"So, you mentioned you had an idea for finding the creature. How are you planning to do it? What exactly are you looking for?" Marcos asked, standing beside Magnus and watching as his hands and eyes darted over the map spread across the table.
"I'm looking for any location with a high concentration of mana," Magnus replied without lifting his gaze. His response made Marcos furrow his brows slightly, one hand rising to touch his lips thoughtfully.
"So, you're thinking of a mana well? Is that what you're trying to pinpoint?" Marcos asked for clarification.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so. We haven’t really covered that topic in the academy yet," Magnus admitted, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
"That makes sense. Mana wells are pretty rare and tough to identify. Unless you're actively searching, you might never notice one, even if you’re standing right next to it," Marcos explained. His description earned a quiet sigh from Magnus. The thought of tracking something invisible, like mana, made him suspect that mana wells would be just as elusive.
"Have you or any of the knights come across anything that could be a mana well during your searches?" Magnus asked, looking up briefly.
"Not that I’m aware of," Marcos replied.
"But I think I see your angle. If the creature we’re hunting is a mana beast, it would likely lair in an area with high mana concentrations—possibly even a mana well that triggered its mutation in the first place. The problem is that mana wells don’t follow any specific geographical pattern. You can’t just spot one on a map. To find one, you’d have to comb the entire valley for abnormal mana fluctuations. And considering how long it’s taken us to even mark off the forest sections..." Marcos trailed off, his gaze shifting toward the heavily marked map. It was littered with notes and indicators of monsters and past search zones.
"Right..." Magnus muttered, his frustration mounting. If they couldn’t locate something as simple as a cave or lair after weeks of searching, trying to pinpoint something as abstract as a mana well would be a challenge—and one that only the knights could tackle effectively. Running a hand through his hair, Magnus bit his lip, letting out a resigned sigh.
"Okay, if finding a mana well through maps is out of the question, and searching the entire valley is too unrealistic with the time we’ve got, I’ll refine the approach. I’ll start by looking for areas with high temperatures instead." His words hung in the air for a moment, prompting a confused look from Marcos. The abrupt shift in focus puzzled him.
"High temperatures?" he asked, his curiosity clear.
Magnus noticed the confusion in Marcos’s expression and paused to elaborate.
"Remember when I told you about stopping at a place called Freybord Village?" Magnus began. Marcos nodded, his expression attentive.
"I won't go into all the details, but when I arrived, the village was under attack by a swarm of monsters, and the whole place was on fire. A friend and I managed to fend them off, but they were injured fighting a mana beast—a fire-type one responsible for lighting the village ablaze in the first place." Magnus stepped back from the table, his hands resting on his hips as he continued.
"After we handled most of the chaos, I started thinking. Why would so many different species of monsters, who usually avoid each other, attack a single village together?" He glanced at Marcos, whose brows furrowed as he caught on to Magnus's train of thought.
"A disaster?" Marcos offered.
"Exactly. That’s what I thought too. The mana beast that attacked was Adept-level, and, if you ask me, that’s basically the definition of a walking disaster. So, I mapped it out. If that mana beast traveled through the Verdant Woods before reaching the village, it would’ve crossed through multiple monsters’ territories. I believe that's what must have spooked them into a mass stampede. But then came the real question—where does a fire-based mana beast come from in the middle of the woods? And what could’ve driven it to migrate like that?" Magnus directed the question toward Marcos, whose eyes widened slightly. His gaze shifted to the maps spread across the table.
"I think... if something can wipe out an entire platoon of soldiers led by an Adept-level knight before anyone could react, it wouldn’t have any trouble driving an Adept-level mana beast from its home," Magnus reasoned. The theory wasn’t new—it had first come to him back in Freybord Village—but it was the only explanation that fit. The fire mana beast and the other monsters that attacked had come from the east, the same northeastern direction as Larter Village and this valley, if you were heading there from Freyborn.
"If you’re right," Marcos said, his tone heavy, "then it would have to be at least a Master-level mana beast. Forcing an Adept-level mana beast out of its territory and causing so much chaos in its wake… it’s the only thing that makes sense. But there’s a problem: there were no signs of fire during the attacks. Just blood, and not much damage to the surroundings except what came from the victims themselves." Magnus hesitated. He knew the answer but couldn’t explain it fully without revealing too much. The creature likely wasn’t a mana beast at all—it was something far worse, a glitch. But that wasn’t something he could share, so he shrugged.
"I don’t have all the answers, but at least it’s a lead," he said.
"An area with a high concentration of mana and heat. That’s what it would take to create an Adept-level flame mana beast. If we can find that, we’ll find its lair." Magnus turned back to the maps, his expression pensive.
"I’ve seen this valley from above. It’s almost entirely greenery, not exactly the type of place you’d expect to find a hot spot. I think you, Mia, and the others were right to think it’s underground. But the problem is, we don’t know this valley well enough to pinpoint where, and as you said, searching the entire area isn’t realistic with the time we’ve got. So, our best option is to gather information from people who know the valley better than we do."
"The villagers in Larter Village?" Marcos guessed.
Magnus nodded.
"That's right. They've lived here their whole lives. If anyone’s noticed any part of the valley being strangely hotter, it’d be them."
Marcos thought it over for a moment, then said, "Alright, I’ll get the horses ready and go with you."
Magnus blinked in surprise. "Wait, you’re coming with me?"
"Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been to Larter Village before. Two people asking questions will get results faster than one." Magnus hesitated before shaking his head lightly.
"No, that’s not what I meant... I just figured you didn’t like me or something." A silence followed his words. Marcos's gaze shifted, trailing to a group of soldiers nearby. Magnus followed his line of sight and spotted two soldiers carrying one of the food boxes he’d handed over earlier. Around the outpost, other groups of soldiers were doing the same, distributing the rations under the watchful eyes of Gerald and Galven. The pair stood nearby, supervising and coordinating to make sure everyone got their share.
The soldiers’ reactions were telling—surprised and elated. They quickly gathered to claim their portions, and for the first time in what felt like ages, there was an air of relief in the camp.
"How long do you think I’ve known Gerald and Mia?" Marcos asked suddenly, his tone casual but pointed.
Magnus paused. It wasn’t something he’d thought about before.
How long have they known each other? Well... Mia and Marcos seem pretty close in age—maybe late twenties or early thirties. Gerald’s definitely older, maybe in his forties or fifties… But how long have they actually worked together?
Before Magnus could try to piece together a guess, Marcos spoke again.
"I’ve known Mia for nearly twenty years. Gerald, a little over ten. It was Mia who convinced me to join the Batis Military in the first place. Back then, we were in different squads, platoons, and missions. The three of us only became what we are now about five years ago when we were promoted and assigned to the 23rd Eastern Border Defense Company." Magnus stayed quiet, sensing that Marcos had more to say.
"I’ve had a long time to learn what kind of people Mia and Gerald are," Marcos continued.
"Mia already told you this, but she’s been trained for her gifts as a spirit naturalist since she was a kid. Being part of the Batis Military is all she’s ever known, and she takes pride in it. It gives her purpose; I mean, you've seen how committed she is to her duty. But it also means she only knows how to be kind to everyone but herself." Marcos turned to look at Magnus directly, his expression steady but sharp.
"The idea of sacrificing her well-being for something greater isn't just ingrained in her—it’s who she is. She’d throw herself into the fire without a second thought if she thought it would make a difference. That selflessness is part of what makes her who she is, but it also makes her vulnerable. Liars and cowards thrive on selflessness like hers. I've seen what happens when those types of people get their hooks into someone. They twist it, drain it, and leave nothing behind." He paused, his voice hardening.
"The Batis Military already did it to her once, when she was too young to know better." Magnus felt his chest tighten as Marcos’s gaze seemed to cut right through him.
"So, yeah," Marcos continued, "I didn’t like you. Because even if Mia and Gerald believed you back then, you and I both know that nearly every word that came out of your mouth was a lie." The tension in the air thickened as Marcos’s words struck home, his tone sharp enough to make Magnus instinctively raise his guard.
"But you seem different now." Marcos’s voice softened, his intense glare relaxing into something more neutral.
"I can still tell you’re holding things back—don’t think for a second I can’t. But… you’re not dangerous for her to be around. Not anymore, at least." With that, Marcos turned and headed toward the open wooden stables, leaving Magnus standing there in stunned silence. It took him a moment to shake off the weight of the conversation. Finally, he hurried to catch up, his thoughts swirling as he replayed everything Marcos had just said.
"We're going to need two- wait a second," Marcos said, cutting himself off as he turned away from the stable hand and looked at Magnus.
"Have you learned how to ride a horse yet?" Magnus opened his mouth, hesitating before letting out a drawn-out noise.
Stolen novel; please report.
"Um... no." Marcos sighed softly, barely audible, before turning back to the stable hand.
"Never mind. Just one horse. We only need it to get down the hill to the village and back."
"Yes, Sir," the stable hand replied and went off to retrieve a horse, leaving the two of them standing there in silence. The awkward pause stretched long enough for Magnus’s thoughts to wander before he eventually spoke up.
"I thought you might have a reason why you didn’t like me, but… I didn’t think it would be something like that. I don’t really know what to say."
"Then don’t say anything," Marcos replied simply, his tone neutral.
"I was just answering your question with some context. You don’t have to act differently around me." The stable hand returned with a brown-coated horse, handing the reins to Marcos. Horses, like food, were scarce in this valley. The few available either belonged to soldiers originally stationed here or had come with supply carriages brought by the Major General. They were mostly reserved for scouting or urgent travel, given their limited numbers.
Marcos took the reins and climbed onto the horse with practiced ease, his cloak rippling as he settled into the saddle. Once secure, he extended a hand to Magnus, who hesitated only briefly before taking it and climbing up behind him. The horse started toward the outpost entrance with a light tug of the reins. Feeling Magnus grab onto him for balance, Marcos couldn’t resist commenting.
"I find it ridiculous that you managed to reach the Pseudo-Master level so quickly, but you never bothered to learn how to ride a horse."
"Well, it’s not like I had many opportunities," Magnus said defensively.
"I could’ve maybe found a book or two on horseback riding in the academy library, but it’s not like I had a horse to practice with. Most of my time at Arlcliff City was spent in Takerth."
He paused, then added, "Though I guess I do have some money now. Maybe I’ll buy a horse and start practicing when I get back."
"You should," Marcos replied, guiding the horse toward the outpost gates.
"Even if you can travel using magic, horses are useful for more than just riding." The horse slowed to a stop as Gerald approached them, brushing his unkempt beard with one hand. Like many of the soldiers, his appearance was rough, a clear sign of the time spent in the valley’s conditions.
"And where are you two off to?" Gerald asked, his tone casual.
"We’re heading to the village to investigate something," Magnus answered.
"Oh, is this about finding the creature? I figured Mia would be going with you instead of Marcos," Gerald said, glancing around as if expecting her to appear.
"Mia’s resting," Marcos explained, catching Gerald’s searching gaze. The older man blinked in surprise, a flicker of concern crossing his face.
"So, while we’re at the village, try to keep things steady here. Make sure nothing happens that’ll get her involved," Marcos added, his tone firm but calm. The shift in Marcos’s voice didn't catch Gerald off guard, but his usual casual demeanor faded slightly, replaced with a more serious expression.
"Don’t worry," Gerald said with a nod.
"I’ll make sure things run smoothly."
"Thanks," Marcos said as he ushered the horse forward, with Magnus holding on behind him. The descent down the hill was much quicker than the trek up, especially compared to traveling with a platoon of soldiers. The heavy clop of the horse’s hooves on the rough terrain gradually softened as the ground beneath them became less rocky. Soon, green fields of grass and plant life came into view, spilling out beyond the edges of the narrow path they rode.
Magnus noticed the split-off ahead—the same one he had seen during their climb to the outpost. Marcos turned the horse down that path, leading them eastward as they continued to descend. While the outpost sat high on a rocky hill where no trees grew, the surrounding valley was lush. As they moved lower, the trees began to return, forming the dense natural barrier that surrounded the inner valley. But despite the forested edges, the heart of the valley was surprisingly open, with sprawling greenery and low rolling hills stretching in every direction.
As the horse crested a particular slope, Magnus caught sight of their destination. The village lay ahead, nestled within the valley’s gentle embrace.
"Huh, so that’s Larter Village," Magnus said, leaning to the side to peer past Marcos.
"It’s a lot... quainter than I thought it would be." He couldn’t help but compare it to the other villages he’d seen so far. Back on Earth, he’d imagined villages as small, simple places you could walk through in minutes, taking in everything they had to offer. But in this world, villages were often far larger, housing thousands of people, with just as many structures and high walls to keep out the relentless monsters that roamed unchecked. Larter Village, however, was different. It was much smaller than the other villages he'd seen.
Magnus’s eyes traced the river he’d spotted when he first arrived at the valley. The village straddled the river, divided into two halves connected by a wooden bridge. The river itself was modest, maybe ten or fifteen meters wide, but its waters were crystal clear, shimmering under the sunlight like liquid glass. The village’s structures were simple, built primarily from logs fitted together to form walls, floors, and even foundations. The roofs, in contrast, were made from various types of thatch. From where they were, Magnus guessed there were maybe a hundred buildings in total, and not all of them appeared to be homes.
Marcos, noticing Magnus’s gaze and hearing his comment, spoke up.
"Not many people choose to live in a place so isolated from the rest of the region unless they enjoy the scenery. Most of the villagers here grew up in Larter and stayed because it’s what they know. With the monsters mostly sticking to the Verdant Woods and the forest at the valley’s edges, they’ve never had much reason to fear attacks—or to build defensive walls." Magnus nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. The villagers seemed to have enough resources to sustain their smaller numbers and live peacefully, even if they weren’t a large community like Freybord Village or Dimfield. And from what he could tell, the lack of walls or larger infrastructure didn’t bother them.
As Marcos had said, they lived quiet, peaceful lives.
As they reached the base of the hill and approached the village, that tranquility became even more apparent. By the river’s edge, women—likely wives and mothers—went about their day. Some filled basins with water for washing clothes, while others scrubbed wooden dishes and utensils.
Not far from the village, the open green meadows gave way to farmland surrounded by rough wooden fences. Where the tall grass once swayed, there were now long stretches of crops, tended to by dozens of men and women under the sun. From his vantage point, Magnus couldn’t identify everything being grown, but he recognized fields of wheat and legumes. Soon, though, the view of the farms disappeared behind the sporadically placed houses and other structures as the horse continued its trot into the village.
One detail caught Magnus’s attention along the way: soldiers patrolling the area. There weren’t many, but their presence was notable. Curious, Magnus turned to Marcos.
"Why are there soldiers here?" He asked.
"They’re part of the third platoon," Marcos explained.
"Mia stationed them here along with Lieutenant Hazel. There’s always been a chance the creature might attack the village directly, so they’ve been keeping watch day and night. Hazel’s on the night shift, so we probably won’t see him." As he spoke, Marcos brought the horse to a stop near a sturdy fence post and dismounted. Magnus followed, climbing down a bit less gracefully. Looking around, he realized they had stopped near the village center.
Marcos began tying the horse’s reins to the post and continued, "The oldest houses in this village are here in the center. This is where the first settlers built their homes, and everything else expanded outward from here. That means most of the families living here are the oldest ones and, by extension..."
"Probably know this valley the best," Magnus finished, catching on.
"Exactly. You take this side of the village. I’ll cross the bridge and talk to the people on the other side. We’ll meet back here in two hours; sound good?"
"Sounds good," Magnus agreed with a nod. With that, they split up—Marcos heading toward the wooden bridge while Magnus wandered the village on his own. Magnus took his time, looking around and deciding who to approach first. A few villagers gave him odd looks as he passed, likely noticing how out of place his attire was compared to both the locals and the soldiers. Eventually, his attention settled on an elderly couple sitting outside their modest home. They rocked gently in their chairs, wrapped in blankets, seemingly enjoying the chilly, fresh valley air as they watched the clouds drift by.
Magnus approached them with a friendly smile, raising his hand in greeting.
"Hello there." The old woman turned her gaze from the sky, returning his smile warmly.
"Well, hello, young man. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before." Magnus opened his mouth to respond, but the old man cut him off with a dismissive wave.
"Bah, didn’t we already tell you outsiders we don’t want to be bothered? Shoo-" Before he could finish, his wife slapped him on the shoulder, making him recoil.
"Stop being so rude, you cranky old coot!" She scolded. The old man clicked his tongue but fell silent, settling back into his chair to sulk.
"Sorry about him," the woman said, turning back to Magnus with an apologetic smile.
"He gets grumpy around this time of day."
"It’s fine," Magnus said, chuckling lightly.
"I didn’t mean to bother you two, but I was hoping to ask a question about the valley. I just got here today."
"Oh? Well, I’ll do my best, though my memory isn’t what it used to be," she replied, leaning forward slightly.
"That’s fine. I’m just wondering if any places in the valley are unusually hot—maybe underground caves or spots where heat seems to radiate out," Magnus explained. The old woman brought a hand to her mouth, thinking for a moment before shaking her head.
"Hmm, I don’t think so. The valley’s always been quite cold, especially during the rainy season. What about you, dear?" She turned to her husband, who continued staring at the sky, rocking in his chair as if he hadn’t heard. With an exasperated sigh, she slapped his arm again.
"Would you quit it!?" He barked, jolting upright.
"I will once you stop being such a sulky bag of bones!" She shot back, glaring at him. The old man grumbled under his breath but finally looked at Magnus, his face lined with irritation.
"There aren’t any hot spots in this valley. If there were, we’d have found them years ago. Now go away." The old woman sighed, shaking her head.
"I’m sorry about him," she said to Magnus.
"But if he says there aren’t any, I’d believe him. He used to hunt in the forest when he was younger, just like his father before him. He knew that place like the back of his hand." Hearing that, the old man straightened slightly, a spark of pride in his eye.
"What do you mean, knew? I still know that forest better than anyone!"
"Sure, sure," his wife replied dismissively, clearly used to his outbursts. Sensing they were on the verge of an argument, Magnus excused himself with a polite smile. As he walked away, his hand rose to his chin in thought.
Are there really no hotspots in the entire valley? No, that was just one person’s answer. I should keep asking around.
And so he did. For the next hour and a half, Magnus went door to door, speaking to villager after villager. He refined his questions, narrowing them down to specifics like, Are there any places that don’t freeze over during the winter? But no matter how he phrased it, the answers were always the same: no. Slowly, his search took him from the older homes at the village’s center to the outskirts, where younger families lived.
"Sorry, no," said a man dressed like one of the farmers Magnus had seen earlier in the fields. The man hefted a massive bundle of wheat on his back as he spoke.
"I see. Thanks anyway," Magnus replied, stepping aside to let the farmer continue on his way. With a sigh, Magnus realized he had reached the edge of the village. The houses gave way once again to meadows and farmland. Feeling a creeping frustration at the lack of progress, he wandered down to the riverbank, its gentle current blending with the sound of the valley’s ever-present breeze. At the water’s edge, Magnus bent down and picked up a smooth rock, rolling it idly in his hands.
"Damn it," he muttered.
"Looks like my theory’s dead in the water. I guess all I can hope for is that Marcos had better luck." He threw the stone at an angle, watching it skip across the river’s glassy surface before sinking beneath the ripples. His eyes lingered on the clear water, noticing how the riverbed was fully visible. There wasn’t a single fish in sight.
Such a clear river, but no fish at all. Makes sense, though. If the villagers could fish, losing the ability to hunt wouldn’t be such a big deal.
As he mulled over the thought, a burst of high-pitched voices caught his attention. He looked up to see three children, no older than thirteen, walking along the path toward the village. What stood out was their attire—or lack thereof. All three were soaking wet, dressed only in their underwear, their skin prickled with goosebumps as they hugged themselves against the chill. Despite their obvious discomfort, they seemed to be in good spirits, chatting and laughing.
As they passed close by, Magnus called out, "You three should really bring a towel next time you go swimming, or you’re going to catch a cold."
One of the boys turned toward him, grinning sheepishly.
"We know! It’s just that someone forgot to bring them, so now we have to walk back like this!" Another boy threw his hands up defensively.
"I already said sorry! I just forgot how cold it gets when you leave the center of the lake—it’s so warm there!" Magnus’s brow shot up at the comment.
Warm?
His curiosity was instantly piqued. Before the kids could continue on their way, he called out again.
"Hold on a second." The three children stopped and turned to face him. Magnus held up one hand, and with a simple motion, a small flame burst to life above his palm, flickering and dancing in the air. The children’s eyes went wide with amazement, their shivers momentarily forgotten. Magnus smiled and gestured toward them.
"How about this? I help you dry off, and in return, you three tell me more about this lake you were swimming in."