Betty and Albert stood frozen in place, watching in disbelief as their master prepared for what would surely be a deadly confrontation.

Betty and Albert stood frozen in place, watching in disbelief as their master prepared for what would surely be a deadly confrontation. The air crackled with tension, but Mr. F showed no sign of fear, even though he was outnumbered by the thieves.

Without warning, a thick root shot up from the ground, wrapping around Mr. F's torso like a protective coil. More roots followed, encasing his entire body until he was covered in a living armor of vines and bark. Only a slit for his eyes remained visible, peeking through the tight layers of nature. It was an odd sight—this human figure completely enveloped in brown tendrils—but the ominous power radiating from it made one thing clear: this was no ordinary defense.

In a flash, Mr. F sprang forward, and the ground erupted with more roots, which shot toward the thieves like the arms of an angry forest. The thieves readied themselves for the attack, but the roots were as hard as steel. One thief wasn't fast enough and found himself entangled. The vines tightened around him, dragging him beneath the earth with a muffled scream, his cries fading as the ground swallowed him whole.

The remaining thieves stood in horror, their eyes wide, but they had no time to dwell on their fallen comrade. More roots surged toward them, and they frantically fought to fend off the assault. The leader of the group, who held the prized sapling, could no longer stand by as his comrades were picked off.

With a grunt, he stepped forward, and his body began to change. His muscles bulged, hair sprouted all over his skin, and his nails grew into vicious claws. Tusks protruded from his mouth as his transformation completed in seconds. The man had turned into a massive boar, and with a feral roar, he charged at Mr. F.

The ground shook under the weight of the creature as it barreled forward, but Mr. F was undeterred. He raised his arms, and more roots burst from the earth, lashing at the boar. But the beast was unstoppable, swatting away the roots with its enormous tusks. The ground trembled as the boar slammed into Mr. F, knocking him back several meters.

Mr. F, however, held his ground, roots anchoring him to the earth. He gripped the boar's tusks, and the two forces—man and beast—clashed in a violent deadlock. The air rippled with the intensity of their struggle, neither willing to back down.

Just as it seemed Mr. F might gain the upper hand, the boar's body rippled again, growing even larger. The hair retreated, and the tusks twisted into a long, muscular trunk. The beast had transformed into a massive elephant, its sheer size ripping the roots apart as if they were nothing more than threads.

The elephant's weight pressed down on Mr. F, driving him back toward the tree in the center of the room. Mr. F knew he could tap into the power of the tree to fight back, but doing so would risk collapsing the entire dome.

Reluctantly, Mr. F made a decision he had hoped to avoid. His opponent was a Rank 7 shapeshifter mage, and Mr. F knew that the longer the fight dragged on, the more the balance would tip in the shapeshifter's favor.

With a deep breath, Mr. F began to gather an immense amount of magic from the surrounding air. The shapeshifter sensed the shift in power and quickly reverted to his ape form, retreating to his comrades.

"Why didn't you finish him off, boss?" one of the thieves spat, his voice trembling. "He killed Kenny! He has to pay for that!"

"Shut your mouth!" the leader snapped, his eyes never leaving Mr. F. He could feel the growing strength radiating from the mage. "We need to get out of here!"

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But before the thieves could make their escape, the roots around Mr. F fell away, crumbling to the ground like dried leaves. Stones from the earth levitated, forming around his hands like gauntlets made of solid rock.

What appeared to be a simple leap from Mr. F propelled him across the room with blinding speed. In an instant, he was beside one of the thieves, and with a single blow, the thief's head exploded, a gruesome display of power.

One by one, Mr. F moved between the thieves, his movements so fast it seemed as though he was teleporting. He struck down each thief with terrifying precision, targeting those furthest away first, as if mocking the remaining foes.

The leader, realizing his comrades were being slaughtered, transformed back into his boar form and charged at Mr. F. But this time, it wasn't an attack—it was an attempt to flee.

"Who is this old man?" the thief thought in a panic. "Why is there a Rank 8 mage in this city?" His eyes darted to the side, only to see Mr. F casually running alongside him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mr. F delivered a crushing blow to the boar's skull, but the thief's enhanced form saved him from instant death. He was sent flying, crashing into the ground near the terrified townsfolk, creating a massive crater.

The thief, now in his ape form once more, made one last desperate leap toward the citizens, his arm wrapping around Betty's neck like a noose.

"Not one step closer!" he snarled, tightening his grip on her throat. "I saw how you care about her. Do exactly as I say, or she dies!"

The air grew still, and Betty's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to tell Mr. F to ignore the threat, to kill the thief even if it meant her death, but the ape's grip was too tight for her to speak.

No one moved. No one dared to breathe, except for Mr. F, who continued his slow, deliberate steps toward the thief.

"You made three mistakes," Mr. F said suddenly, his voice calm but carrying an unyielding weight.

"First," he continued, "you hid in this city instead of fleeing."

"Second," he said, his tone turning ice cold, "you took my student hostage."

"And third," his voice now echoing inside the thief's mind, though Mr. F's lips never moved, "you crossed a Soul Mage."

The thief's eyes widened in horror. He tried to snap Betty's neck, but before he could, an agonizing pain surged through him. His soul was being torn apart, shredded into a thousand pieces. The thief crumpled to the ground, dead before he hit the floor, his body nothing more than an empty shell.

The onlookers were dumbfounded. How had the thief died? He had simply collapsed without a single blow landing on him.

Mr. F walked over to Betty, calmly retrieving the sapling from the thief's pouch. "Such a shame," he thought. "I had to destroy his soul to save Betty, which means I can't harvest it. But letting him live any longer would've brought the dome down and ruined everything."

Betty struggled to breathe, her throat raw from the ape's grip. Mr. F handed her a potion, and after a few gulps, her breathing eased.

"Thank you, Master," Betty rasped, her voice still hoarse. "You saved me again."

"That's what a master is for," Mr. F replied with a rare hint of softness. Betty managed a weak smile, and Albert, tears streaming down his face, rushed to their side. He had been terrified, fearing for both his and Betty's lives.

But Mr. F had no time for emotional reunions. Another quest notification appeared before him, and his eyes narrowed as he read it.

[Emergency Follow-Up Quest Generated: Lure the monsters out of the city]

[Quest Reward: ?]

Mr. F frowned. A follow-up quest? And the reward for the first quest hadn't even been revealed. "Was the sapling meaningless without completing this next step?" he wondered.

Feeling a twinge of annoyance, Mr. F decided to play along with the system's demands for now. But there was still one matter to attend to. His voice boomed, magically amplified to reach every corner of the dome.

"You will forget everything that has happened here," Mr. F commanded. "The only thing you will remember is that a masked man saved the dome from collapsing with a tree. The thieves? They were never here."

The eyes of every person in the dome glazed over as they fell into a brief, trance-like state. Moments later, they collapsed unconscious.

Mr. F exhaled deeply, feeling the toll it had taken on his reserves. "Thankfully, they're all under Rank 4. Otherwise, this would've drained me even further."

The magical aura surrounding Mr. F diminished, and he returned to his Rank 7 state. The battle had drained a considerable amount of his vitality, and he couldn't afford another encounter of that magnitude.

He gathered all the corpses in one place and burned them with fire magic. Then, he scattered their ashes using telekinesis.

With the sapling in hand, Mr. F leaped through the gap in the dome's ceiling, soaring into the sky. His destination? The forest beyond the city, where the next part of his quest would unfold.