After three days’ rest, we were ready to tackle the boss on the central island. It looked like a lush paradise, floating like a dream amidst the endless sea of clouds. Waterfalls cascaded from its cliffs in every direction, the sound of rushing water blending with the occasional cry of distant birds. It looked like something straight out of a storybook.
“This has to be it,” Mahya said, shielding her eyes as she stared up at the dense greenery crowning the island. “If there’s a boss anywhere, it’s there.”
We headed to one bridge to cross. It was slick with green algae—or maybe aquatic moss. Whatever it was, it coated the surface like a wet sponge, squishing slightly underfoot and very slippery, threatening to send us tumbling with every step. Every step required care and holding the equally slippery railing, and the tension of staying upright made the crossing feel far longer than it actually was. It was like walking on extra slippery ice.
Rue decided this was the perfect moment to taste the algae. I had no idea why—he wasn’t exactly a vegetable dog. One second, he was sniffing the moss with curiosity; the next, he’d taken a tentative lick.
The reaction was instant and absolutely priceless. Rue’s face scrunched up in pure disgust, and he immediately tried to spit out the offending moss. Unfortunately for him, it clung stubbornly to his tongue. His body shook with exaggerated sneezes, each one punctuated by frantic pawing at his snout.
“Yuhk! Thiff if diffguffting!” Rue wailed telepathically, but the way his mouth moved made it sound like he was actually speaking the words out loud. The garbled complaint and his sneezing and flailing sent Mahya into a fit of laughter. She had to lean against her rifle for support, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Rue, why—” I started, but I couldn’t finish. His paranoid tone, the sheer absurdity of the situation, and the expression of betrayal on his face broke my composure. I doubled over, laughing so hard I slipped on the bridge.
“Serves you right!” Mahya managed between giggles, swiping at her eyes. “Why would you taste that? It’s moss!”
Rue finally cleared his tongue, shooting Mahya and me a glare that screamed wounded pride. “It could be yummy! Now, it evil. Rue hate moss!” he declared. He tried to pad away regally, but slipped and fell on his side.
“Yeah, well, now you know,” I said, shaking my head with a grin as I helped him back to his feet. “Maybe next time, stick to food that doesn’t grow on wet bridges.”
Rue huffed, clearly unimpressed with my advice, and trotted ahead as if trying to pretend the whole thing had never happened, this time much more carefully. We followed, laughter echoing across the slippery bridge as we pressed toward the central island. The air felt different here—heavier, charged with more condensed mana. The level was so much higher that I felt a slight itch from my channels. It wasn’t bad, and I didn’t need to unravel one spiral, but I was glad that the last spiral I built wasn’t at the maximum quality.
Sometimes, it’s worth failing.
“All right,” Mahya said. “Let’s start the usual way. Circle the perimeter first and work our way inward.”
Rue wagged his tail enthusiastically, already sniffing around the edges of the jungle-like vegetation. “Find boss! Find yummy boss!” he declared, his tone excited.
Mahya rolled her eyes but smiled. “Let’s hope whatever we find is less ‘yummy’ and more ‘valuable.’”
Rue shot her a disgusted look but didn’t argue. With each passing day, I grew more grateful that dungeon monsters weren’t edible. If they had been, every dungeon run would have dragged on for days—or even weeks.
We moved in a loose formation, staying alert as we began our circuit of the island’s edge. The waterfalls created natural barriers in some places, forcing us to detour through the dense undergrowth. The trees here were massive, their roots gnarled and twisting like ancient serpents, and the air smelled of damp earth and blooming flowers.
After an hour of trudging through the outer ring, Mahya paused, wiping her brow. “Anything?” she called back to Al, who had taken point.
“Nothing,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with mild frustration. “No tracks, no signs of movement. Not even a hint of anything out of the ordinary.”
I frowned, glancing around. The place was too quiet. Even the usual ambient noises of insects and birds felt muted, as if the island had a sound-dampening effect. “Let’s head inward. Maybe the boss is further in.”
We adjusted our formation and pushed deeper into the island, following a winding trail almost deliberately designed to confuse us. The jungle thickened, the canopy above blocking the sunlight in patches, casting strange shadows that danced as the leaves swayed.
Hours passed, and we found nothing. There were no signs of life, traps, or mana disturbances—just endless trees, moss-covered rocks, and the occasional sound of a stream. Rue, who had started the day bounding ahead with excitement, was now plodding beside me, his tail drooping slightly.
“Rue bored,” he complained.
“Tell me about it,” I said, kicking a stray stone off the path and watching it disappear into the mist below.
Mahya jumped to a rocky outcrop, her rifle slung across her back. “Still nothing,” she reported, scanning the area. “If there’s something here, it’s hiding well.”
Al was crouched near a patch of plants, examining them with his usual thoroughness. “This place has a high concentration of mana, but it is dispersed rather than concentrated. The entire island is evenly saturated.”
I leaned against a tree. “What do we do if there’s no boss? Just sit here and wait for something to happen?”
Mahya hopped down from the rock, brushing dirt off her pants. “We keep searching. Every occurrence has a central beast.”
We continued circling inward, narrowing our search area with each pass, but the result was the same: nothing. The island’s beauty, waterfalls, and vibrant greenery were undeniable, but it felt like a joke.
When the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the island, we regrouped near one of the smaller waterfalls to rest. Rue flopped onto the ground dramatically, his tail flicking in annoyance.
“Stupid boss hiding. No play fair,” he grumbled, burying his nose in his paws.
Mahya sat down beside him, giving his ears a scratch. “Maybe it’s waiting for us to get frustrated and give up.”
“Well, it’s doing a great job,” I said, sitting on a flat rock. The sound of the waterfall was soothing, but it did little to ease the growing irritation. “Let’s call it for the day. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Al nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Agreed. But I suspect this island holds more secrets than we realize. We need to figure out where to look.”
I sighed, staring up at the vibrant canopy above us. “Yeah, sure. But I’d like a boss fight that doesn’t involve playing hide-and-seek.”
Rue huffed in agreement, his telepathic voice tinged with tired annoyance. “Boss better be yummy.”
We reached the bridge again the next day, and I turned to the group. “Wait here. I’ll go check if something has changed.”
“Invisible,” Mahya said, her tone firm.
I nodded, casting invisibility and fading from sight before taking off into the air. As I flew toward the island, my eyes scanned the terrain below, searching for any sign of the anchor beast. Everything looked as peaceful as ever—too peaceful. There were no tracks, no movement, not even a hint of what we were looking for. My frustration built as I widened my search, flying in bigger and bigger circles, each empty pass adding to the growing annoyance bubbling in my chest.
I heard distant shouting, frantic and panicked, and snapped my head toward the sound. An urgent tug from Rue came through our bond. Without hesitation, I shot toward the commotion, the voices growing louder every second.
When I finally reached them, the scene was a nightmare. A massive dragon dominated the skies above the group, its iridescent wings cutting through the air with terrifying precision. Its scales reflected the sunlight, shimmering like molten gemstones. An ever-shifting array of blues, greens, and fiery golds danced across its scales, making the dragon look forged from the elements.
It opened its maw, and sharp, wooden spikes erupted from it in a deadly barrage. The projectiles rained down like spears, ripping through the air with a whistling sound. The group scattered to avoid the onslaught, diving for cover as the spikes buried themselves in the surrounding ground.
I didn’t think. I acted. Summoning my lightning, I hurled a bolt directly at the creature. The air cracked with the force of the strike, the flash momentarily blinding even me. The blast struck the dragon’s side, halting its strafing run mid-flight. It let out a furious snarl, banking sharply as its deep violet eyes locked onto me. The intelligence and fury burning in that gaze made my stomach twist.
“Turn invisible and move away. I’ll handle it!” I sent the command telepathically, my tone brooking no argument. Without waiting for a reply, I shot higher into the sky, drawing the dragon’s attention away from the group. The beast shrieked in rage and launched another wave of wooden spikes. They streaked through the air like missiles, deadly and precise.
I twisted and dove, pushing my agility to its limits as I narrowly dodged the incoming barrage. The spikes tore past me, close enough to graze the air around me, their sharp tips gleaming menacingly in the sunlight. My muscles burned with the effort of each evasive maneuver, every movement a desperate attempt to stay one step ahead of the beast’s relentless assault.
The dragon roared again, a guttural sound that shook me to my core, and I clenched my jaw. This wasn’t going to be easy. But I wasn’t about to let it win.
The dragon twisted sharply in the air, its glossy wings rippling like light banners. Each beat of those enormous wings sent gusts of wind strong enough to make my flight turbulent. I dodged left and right, narrowly avoiding another volley of sharp wooden spikes. They came at me in dense clusters, screaming through the air as if alive. A close spike grazed past my shoulder, spinning me slightly off balance. The wyvern shrieked in triumph, its guttural cry shaking the air as it surged toward me.
“Alright, you oversized lizard, let’s see how you like this,” I growled, summoning another lightning bolt. This time, I channeled everything I had into it. My hands burned with energy as the crackling bolt arced from my palm, splitting the sky with a deafening boom. The lightning struck its chest, sending sparks dancing across its jewel-like scales.
The wyvern snarled in fury but didn’t fall. Instead, it twisted in mid-air, its whip-like tail slashing toward me. I barely ducked in time, the tip of the tail grazing the air above my head. My heart pounded as I tried to regain distance, circling upward to gain the high ground. The wyvern wasn’t having it. It surged after me with frightening speed, wings slicing through the air like knives.
I dove, my body tense as I sped downward, leading it closer to the cliffs. It followed, its massive body cutting through the sky as if it were weightless. I banked hard, the cliffs rushing toward me, and at the last second, I pulled up sharply, skimming the rock face by mere centimeters. The wyvern wasn’t as agile. Its wing clipped the edge of the cliff, throwing it off balance. It roared in frustration, flapping wildly to stabilize itself, and I used the opening to unleash another bolt of lightning. This one struck the base of its wing, and the creature howled in pain, faltering mid-air.
I threw both my hands forward and commanded the wind. Two twisters formed on both sides of the dragon and spun it between them, disorienting it. I could see they didn’t hurt it at all, only spun it in the air. I veered sharply around the island, using the cliffs as cover. Turning invisible, I slowed my flight and slipped carefully back toward the group. My chest heaved with effort, and my mana reserves were running low, but at least I’d bought us some time.
The moment I landed near them, I let my invisibility drop. My legs wobbled slightly as I touched down, but I forced myself to stand straight. “Don’t you think that dragon is a beast a little too dangerous for the level of this occurrence?” I asked, panting.
“It’s not a dragon,” Mahya corrected, her voice tight and her eyes fixed on the direction of the wyvern’s roars. “It’s a wyvern with wood or nature affinity—I’m not sure which.”
I shot her a flat look. “Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” I said, sarcasm dripping. “And how exactly do we fight this thing?”
Mahya and Al exchanged uneasy glances. Their silence was louder than any words they could have said. They shifted awkwardly and looked everywhere but at me. I could feel the tension radiating off them.
“Why are you two acting like I caught you stealing cookies?” I asked, frowning.
Mahya sighed, her shoulders slumping. “You see, we can’t fight it. Only you and Rue can.”
I blinked. “Come again?”
“The only way to fight a wyvern on the ground is to capture or imprison it,” Mahya explained reluctantly. “And the only spells we have to do that are nature-based. If its element is nature, those spells will break in seconds—especially at low levels. The fight has to happen in the air.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Anything else I should know?”
“The good news,” Mahya offered quickly, clearly trying to soften the blow, “is that it should be pretty sensitive to your lightning. You just have to find a way to channel a lot of lightning into it. Wyverns are incredibly durable.”
I sighed, my temples throbbing. “Great. Anything else?”
“Don’t die,” Al said dryly, adjusting his sword and offering me a grim smile.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Thanks for the pep talk, Al,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Rue stood up, wagged his tail, and barked. “John fly. Rue help and protect John. Big lizard go down!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, buddy. Let’s give this oversized garden decoration something to think about.”
I regenerated actively until full and leaped into the air again. The wyvern was circling, its sharp eyes scanning the terrain below. It took me three hours to be full again, and judging by its demeanor, I was sure it scouted the whole time. The moment it spotted me, it let out a roar and surged toward me like a missile.
I clenched my fists. “Let’s see how tough you really are,” I muttered, diving straight into the fight.
The wyvern was even more imposing up close than I could have imagined. Its shimmering scales seemed to shift and dance in the fading sunlight, hues of emerald and sapphire glittering like liquid gemstones. Each movement of its massive body radiated raw power, and the sharp edges of its armor-like scales caught the light like the edges of finely cut blades. Two long, curved horns extended from its head, faintly crackling with energy, and its enormous wings glowed with an iridescent sheen, the veins within pulsing faintly as though alive with mana. This wasn’t just a predator—it was a living storm.
Invisible, I crept closer, my flight path erratic to avoid giving away my position. The wyvern snarled, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the wind. My stomach dropped. It couldn’t see me, but it knew I was there. I barely had time to react before it spun around, its tail lashing like a whip. The spiked tip sliced through the air, and I threw myself into a barrel roll, narrowly dodging the strike.
How do you hit something that moves like that? I thought, frustration bubbling under the surface.
The wyvern roared, a sound that seemed to shake the sky, and dove at me with terrifying speed. I shot upward, forcing it to follow. Lightning flickered in my hands, the crackling energy building into a dangerous charge. Aiming carefully, I hurled a bolt of lightning directly at its chest. The wyvern twisted mid-air, the bolt grazing its wing instead. A charred black line spread across the thin membrane, and the beast shrieked in pain.
But instead of retreating, it became more aggressive. It roared again, opening its jagged maw, and launched a barrage of wooden spikes. The projectiles hurtled toward me like lethal spears, their edges gleaming in the fading light. I instinctively threw up my Protective Shield, the transparent barrier shimmering into existence just in time to intercept the attack. The spikes collided with the shield, splintering on impact, but each hit drained my mana further. My teeth clenched as I felt the sharp tug on my reserves.
This is getting expensive.
I twisted and dove, my body weaving through the air as the wyvern pursued me relentlessly. My heart raced as I realized I couldn’t keep this up. My mana reserves were plummeting, and the wyvern showed no signs of slowing down. Desperate, I turned sharply, flying directly at it. The sudden shift in tactics caught it off guard, and it hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough.
I surged forward, lightning coursing through my hands, and slammed into its side with everything I had. The impact jarred both of us, the force knocking the wyvern off balance. It thrashed wildly as we plummeted, spinning through the air in a chaotic spiral. Clinging to its spiny back, I planted myself as firmly as possible. Lightning crackled along my arms as I poured every ounce of mana into the beast, the raw energy surging through its body.
The wyvern roared, thrashing violently to shake me off. Its wings beat erratically, the sheer power of their movements threatening to throw me off. My muscles burned, and the searing pain in my arms grew unbearable, but I held on.
Finally, my mana ran dry. My chest heaved as I reached for a mana potion, summoning it from my Storage with shaking hands. Popping the cork, I downed the glowing liquid in one gulp. The energy rushed back into me like a tidal wave, and I channeled it all into another lightning strike, the brightest yet. The wyvern shrieked, its body convulsing under the relentless onslaught of energy.
But it wasn’t enough. The wyvern threw me off with a powerful twist, and I barely stabilized myself mid-air. Damaged but far from defeated, it roared, the sound vibrating in my chest, its blazing eyes locking onto my location with unrelenting fury. With a snap of its wings, it surged forward, diving at me like a missile.
Out of nowhere, Rue barked, his tone sharp with urgency. Whatever he did, it worked. The wyvern’s attention shifted to him, its massive frame twisting mid-flight to pursue.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I growled, diving after it. Summoning every ounce of strength, I slammed into its side with both feet, the impact jarring us both but enough to push it off-course, giving Rue the chance to dart away.
The victory was short-lived. Its tail whipped around in retaliation, catching me squarely and sending me into a chaotic spin. The world blurred as I struggled to regain control, my stomach lurching as I finally righted myself, only to find its gaping maw right in front of my face.
My instincts took over. I launched a spinning vortex of wind directly into its open mouth. Its jaws snapped shut with a loud thud, the force reverberating through its massive skull. For a moment, it looked almost… confused? Offended?
Seriously?
I didn’t waste the opportunity. Two more twisters spun into existence, slamming into its wings and throwing it into a chaotic spiral. The wyvern’s screech was guttural and furious as it thrashed in the air, struggling to regain its balance.
“Rue, retreat!” I called telepathically, veering sharply to disengage. He followed as we both retreated to a safe distance. My mana reserves were nearly dry, my chest heaving with the effort of holding everything together.
We needed time to regenerate—and fast. This fight wasn’t over, but I was going to make sure we’d come back ready to finish it.
The second and third encounters played out in similar brutal patterns. I pushed my flight to its limits, dodging spikes and claws and landing blows where I could. Each time, I drained my mana reserves dry and had to down another potion, feeling the strain build in my body with every round. The wyvern’s movements were relentless, its stamina seemingly endless. After the third bout, I had nothing left to give.
I retreated, veering sharply around the cliffs. The wyvern roared behind me but didn’t follow, circling back toward the island. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I landed near the group.
“I need to recharge,” I said, sinking to the ground. “It’s not done yet.”
They nodded, concern etched on their faces, but said nothing. Finally, on the fourth attempt, I felt ready. Taking a deep breath, I took to the skies once more. This time, I didn’t hesitate. Lightning arced from my hands in rapid succession, each bolt slamming into the wyvern’s body with unrelenting force. I pushed everything I had into the fight, my focus narrowing to a razor-sharp edge. When the wyvern reared back, I drank another potion and surged forward, slamming into its chest and unleashing a concentrated burst of lightning directly into its heart.
The wyvern roared, its body convulsing one last time before its wings faltered. It plummeted toward the island, crashing into the trees with an earth-shaking thud. Hovering above the wreckage, I exhaled slowly, my chest heaving.
“Finally,” I muttered, wiping the sweat from my face. The forest below was eerily silent, save for the faint crackling of embers rising from the wyvern’s body. Smoke curled upward, a reminder of the battle. My hands tingled from overuse of lightning, and my breaths came in uneven gasps as I hovered in the air, staring at the creature’s massive, smoldering form.
Then, a deafening CRACK! echoed across the island—a sound like a thousand panes of glass shattering at once. The ground beneath the wyvern split violently, fissures racing across the central island with terrifying speed. The earth gave way, collapsing into five massive chunks. Some fell into the water below, sending waves crashing against the cliffs, while two pieces remained standing, one precariously holding the wyvern’s corpse.
Panic surged through me as the realization hit: the occurrence was collapsing.
I turned and flew back to the group, my limbs feeling heavier every second. My landing was less than graceful—I hit the ground hard, my legs buckling beneath me as exhaustion claimed what little strength I had left. “Your turn to deal with it,” I muttered hoarsely, gesturing weakly toward the wyvern. “I’m done.”
“We have to get out of here, now! The space will collapse fast,” Mahya said urgently.
Sweat dripped from my forehead onto the dirt as I groaned, leaning forward on my hands and knees. “I need to regenerate. I’m empty,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Drink a mana potion,” Al said curtly, his eyes darting around as he scanned the horizon for incoming danger.
“Can’t,” I rasped, shaking my head. “I already drank one. I’d pass out if I had another so soon.”
Mahya didn’t hesitate. She took out a small vial filled with a light green liquid, knelt beside me, and thrust it into my trembling hand. “This one’s from Lis,” she said, her tone laced with urgency. “It’s completely different from Al’s potions. Drink it, store the wyvern, and let’s move. Usually, the space collapses in less than an hour, but we might not even have that.”
I didn’t waste time arguing. Yanking the stopper out of the vial, I downed the potion in one burning gulp. The liquid scorched my throat like fire, but the effects were immediate. I felt the mana fill me. It wasn’t external like regeneration, but internal–like it bloomed inside me. It wasn’t as potent as Al’s potion, but enough to get the job done. My head buzzed with the rush, and clarity returned through the fog of exhaustion.
Ignoring the lingering ache, I pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly before steadying. Without a word, I launched into the air, heading back toward the wyvern. Its massive, smoking body sprawled across the fractured ground, radiating heat even from a distance. I landed next to the creature, my legs trembling as I crouched beside its colossal form and the wyvern’s enormous body vanished into my Storage space.
I shot back to the group, and Al clambered onto my back with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly, anchoring himself in place. Rue crouched low to the ground, his body coiled with energy as Mahya swung onto his back. She pulled a rifle from her Storage, cradling it expertly as they prepared to move.
“Let’s go!” Mahya shouted.
With a last glance at the fracturing landscape behind us, I pushed myself upward. Rue bounded forward, leaping into the air, while Mahya held on tight. Her eyes scanned for threats even as the ground crumbled below; we raced toward safety, the collapsing occurrence nipping at our heels. The crumbling island below us blurred. The sky above shimmered as if it was unraveling. I risked a glance over my shoulder—and froze, amazed by the surreal destruction behind us.
The space fractured like glass. Cracks spidered in jagged lines in every direction, like my lightning. Shards of light splintered off, each one dissolving into nothingness. Flickering, entire sections of the landscape below vanished. A swirling vortex of chaos consumed them. It was beautiful in a scary, apocalyptic way–a masterpiece of devastation. It left me breathless.
“Focus, John!” Mahya’s sharp shout snapped me out of it. “The portal’s ahead, but we’ve got company!”
I turned back just in time to see a massive bird—a screeching blur of feathers and talons—slam into Rue’s side. He growled and twisted, shaking the creature off with a sharp telepathic complaint. Mahya’s rifle cracked, deafening in the open air, and the bird exploded in a burst of feathers. But it was only the beginning.
“They’re swarming!” Al yelled, his grip tightening on my shoulders as more screeching shapes emerged from the chaos behind us.
I banked hard to the left, narrowly dodging a flock diving straight at us. Their talons gleamed in the dim light, slashing wildly as they passed. The sharp crack of Mahya’s rifle and the rhythmic bang of Al’s pistol echoed in my ears. Each shot a thunderclap cutting through the chaos. Feathers rained down around us, mingling with the distant glow of the collapsing space.
“Could you aim a little farther from my head?!” I shouted over the pandemonium, twisting into a sharp roll to evade another diving bird.
Al squeezed my shoulder in reply.
The birds came in relentless waves, shrill cries slicing through the air as their talons slashed dangerously close. I fired wind blades at the nearest ones, slicing cleanly through a pair of attackers. My mana still hadn’t regenerated enough for lightning, and I gritted my teeth at the lack of options. Every maneuver pushed my agility to the limit, my muscles burning as I dodged and twisted, desperate to keep us airborne.
The sky was pure chaos. Birds screamed and dived from every direction, feathers filled the air like ash in a storm, and Mahya’s rifle cracks mixed with Al’s gun. Rue barked, his annoyance radiating as he twisted and turned, keeping Mahya steady on his back while dodging the endless assault.
Ahead, the portal shimmered, a swirling vortex of orange and red hovering just beyond the fractured horizon. But as we closed the distance, the collapsing space sent one final onslaught our way.
From the ground below, sinewy tusked creatures emerged, their claws glinting as they lunged upward. A group of wood cats leaped from the shattered trees, their glowing eyes fixed on us as they sprang with terrifying agility. Even above them, more birds joined the fray, their shrieks echoing through the cacophony of chaos.
“Hold on!” I shouted, diving sharply to avoid a swipe from a tusked beast lunging upward. Its claws whistled past my leg, missing by inches.
Mahya’s rifle cracked again, and one of the wood cats flew back into the devouring chaos of the collapse. It didn’t come out. Another cat sprang toward Rue, forcing him into a twisting dive. Mahya held on tightly, swearing as she struggled to line up her next shot. Al shouted something, but another screeching dive from above drowned it out, forcing me to roll out of the way.
“We’re almost there!” Mahya yelled, her rifle firing again as she struck down another bird mid-dive.
I could feel the portal’s pull now, the air around us shimmering as if reality was warping. But the creatures weren’t letting up. A tusked beast leaped higher than I thought possible, claws grazing my leg.
“This is ridiculous!” I yelled, dodging another bird. “We’re one step away from being the main course!”
I twisted sharply, angling toward the swirling vortex. “Hold tight!” I shouted, pumping every ounce of strength and focus into my flight. The collapsing space behind us roared like a hurricane, cracks widening and consuming everything in their path. One last burst of effort, and we shot through the swirling vortex, the chaos of the occurrence vanishing behind us. The world shifted, reality stabilizing around us, and we tumbled out onto solid ground, gasping for breath.
Less than a minute after we crossed, the portal flared. A blinding light flooded the area, forcing me to shield my eyes. Behind us, the creatures let out an eerie, synchronized screech. A bone-chilling sound made the hairs on my neck stand up. I felt a pulling force, like suction, coming from the portal, but it wasn’t strong enough to pull us back in. A handful of the creatures surged forward, propelled by desperation and instinct. They fought against the pulling force, and some slipped through at the last second.
The portal snapped shut behind them with a final, resounding crack, leaving only silence—and a lingering shimmer in the air—where chaos had been moments before. But the reprieve was momentary. The creatures outside with us wasted no time recovering their focus. A tusked beast roared and charged, its claws digging into the dirt as it barreled toward Al.
I stumble to my feet, the exhaustion from the escape still making me slower than usual.
Al didn’t hesitate. With a precision born of countless battles, he sidestepped the beast’s charge and swung his sword in a deadly arc. The blade reflected the light as it found its mark, cleaving through the creature’s thick hide and sending it crumpling to the ground. Without missing a beat, he pivoted to block a second-tusked creature, deflecting its swipe with his shield. The force of the impact echoed like a gong.
“Focus on the faster ones!” Mahya called, raising her rifle and sighting a wood cat leaping from the nearby pile of rubble. The sharp crack of her shot rang out, and the cat flew off course. It moved slower than inside the occurrence. Another cat sprang toward her, but Rue intercepted it mid-air with a snarl, his jaws snapping shut around its throat with a crunch.
I forced myself upright, summoning what little mana I had left to cast a Protective Shield. A bird slammed into the barrier, its talons scraping uselessly against it. I sent a wind blade through its chest, and it collapsed in a heap at my feet.
More birds swarmed us, frenzied screeches filling the air as they dived in relentless waves. “Mahya, on the left!” I shouted, pointing to three swooping in from her blind spot. She spun, her rifle barking again. Feathers burst into the air as two birds fell, but the third broke through. Rue tackled it mid-dive, pinning it to the ground and tearing into it with a growl that reverberated through the clearing.
The last tusked beast lunged at Al, its claws aimed at his legs. He sidestepped gracefully, driving his sword through its exposed side with a sharp twist. The creature let out a guttural snarl before collapsing in a lifeless heap.
Finally, the remaining two wood cats jumped at us together. I shot the last of my mana as lightning, wincing at the headache. Mahya peppered them with shots, and Al chopped off the head of one of them. Rue bit the neck of the second one and shook it until it stilled.
As the last creature fell, the oppressive weight of the battle lifted instantly. For the first time in what felt like hours, there was silence—real silence. The portal’s lingering mana gradually faded, leaving behind no trace of the chaotic space from which the creatures had emerged.
I dropped to my knees, my legs finally giving out beneath me. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, and my lungs burned as I gasped for air. “Finally,” I croaked, swiping sweat from my brow with a trembling hand. “That’s it. We’re done. Right?”
Mahya slumped against Rue’s side, her rifle hanging loosely at her side. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts. “We’re done,” she muttered, her voice relieved.
Al wiped his blade clean on the hide of the nearest creature, the metallic scrape of his sword sharp in the stillness. Cast Clean on it, sheathed it with a decisive clang, and turned toward me, his usual composed demeanor cracking slightly. “Let us never, ever do that again.”
Rue collapsed onto the ground, his massive chest rising and falling as he panted. His tail thumped once weakly against the dirt. “No more birds,” he grumbled, his tone petulant. “Rue hates birds.”
Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Noted. Next time, I’ll make sure the birds are optional.”
We sat there for a moment longer, catching our breath, surrounded by the aftermath of the chaos. Bodies, feathers, and wood splinters littered the ground. A faint smell of gunpowder lingered in the air. The adrenaline faded, leaving a bone-deep fatigue that would take days to recover.
I felt good about one thing: after my fight with the wyvern, I didn’t just survive; I held my own. For the first time, I felt like a dangerous predator. I belonged with the creatures that made these occurrences their home. That realization settled deep in inside me. A quiet confidence grew. It told me I’d be okay, even in high-mana worlds.