His grip on his fork tightened for a moment, but he quickly loosened it. No point saying it out loud—Angeline would just start her usual nagging. Besides, whether Vul was a monster or not, it didn't change anything.

"She's amazing, isn't she?" Angeline's voice broke his thoughts. She beamed at Vul like a proud older sister. "You're picking things up so quickly, Vul! Maybe we should teach you how to serve drinks next!"

Vul's red eyes flicked to Angeline, blinking once, twice—silent, but listening.

Stefan exhaled through his nose and stood up, pushing his chair back.

Angeline looked up, confused. "Hey—where are you going? You're not even gonna finish the cake my dad made for you?"

Stefan glanced at the untouched slice on his plate. Then at Vul. "Give it to her." He turned toward the door. "I've got a quest to finish. I'll be back late."

As he reached for the handle, a gruff voice called out from the nearest table.

"Hah! Leavin' so early, Stefan?"

A drunk man, heavyset with a thick beard and a face like a well-worn boot, swayed slightly in his seat. His clothes were stained with ale, and his nose was red from one too many drinks. He grinned lazily. "What is it? Headin' to a brothel this early in the mornin'?"

Angeline rolled her eyes. "By all means, let's keep breakfast classy."

Stefan smirked, glancing back. "What can I say? Some of us wake up ambitious."

The drunk let out a hoarse laugh, slapping his knee. "Hah! That's why I like you, Stefan!"

Stefan gave a lazy two-finger salute and stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Vul, who had been completely still, suddenly moved.

Without a word, she placed her plate down and dashed forward, trying to catch up. But just as she reached the exit—

Thud.

The door shut in front of her.

She stopped, staring at the wooden door in silence.

The drunken man, watching the whole thing, let out a chuckle. "Hah! Is that Stefan's kid?" He squinted at Vul. "They don't look nothin' alike."

Angeline snickered, leaning back in her chair. "Of course not! She's way too well-behaved."

The man barked a laugh, shaking his head.

Angeline patted the seat beside her. "C'mon, Vul. Let's eat before my dad thinks we hate his cooking."

Vul turned her head slightly, her crimson eyes lingering on the closed door for a few more seconds before silently making her way back to the table.

The road was bumpy, and the scent of hay filled the small space inside the wagon. Hidden beneath a pile of trade goods and sacks of flour, Stefan remained still, listening to the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves against the dirt path. His ride into the village was, as always, courtesy of Alex Truvor—a traveling merchant from another kingdom.

Alex owed him his life. Years ago, during one of his journeys, he had nearly been crushed under the massive club of a wandering Cyclops. Stefan had happened to be in the right place at the right time—or the wrong place, depending on how one saw it—and cut the creature down before Alex became a permanent stain on the road. Since then, Alex had helped Stefan slip past Adanile's tight security, smuggling him into the village under the guise of simple cargo.

The wagon rolled to a slow stop. Then—stomp, stomp.

That was the signal.

Stefan pushed himself up, shifting aside some burlap sacks, and quietly hopped out of the wagon. He landed with ease, stretching his shoulders before taking a moment to fix his clothes.

His outfit was simple but rugged—a black, sleeveless tunic with a hood, worn over a long-sleeved gray shirt. A belt strapped diagonally across his chest held his daggers, and his dark trousers were tucked into knee-high leather boots, scuffed from travel. His coat, long and tattered at the edges, barely concealed the various knives and vials attached to his belt.

As he adjusted his gloves, he glanced at Alex, giving him a simple nod before lightly tapping two fingers against his temple—a silent gesture of gratitude.

Alex smirked, tipping his hat. "Don't go gettin' yourself caught now."

Stefan rolled his eyes and turned away, disappearing into the village crowd.

The Adanile Kingdom's village was unlike any other. It stretched far and wide, filled with towering structures carved from pristine white stone. Markets bustled with vendors selling fresh produce, exotic spices, and enchanted trinkets. Golden banners lined the streets, embroidered with the symbol of Queen Cole'Lai, whose statue loomed over the town square—her expression was eerily serene, her hands raised as if bestowing a blessing upon her people. But beneath her watchful gaze, the symbols of the God of Calamity were ever-present—etched onto every building, every streetlamp, even burned into the wooden doors of homes.

For a moment, one could almost forget the horrors that lurked beneath the surface.

Almost.

At the heart of the village stood a display that snapped Stefan back to reality.

A spear.

And on top of it, a head.

The man's face was twisted in a grotesque grimace, his eyes bulging slightly, lips parted as if frozen mid-scream. His once-expensive purple garments were now soaked in blood, draped around the base of the spear like a macabre decoration. Flies buzzed around the lifeless flesh, the dried blood on his chin cracking under the morning sun.

It was the nobleman from yesterday.

Stefan exhaled sharply through his nose. They caught him fast.

Villagers passed by without so much as a glance. A few slowed down, their gazes flicking up at the impaled head before continuing their day, neither horrified nor sorrowful. One elderly woman even muttered, "About time," before heading into a bakery.

Stefan observed them carefully. No fear. No disgust. Just... acceptance.

Is this normal to them?

He rubbed his jaw, glancing once more at the lifeless nobleman.

Well, there goes a potential client.

After a while, with a satchel full of freshly bought potions, Stefan gave the village one last look.

Despite its dark underbelly, the place was oddly... beautiful. Flowers decorated nearly every street, blooming in windowsills, hanging from balconies, and filling every garden in sight. The scent of petals mixed with the crisp morning air, creating a strange contrast to the severed head still displayed in the town square.

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He had heard whispers before—Queen Cole'Lai was obsessed with flowers, particularly red ones. Her subjects honored her love for them by planting them in excess, turning the entire village into a living bouquet. It wasn't just an act of devotion; it was an unspoken rule. To let a flower wilt or to refuse to plant them was almost seen as an insult to the queen herself.

Stefan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. What a strange kingdom.

With nothing else keeping him, he tightened the strap of his satchel and made his way toward the village gates.

The moment he stepped past the towering white walls, the scenery changed.

The path ahead led straight into a dense forest that stretched far beyond the outskirts of the kingdom. Unlike the bright, cultivated village, the woods were wild—trees twisted into unnatural shapes, their branches clawing toward the sky. The deeper the forest went, the darker it became, even in broad daylight.

Monsters roamed here.

Lots of them.

Most creatures never dared to leave, bound by the sigils of the God of Calamity placed at the forest's edge. Queen Cole'Lai had ensured that those markings acted as a barrier, keeping the beasts contained. Any who tried to cross would be punished—twisted into something worse or simply torn apart by unseen forces.

But some monsters were strong.

Too strong.

And when those rare few managed to resist the sigil's power... that's where Stefan came in.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the forest, disappearing into the shadows between the trees.

The forest was alive.

Towering trees twisted unnaturally, their bark cracked like open wounds, seeping with a thick, amber-like sap. Vines coiled around the trunks, some pulsing faintly, almost as if they were breathing. Strange blue mushrooms sprouted along the roots, glowing faintly in the dimness.

Stefan moved with practiced ease, his boots crunching against fallen leaves and brittle twigs. He had been through these woods more times than he could count. He knew which paths to take, which trees to avoid, and which sounds meant trouble.

Even the fairies recognized him.

Tiny, glowing creatures flitted between the branches, their wings leaving behind trails of golden dust. A few of them giggled as he passed, whispering his name in their delicate, chiming voices. They had taken quite the liking to him over the years, much to his amusement.

But there was no time for pleasantries.

Stefan's gaze sharpened the moment he spotted it.

A hulking black wolf, its fur like ink, rippling as if it were made of living shadows. Licks of blue flames flickered across its body, dancing between its shoulders and curling around its legs like ghostly wisps. Its eyes, hollow and abyssal, gleamed with an unnatural hunger.

And between its enormous, bloodstained fangs... was the limp, discolored corpse of a newborn.

The sight would have turned the stomach of any other man.

But Stefan had seen worse.

The wolf—this blue devil—had been terrorizing nearby villages, leaving nothing but charred ruins and empty cradles in its wake. A monster like this couldn't be reasoned with.

As if sensing him, the beast froze mid-bite. Its blazing eyes locked onto Stefan, muscles coiling, prepared to strike.

Stefan didn't bother hiding. He stepped forward, shoulders relaxed, eyes sharp.

"Well, you've certainly got an expensive appetite," he drawled, cracking his neck. "I don't suppose you'd consider a change in diet?"

The wolf responded with a guttural snarl, its flames burning hotter.

Stefan exhaled, his hand moving to the hilt of his weapon. With a swift pull, he unsheathed his sword—Igniter.

The moment the blade was free, fire erupted along its edge, casting a furious orange glow against the darkened forest. The warmth licked at Stefan's fingers, but he was used to it. He tightened his grip, eyes locked on the snarling beast before him.

"Didn't think so."

The flames roared to life, and the fight began.

The wolf vanished.

One second, it was snarling before him, flames licking hungrily at the ground. The next, it burst into a swirling puff of black smoke, dispersing into the air like a dying breath.

Stefan didn't flinch.

He had seen magic like this before—trickery designed to unnerve the weak. Instead of panicking, he closed his eyes for a brief second, listening. The forest around him creaked and whispered. The fairies had gone silent, sensing the predator lurking within the shadows.

Then—

A flicker.

Behind him.

Stefan twisted just in time, raising Igniter to block a set of glistening fangs that snapped inches from his throat. Sparks flew as the beast's burning claws scraped against the flaming blade. The impact sent Stefan skidding backward, boots digging into the damp soil.

The wolf didn't pursue.

Instead, it disappeared again, vanishing into another puff of black smoke.

Stefan exhaled through his nose. "Great."

This wasn't an ordinary monster. It wasn't just attacking blindly. It was watching him. Calculating. Adapting.

It tested his reactions, noted his speed, and adjusted accordingly.

Stefan's grip on Igniter tightened. He reached into his pouch, pulling out a small vial of blue liquid. With one swift motion, he uncorked it with his teeth and downed the potion. Immediately, a rush of energy surged through his body, sharpening his senses and quickening his reflexes.

The wolf materialized again—this time from above.

Stefan barely had time to move as it came crashing down from the trees, claws extended, its blue flames igniting the very air around it. He rolled to the side, avoiding the impact as the ground where he once stood erupted into a wave of fire.

The heat licked at his skin, but Stefan didn't waver.

He was beginning to understand now.

The way the wolf moved. The way it studied him before each strike. The way it learned.

It reminded him of someone.

Of her.

For a split second, Vul's face flickered in his mind—her wide, curious eyes, the way she mimicked speech, the way she watched.

Stefan clenched his jaw.

"Tch... Figures."

This fight wasn't going to be easy.

And he hated to admit it—

But this thing was smarter than he had anticipated.

The wolf vanished again.

Stefan narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on Igniter. The moment it disappeared, the world around him felt unnervingly quiet—no wind, no rustling leaves, just the faint embers of dying blue flames flickering around the clearing.

Then—

A shadow streaked toward him from the left.

Stefan pivoted, swinging his sword, but the wolf was already gone, leaving only a swirl of black smoke. It was fast. Too fast.

Another attack came from behind. He barely ducked in time as burning claws slashed through the air, singeing the tips of his hair. He countered with a quick upward swing, but once again, the wolf vanished before his blade could land.

Stefan exhaled sharply. This bastard...

It was toying with him.

Another blur—this time from above.

Stefan threw himself forward, rolling onto his feet just as the beast crashed down where he once stood, leaving deep scorch marks in the earth.

As soon as he turned, it lunged again.

This time, Stefan was ready.

He didn't dodge. Instead, he met the attack head-on, raising Igniter in a defensive stance. The moment the wolf's flaming jaws clamped down, his sword burst into bright orange fire, burning into the creature's mouth.

The wolf howled in agony, its body twisting violently. But Stefan wasn't done. He kicked the beast's side with all his strength, sending it skidding across the clearing.

The wolf snarled, shaking its head, black smoke curling from its burnt mouth. It glared at Stefan, no longer just testing him—now, it was angry.

Good.

Stefan wiped the sweat from his brow, smirking. "Not fun when you're the one getting hurt, huh?"

The wolf's muscles tensed. Then—

It lunged again, faster than before.

But Stefan had already seen through it.

Instead of dodging, he sidestepped at the last second and brought Igniter down in a sweeping arc. The blade connected, slicing through flesh. Blood sprayed across the dirt as the wolf let out another pained howl, its shoulder now bearing a deep, searing wound.

But it wasn't done yet.

The wolf disappeared into smoke again, reappearing at the edge of the clearing. This time, its blue flames roared brighter, spreading wildly across its body like an uncontrollable wildfire.

Stefan's smirk faded.

Then, without warning, the wolf howled—

And the entire area erupted into blue flames.

Fire consumed everything. Trees, grass, even the air itself seemed to burn with an eerie, unnatural glow. Stefan immediately jumped back, covering his mouth as thick smoke filled his lungs. The heat was unbearable, almost suffocating.

The wolf had set the entire battlefield ablaze.

Stefan cursed under his breath, quickly pulling out another potion—a heat resistance elixir. He uncorked it and downed the liquid in one gulp. The burning sensation on his skin dulled, but the flames still roared around him, closing in.

And in the middle of it all—

The wolf stood, its blue eyes locked onto him.

It was panting, its body still bleeding from Stefan's attack, but the fire surrounding it burned even stronger.

This was its final stand.

Stefan clicked his tongue. "You're one stubborn bastard, I'll give you that."

The wolf snarled.

Then, for the last time, it charged.

But Stefan wasn't planning on dragging this out any longer.

He planted his foot firmly into the ground and raised Igniter high. The flames around his blade intensified, glowing even brighter than the wolf's.

As the beast lunged, jaws open wide, Stefan swung downward with all his strength.

His flaming sword met the wolf's burning body—

And sliced clean through.

The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, extinguishing the flames in an instant. The wolf's body split into two before it even had the chance to react. Its blue fire flickered one last time before vanishing completely.

For a moment, everything was silent.

Then—

With a dull thud, the severed remains of the wolf collapsed onto the ground.

Stefan exhaled, lowering his sword. His body ached, his clothes were covered in soot, and sweat dripped down his face. But he was still standing.

And the wolf wasn't.

He looked down at the corpse, watching as the blue flames slowly faded from its body.

"Damn," he muttered. "What a pain in the ass."

With a tired sigh, he sheathed Igniter and turned away. His job here was done.

Now, it was time to head back.