanked Vulren, said goodbye, and left the house.
The sun had set again, and another sleepless night awaited Vulren. He spent the entire night producing enough antidote for the Griffin. Since the venom was so potent, making producing the antidote was quite challenging.
Watching the sunrise with tired eyes, Vulren began preparing to leave the house again. During his visit, Mrs. Malonne said, “You look very sleep-deprived, son. I don’t know what you’re dealing with, but I’m sure it’s important. But your health is more important—don’t forget that.”
Vulren, who was gradually breaking down day by day, set off toward the rhino fields with a large jar of antidote in his bag. After a long journey, he saw the leaves of the tree where the Griffin was staying.
This time, before entering the fields, he climbed a tree and shouted loudly, “HEEEY, I’M HERE!” All the rhinos turned toward him and were about to charge when they saw the majestic figure descending from the tree and scattered around.
Seeing the Griffin, Vulren climbed down and approached the magical—not so magical now—creature. Holding out the jar filled with the green liquid, he said, “The medicine is here. It tastes pretty bad, just a warning. You should be fully healed a few days after drinking this. I’ll come back to check on you.” He opened the jar.
The Griffin, who could easily detect lies in human speech, bent down and opened its sharp beak. Vulren poured the liquid into the creature’s mouth, and it made a face.
After the Griffin swallowed all the medicine, Vulren felt relieved and watched the creature fly back to its nest before heading home. On the way, he felt incredibly sleepy.
“Finally, I can sleep,” Vulren thought, but now he was worried about falling asleep in the middle of the forest. Fighting off sleep, he reached the village walls and immediately started running toward his house. Shortly after, he arrived home, quickly dropped his belongings, threw himself onto the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.