"Wait, where are my manners? I'm Rywes, by the way. It's nice meeting you all."
She hopped down from the crate she'd been standing on and offered a quick handshake to a few people nearby.
"Now then, shall we begin? We've got five hours to kill this thing."
"Isn't that a lot of time?" an orange-haired with freckles, muttered from the crowd.
"Not really," Rywes replied, climbing back onto the crate. "This isn't going to be simple. We're in a seven-star region, remember? Better safe than sorry."
Yor glanced around, frowning.
"I don't see any countdown timer. Where is it?" he asked Ludwig.
Ludwig just pointed at the fierce monster ahead.
"Try again and focus your eyes to that plant."
Yor squinted, focusing on the monster. As he stared, a glowing overlay flickered into view above it:
---
[Boss Monster Spawned
Azakkin, Mother of the Vinewraiths
Kill the boss to proceed.]
Countdown: 4 hours and 47 minutes.
---
"I see it now."
"Alright then—without further ado, let's begin." Rywes raised her voice, rallying the group's attention.
They kicked things off by sharing everything they knew about Azakkin. The intel came from unlucky players who happened to be at its landing point—and were quickly killed.
Rywes then sketched a rough formation in the dirt with her sword, mapping out their positions.
They thoroughly discussed the purpose and importance of each assigned position—something everyone agreed on without complaint.
Then came the what-ifs. Everyone contributed, asking questions and exploring worst-case scenarios.
And to top it all off, Rywes delivered a short speech to boost morale.
"Let's not waste any more time. Let's go!"
---
Later, they arrived at the boss area. Azakkin had already cleared most of the battlefield, leaving only fallen warriors and scattered weapons behind.
Azakkin crawled toward them using its vines like an octopus and let out a shriek.
Its name flickered above it, and its hit points appeared:
[Azakkin, Mother of the Vinewraiths]
[20,000 HP]
"Bro, this is gonna be hard."
"Can we actually kill this thing?" someone in the raid party asked, scratching his head.
Its body looked like a thick, twisted vine. Sharp thorns stuck out along its sides. Its head was like a combination of a Venus flytrap and a dragon.
Its bright blue eyes gleamed, watching with a cold, hungry stare. When it opened its mouth, rows of razor-sharp teeth dripped with glowing green sap. It smelled like rotting plants and dead animals.
Despite the fear, they stood their ground and did not falter.
"I hate how she assigned me as tank," Ludwig muttered, cracking his neck as he wielded a shield and sword.
Unfortunately, Rywes—who was standing beside Yor—overheard him.
"Let's put that aside and focus, please," she exclaimed, shooting Ludwig a cold glare.
Her icy expression pierced straight through Ludwig's heart.
"Woah, don't be so mean, my love—you're hurting my feelings. Besides, Yor's here, and he's smart as hell," Ludwig said, quickly moving behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"He'll take care of that plant," he added, pointing his finger to Yor.
"And I... will take care of you."
Yor looked away and chuckled in amusement after hearing what was possibly the most ridiculously awful pickup line of his life.
"Get off me!" Rywes grumbled and immediately shrugged his arm off with an annoyed look.
---
The game allowed all players to cast basic healing and offensive spells for survival.
Weapons didn't grant skills; they simply enhanced your magic or helped channel it more effectively.
"Get to your positions—now!" Rywes commanded, nocking an arrow to her bow as she prepared for battle.
Her voice rang out over the field like a whip.
"Shieldmen to the front—protect our damage dealers!
Ranged attackers, hold the middle!
Supports, stay at the rear and stay sharp!"
"Remember, even if it looks real, all of this is just a game! Don't be afraid!" she added.
---
Azakkin swung its vines wildly, trying to break through the shieldmen encircling it. The vines were heavy, forcing them to struggle to hold their ground, though some managed to slash through the thick tendrils.
Meanwhile, the mages launched fireballs at the creature's pulsing flower, attempting to burn it down, while the archers scanned for weak points—gaps where their arrows could pierce through.
Then, their rhythm broke.
Something unexpected happened.
Azakkin suddenly lifted itself into the air, its massive body rising with an eerie, unnatural grace. The battlefield darkened beneath its shadow as it hovered above them, vines writhing like serpents in a storm.
With a loud, piercing shriek, Azakkin raised its thickest vines high—then brought them crashing down like a meteor.
"Yor, watch out!" Ludwig shouted, pulling Rywes out of the strike zone.
Yor just stood there, frozen, eyes fixed on something—a faintly glimmering thread that shimmered in the air while Azakkin hovered above.
The impact was devastating—seventy lives were lost in an instant, including Yor.
"Are you okay?" Ludwig asked, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried.
"Why did you save me? You could've saved your friend," Rywes panted, her hands resting on her knees.
"I could've saved you both— but he dodged me."
Ludwig bent down and picked up his shield, which had fallen to the ground when he rushed in to save them.
"Looks like he's onto something."
---
Meanwhile, Yor respawned at the rear of the battlefield. Without wasting a second, he grabbed a sword, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows from the nearby weapon rack.
He turned around to assess the state of the battle and noticed that some of the lizard men were beginning to retreat.
Why are those guys retreating when they just sent Azakkin to battle?
Without wasting time, Yor took off toward the forest at the foot of the mountain on the western side—where Azakkin had appeared.
Back during the fight, when Azakkin flew overhead and briefly blocked out the sun, Yor had seen something—a faint thread glinting in the light, just for a second. It would've been easy to miss if not for that perfect angle.
He reached the edge of the forest, panting, one hand braced against a tree, the other resting on his thigh as he bent forward to catch his breath.
From the direction of that thread, the one controlling Azakkin must be hiding nearby.
He moved through the forest slowly, brushing past thick bushes and low branches. The trees were packed tightly together, making it hard to see far ahead. There was no path—just uneven ground, rocks, and roots in every direction. It felt like the forest was built to confuse him.
His eyes scanned the gaps between the branches above, following the faint path the thread had revealed—hoping it would lead him to whoever was controlling the beast.
Finally, he saw someone strange—not a lizard man, but a human. Old and frail-looking, the man stood inside a glowing magic circle.
Yor crouched behind a thick bush, watching intently from a safe distance.
Above the man's head, glowing letters faded into view:
---
[Flora Enchanter]
[4000 Hitpoints]
---
The Enchanter's irises had sunk deep into his skull, leaving only milky white orbs behind.
His long, white hair swayed gently in the wind as his staff moved slowly through the air. Each motion was deliberate—connecting to Azakkin demanded all his senses, leaving him in a vulnerable state.
He wore a flowing black robe with a subtly shiny, almost leathery finish. Its wide, draping sleeves hung dramatically from his arms.
I should tell this to Rywes.
Yor was about to stand when a loud, heavy thudding echoed nearby. A lizard man charged at him, gripping a bone spear tightly.
"Where do you think you're going, kid?" the creature snarled as it lunged with its spear.
Yor barrel-rolled aside, dodging the attack.
He could've killed me if he was sneaky.
Above the creature's head, a glowing text appeared:
---
[Flora Enchanter Guardian]
[3000 HP]
---
Unlike the lizard man I fought earlier, this one only has 3,000 hitpoints. I'll just try to kill him. After all, I can't escape—I'm lost deep in the forest.
Yor unsheathed his sword and took a classic fighting stance, blade held steady and pointed forward.
The lizard man grinned fiercely and lunged without hesitation.
Yor met the attack head-on, blocking the bone spear with his sword and pushing it aside. In one swift motion, he slashed at the creature's feet, forcing it to stumble and fall.
This one is certainly weaker than the one I fought.
But the lizard man wasn't done. Taking advantage of his fall, he quickly thrust his spear toward Yor's head. Yor barely dodged the strike by leaping backward.
The lizard man flicked its tongue.
"You're one slick bastard, aren't you?"
"Thanks for the compliment."
Guess I'm getting the hang of this game.
This time, Yor struck first. He dashed forward, meeting the lizard man head-on as their weapons traded heavy, deliberate blows.
The lizard man's brow ridge furrowed in frustration—how could a puny human like Yor keep up with him?
Yor parried a heavy strike, but the creature quickly countered with a sweeping kick, knocking Yor off balance.
The bone-tipped spear slammed into the dirt just inches from Yor's face, sending shards of earth spraying across his cheeks.
For a heartbeat, the world froze.
Then—
A dagger sliced through the air and buried itself deep in the lizard man's eye. He let out a guttural scream, staggered back, and collapsed to the ground. Dark blood dripped steadily onto the forest floor.
Wasting no time, Yor grabbed his sword and scrambled to his feet.
He raised the blade high, gathered momentum, and drove it deep into the lizard man's thick skull. Blood splashed across his face as the creature jerked and went still.
Breathing heavily, Yor turned around—just as Ludwig stepped out from behind a tree.
"Wuehh!" Yor jerked back, eyes wide.
Ludwig flinched too, clutching his chest.
"You almost gave me a heart attack."Ludwig muttered as he stepped up beside him. Daggers were strapped to his baldric and belt, and a staff was slung across his back.
Relief settled in Yor's chest the moment he saw Ludwig. The chaos of the fight faded slightly, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to breathe. Suddenly, the forest didn't feel so heavy anymore.
"Thank goodness you came," Yor said, repeatedly patting Ludwig's back with a wide smile.
"Of course, If you die, I die. Because, you're the brawn I'm the brain."
"Um..."
Yor squinted, trying to make sense out of it
"Wait, who's that crazy, old woman?" They both turned their eyes to the Flora Enchanter.
With a quick glare and a sigh, he said, "That's an old man!" like the stupidity was almost impressive.
Yor saw an arrow on the ground, it seemed like it fell when he got knocked off the ground. He bent over and picked it up.
His eyes turned to Ludwig, who was winding up to throw a dagger at the Enchanter.
Yor's eyes widened, his jaw dropped — in his perspective, everything moved in slow motion.
But the dagger just went flying—straight into the void.
"That's weird." Ludwig placed his hand on his chin.
Yor sighed in relief, then seized his shoulders and dragged him down.
"Don't attack yet idiot. We still have to call for backup," he whispered, crouched low behind the thick bushes.
"We can't take him down alone. He might have traps set up around him that we don't know about," he added.
"I only found this guy by chance. If we fail, we'll have to navigate these forest all over again just to find him." He pulled a branch aside slightly, just enough to peek through without revealing their position.
Unfortunately, the dagger grazed an invisible barrier, instantly alerting the Flora Enchanter. His left iris rolled back into his eye, he then snapped his fingers, casting a spell to warn his guardians of a nearby presence.
He then sank his eye back, fully focusing his mind to properly control Azakkin.
Silhouettes of Flora Enchanter Guardians emerged on the horizon of the forest, pushing aside branches as they marched toward Yor and Ludwig.
Nine huge lizard-men stood in a line between the Enchanter and the two of them, blocking the way. Their yellow eyes watched without blinking, claws twitching, ready to strike. There was no way forward — only danger.
"We're so screwed," Yor muttered, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
But then—unexpectedly—Ludwig grinned with excitement.
Yor glanced at him, confused.
"Why are you smiling, man? We're about to die here."
Suddenly, the sound of thudding footsteps and rustling trees filled the air. From the shadows, about fifty players burst into view, running toward Yor and Ludwig—led by the orange-haired guy Rywes had sent.
"Sorry we're late. We ran into a Guardian," said the orange-haired guy with a grin. His short, messy orange hair was easy to spot, and light freckles covered his cheeks. A staff was strapped across his back, and a sword and two daggers hung from the leather baldric slung over his chest.
Yor exhaled in relief.
"You guys arrived just in time."