The journey southward had been long, stretching across hours of dense forest and uneven terrain.
Despite the exhaustion that weighed on the rescued captives, they pressed forward—driven by the promise of safety and freedom.
None of them thought of asking if they were there yet or not.
While a lot of them had thought of that question, none of them had the guts or motivation to say it out.
For the mean time, they continued to walk hoping to at least arrive at their destination sooner than later.
Damien sat atop Fenrir, his keen blue eyes scanning the forest ahead. His grip on the wolf’s fur was relaxed, but his mind never rested.
His thoughts drifted to the map he had taken from Pendalf—and the fact that the place Lizella spoke of didn’t exist on it.
Still, he chose not to question her.
Not yet.
The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and moss. Overhead, Aquila, his Griffin, soared above the treetops, keeping watch over the group like a silent sentinel.
Everything was progressing smoothly—until Aquila suddenly halted in midair.
The massive beast descended swiftly, landing gracefully a few feet ahead of the group. It stood tall, its eyes locked onto Lizella.
Damien slowed Fenrir’s pace, raising a brow.
“Aquila?”
The Griffin didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, it nudged its head toward Lizella, flaring its wings slightly.
Lizella stopped walking, staring in confusion. “Uhm, what’s happening? It doesn’t want to eat me, does it?” Lizella asked, her question pointed at none other than the beast’s owner.
The rescued captives, still uneasy around Damien’s mana beasts, whispered nervously among themselves.
Damien watched the interaction for a moment, then smirked.
“You want to carry her?”
Aquila let out a low chirp, its beak clicking once.
Lizella’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, what?”
Damien chuckled.
“Aquila wants you to ride,” he said, gesturing toward the beast. “You’re leading us, after all.”
Lizella hesitated, glancing up at the Griffin’s massive frame.
Sure, she had dreamed of commanding mana beasts—but riding one this powerful? That was something else entirely.
Still, if Aquila was offering, who was she to refuse?
Taking a deep breath, Lizella approached cautiously.
Aquila lowered itself, allowing her to climb on with ease.
With one final glance at Damien—who simply gave her a knowing smirk—she pulled herself onto Aquila’s back.
The moment she was seated, Aquila straightened up, wings stretching proudly.
“First it was Luton and Arielle and now, Aquila has taken a liking to Lizella.” Damien smiled as he thought of it. The thought of which of his summon would choose someone else was now looking tempting.
The survivors watched in awe as the two figures—Damien on Fenrir, Lizella on Aquila—now led the group together.
“Speaking of Arielle, I better head back as soon as possible. She’d definitely worried sick about my sudden disappearance.” Damien muttered to himself as they advanced forward. “Even I do not know how it happened after all.”
They continued traveling for hours, deeper into the southern region, when Damien’s instincts flared.
The forest suddenly fell silent.
The usual sounds of birds and rustling leaves vanished, replaced by a heavy, unnatural stillness.
Something was wrong.
Fenrir growled lowly, its fur bristling.
Aquila’s wings shifted slightly, sensing the same tension in the air.
Lizella, noticing the change in atmosphere, tightened her grip. “What is it?”
Damien’s sharp gaze swept the area.
Then—movement.
From the shadows of the trees, four massive mana beasts emerged.
Their eyes glowed with predatory hunger, their long limbs moving with unnatural grace as they encircled the group.
The survivors panicked, backing away as fear gripped them.
“What are those?!” someone shouted.
Damien exhaled slowly.
They were Nightstalkers.
Large, panther-like creatures with jet-black fur and piercing crimson eyes. They were known for their stealth and deadly ambushes. He’d dealt with a lot of them so he had no problem dealing with these Grade Five ones.
In the face of true power, these mana beasts were nothing.
Damien didn’t even move.
Instead, he lifted a hand—and snapped his fingers.
The ground rumbled.
A blue glow illuminated the forest, and before anyone could react—
A massive three-headed beast appeared in the midst of the group, having being summoned out of a blue portal by Damien.
Cerbe.
The Three-Headed Hound emerged in a blaze of molten energy, its fur rippling like living flames, its six glowing eyes locking onto the Nightstalkers.
The moment the mana beasts saw it, they hesitated.
They knew.
They had hunted before.
But now, they were the prey.
With a deep, rumbling snarl, Cerbe opened its jaws.
A sphere of black and red fire formed between its middle head’s fangs—(Flames of Hell) burning hotter than any mortal blaze.
The Nightstalkers tried to flee.
But it was already too late.
Swoooooshhh…
Boooom!!
The fireball shot forward, exploding in a violent inferno that swallowed the entire clearing in searing flames.
The Nightstalkers never had a chance.
Within seconds, their bodies were reduced to nothing but ash.
A chilling silence followed.
The rescued captives stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of horror and awe.
They had feared the Nightstalkers.
But the real monster was the one that had just saved them.
Cerbe growled softly, then shook its three heads, dismissively flicking away the ashes that had clung to its fur.
Damien simply nodded. “Good boy.”
Cerbe huffed, then slowly dissolved into blue particles, vanishing back into the portal from which it had appeared.
The battle had lasted mere seconds—but the message was clear.
There was nothing in these woods that could threaten them.
Not as long as Damien was here.
With the danger gone, the group pressed forward.
Hours passed.
The dense forest gradually thinned, giving way to more open terrain.
Then, finally—
They arrived at a vast expanse of golden grasslands.
The rescued captives came to a halt, confused.
“Where… are we?”
“There’s nothing here,” someone murmured.
Lizella remained silent, her eyes focused on the empty plain ahead.
Damien, however, was already aware.
Though the others saw nothing, he had sensed it the moment they arrived.
A tiny fluctuation of magic essence in the air.
Subtle. Faint. But there.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
He turned toward Lizella, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“It’s hidden, isn’t it?”
