The sound of metal echoes through the air, the forest ablaze below the hill fills with screams. A hooded young person, holding a black staff resembling a trident with a fourth prong below, walks on the hill. A jade green jewel adorns the staff.

As they stroll down the hill, their brown cloak drags on the ground. Their attire—black open jacket over white shirt and pants—is stained with a viscous green liquid.

The young one stops, observing three deformed wolves with skin peeling, revealing a mass of green pus and lifeless white eyes, approaching. They sigh, twirling their staff vertically, placing it horizontally, and gesturing with their left hand, beckoning the creatures.

"Come on, I don't have all day, your master is waiting for me."

They smile as one wolf charges towards them. As it nears, the young one clenches their fist and points upward with two fingers.

A column of air shoots up from the ground, tossing the wolf two meters high, making it spin before it's cut into four pieces before it hits the ground.

The person grins, twirling the staff. Instead of four prongs, a curved blade resembling a glaive appears above the crystal.

The other wolves simultaneously rush towards them, leaping over in the same manner as the first.

The young one simply smiles.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Fourth verse: Dance of the Claw Song."

They hold the glaive with both hands in front of their body, spinning the weapon diagonally from left to right and then from right to left.

The attack slices everything around them, turning the wolves into slices of flesh and green pus scattered on the ground. The ground is marked with diagonal cut patterns.

"Better save mana; I'll handle the ones that show up with just techniques, should be enough."

And so, they continue up the mountain.

A cyclops with a mass of green pus in place of an eye.

"Third verse: Serpent's Advance."

The top of the staff changes to a spear as the person throws their body sideways, holding the spear with their right hand near the end of the shaft, letting their left arm and forearm rest on the rest of the handle. They and the spear are thrown towards the cyclops's face when they push the spear with their right hand.

The monster's head disappears, leaving only its fallen body.

Further ahead, the person encounters an Avernus—a creature of rotten and corrupted wood—with eyes and mouth emitting a green light similar to the wolves' pus. The creature walks aimlessly around the trees without noticing the person.

"Second verse: Serpentine Crawl."

They move the spear backward and thrust it forward, placing their left hand on their wrist. The spear's tip moves towards a tree between the attacker and the Avernus, but as it nears the tree, the spear deflects, becoming almost entirely flexible and hitting the monster.

The Avernus is pierced in the head, falling to the ground.

"Good thing it didn't choose peculiar creatures; it would be a problem dealing with a corrupted demon or a group of Harpies."

They say, smiling, reshaping their spear into a more solid form and continuing their path.

Finally, the person reaches the mountaintop. Below, the fire spreads through the forest, but the soldiers' screams become inaudible.

"Finally, I made it... Sorry for the delay."

The person says with a smile, looking ahead where a hooded figure stands with hundreds of creatures around them, all deformed with pulsating green bubbles.

After that, only silence.

A cave.

A lake.

And a rest for ages.