"It’s almost fully recovered."

As the magic crystal in Moen's hand was consumed and turned into waste rock, the magic within his body almost fully recovered.

He couldn't help but sigh. The amount of magic he required to recover was just one high-purity crystal. Compared to Fular, whose immense magic could cause a small-scale "magic tide," the difference was truly like night and day.

He remembered Teacher Mela once saying that the magic capacity of a person could harbor was predetermined at birth.

What followed was merely the difference in development and refinement.

So although the growth of a mage depends heavily on knowledge and effort, is talent ultimately the prerequisite for becoming one?

Well, never mind. Carrying the Campbell name, it seems he’s destined to be a useless salted fish who only knows how to swing a blade.

But if he can't be a mage, being a mage-slayer might not be a bad thing.

Moen weighed Elizabeth in his hand.

Next time he faced a mage, his strikes would have to be more precise. He couldn't let what happened last time repeat itself.

Reflect.

And learn from mistakes.

The words engraved deep in his heart since the moment he named these two blades—each letter stained with blood.

...

Clearing his mind of useless thoughts, Moen looked at the sky.

Above the void created by the earlier combat, the azure sky was dyed crimson by the distant sunset. Fish-scale clouds spread across it, stunningly beautiful.

"It’s already this late."

"Wonder if we can make it out before nightfall."

Moen stroked his chin and glanced to the side:

"Lea, you… huh?"

His inquisitive voice suddenly halted.

In a cluttered area filled with miscellaneous debris, a young girl was bowing her head, sneakily observing something.

She appeared utterly entranced.

This completely relaxed, absorbed posture was exceedingly rare to see in a young girl aspiring to be a future saintess.

"Is it something good?"

Moen asked curiously:

"Why are you so focused?"

"!?"

At Moen’s words, it was like electric waves had shot through the girl’s back. She flinched, hurriedly hiding what she had just been secretly flipping through back into her arms.

"Nothing! Nothing at all!"

The sunset painted her cheeks pink, like ripe apples—fresh and almost glistening.

"Can’t I even take a look?"

"No!"

The girl puffed out her cheeks, clutching her chest tightly, resolutely guarding her treasure.

"Alright…"

Moen scratched the corner of his mouth.

It seemed he really was disliked now.

But, as the last time, it wasn’t intentional on his part.

Tsk.

Just as he thought, someone like him could never get protagonist treatment.

"What… what were you about to ask earlier?"

Having confirmed Moen didn't see anything, Lea patted her abundant waves, breathed out adorably, and changed the subject.

"Oh, right."

Moen lightly tapped his palm:

"I wanted to ask if you had any idea how much longer it’d take us to get out of this forest. My guess is we’re close to the edge, but I’m not certain. Earlier, you…"

"I saw the edge of the forest," Lea replied.

"Really?" Moen’s eyes lit up.

"Yes."

The girl nodded and, calculating on her fingers, added:

"If we hurry, we could reach it in about two hours."

Earlier, she had managed the fastest speed possible in just half an hour.

Now that the enemies were dead, there was no need for such desperate haste.

A slightly slower pace… wouldn’t be too bad.

"Two hours, huh?"

Moen gazed into the distance. Even though the sunset still stretched across the sky, there was still a sliver of the sun visible beyond the outlines of the massive trees.

The sun would likely take a while yet to fully set.

"Two hours should be enough for us to get out,"

Moen considered aloud:

"And even if we can’t make it, it’s fine. The forest’s edge shouldn’t be too dangerous, so taking a brief walk at night seems like a worthwhile gamble."

"It’s better than spending another night in a place like this…"

"I don’t mind spending another night here…"

The breeze carried the girl's faint, murmured whisper.

"Hm?"

Moen frowned slightly.

Was it possible he was hallucinating due to the overextraction of magic?

After all, a delicate beauty who hated snakes and venomous insects, and despised not being able to bathe couldn’t possibly suggest spending another night in the forest.

"Let’s go."

Moen decided to ignore harmless hallucinations and smiled kindly at Lea.

"Alright."

Lea responded with a soft, habitual affirmation, quickened her steps, and reached out to grab the edge of Moen's tattered shirt.

See? A timid girl like her would never agree to staying in a dangerous forest overnight.

"Don’t worry."

Moen drew Elizabeth from its sheath as usual, continuing to lead the way up front while reassuring her with a smile:

"The enemies are dead. This forest should be no danger anymore."

"… I understand."

Crack.

"Are you hurt? If that’s the case, as a gentleman, I could reluctantly help Lea carry something."

Moen glanced toward Lea's overly prominent asset, speaking seriously:

"Just based on visual judgment, I think I can handle this weight."

"No way!"

The girl saw through Moen’s intentions instantly, her small face still tinted with the remnants of the sunset as she pouted adorably:

"Bad guy! Pervert!"

"Tsk! Damn it! How did you figure that out…?”

Crack-crack.

Walking ahead, Moen was midway through his teasing when he abruptly stopped, causing Lea to unintentionally bump into his back.

"Ow… that hurt."

Lea's eyes shimmered with tears. She rubbed her nose angrily and glared at Moen's back, raising a little fist in playful retaliation:

"What… what is it?"

It’s not like rejecting your indecent proposal was worth reacting like this. If you had earnestly asked me…

"Did you hear that sound?"

"A sound?"

Moen’s suddenly serious tone made Lea pause, and she soon followed his lead and grew solemn.

She pricked up her ears, carefully discerning the surrounding noises.

"I don’t hear anything, except the wind, and…”

"Squawk—"

A sharp, piercing cry cut Lea off as she spoke.

Both turned their heads toward the flock of crows soaring out of the treetop not far ahead.

These crows had been drawn to the corpses and patiently waited, hoping to indulge as soon as Moen and Lea left.

That’s why Moen didn’t bother burying Fular—those clever crows would undoubtedly dig the body back up again.

But now, for some reason, the crows were abandoning their close meal and scattering desperately into the distance.

"Something’s wrong."

Moen’s face darkened as he reflexively grabbed the girl’s hand with deft precision:

"Go!"

Moen gripped Lea tightly and sprinted forward.

Lea, showing remarkable presence of mind, cast divine light, enhancing their speed to another level.

At this pace, they could likely reach the forest’s edge in less than fifteen minutes, far faster than initially estimated.

However…

Crack-crack-crack.

As the sound Moen had sought grew louder and clearer, he finally understood its origin.

It was…

The sound of something breaking.

But the problem was, in a forest of towering trees, vines, and soft layers of rotting soil, what could shatter with such crisp clarity?

"Moen."

Lea's voice rose in Moen’s ear, filled with unmistakable terror:

"Look up!"

"Up?"

Moen, focused until now on the path ahead, instinctively glanced upward.

Then.

His pupils contracted sharply.

Following Lea's direction, he finally saw the source of that strange noise.

Directly above them.

In the once-clear expanse of the heavens.

A pitch-black crack was slowly forming from top to bottom.

Crack.

Crack-crack.

Crack-crack-crack-crack.

In this forest, no trees, vines, ground, or moss-covered rocks could produce such a refined, glass-like sound upon shattering.

Which meant the thing that was breaking…

Was space itself.

The gradually fracturing space.

Unlike the small turbulence caused by spatial magic earlier, this was a violent rending of space itself, as if tearing apart fragile cloth to reveal the abyssal void beyond.

The massive fissure seemed to dissect half the sky.

Then, in Moen’s horrified stare, deep within that black abyss looming behind the fracture, a resplendent sun seemed to ascend, dominating all.

But Moen quickly realized it wasn’t a sun.

It was an eye.

A single golden vertical pupil brimming with an aura of supreme majesty.

"What… is that."

Moen’s voice trembled.

…

…

"Lord Eller."

At the misty edges of the forest, Adolf landed from the skies after having scouted the perimeter yet again, looking toward the middle-aged man on horseback with a solemn expression:

"Did you find any traces of the Campbell boy?"

"No."

Eller tightly gripped the reins, the veins on his hands bulging from excessive exertion. He shook his head and replied:

"The men I sent out have yet to report back."

"What about the area covered?"

"This forest is too vast. Even with an army searching through the night, we've barely covered one-fifth of it."

Reporting the details, Eller’s eyes grew darker.

"Moreover, since this is a border region, even for the son of that great personage, I can only spare half the troops for the search. I hope Lord Adolf understands."

"No, I have no right to blame you. Instead, I’m already deeply grateful that you’ve chosen to assist in the search."

Adolf chuckled bitterly at himself.

As one of the esteemed elders of the Adventurers' Association and a renowned Crowned-level combatant of the continent, it was truly absurd that he had managed to lose his employer while personally handling their mission.

If news of this incident spread, his dignity as an elder would be utterly obliterated.

Nevertheless, regardless of the potential humiliation or disgrace, he had to quickly find the young Campbell heir. Failure wasn’t an option—not only would it tarnish his reputation, but he wouldn’t be able to justify himself to the Campbell “Lion King”, let alone to the entire empire.

“Maybe... perhaps I should risk entering the forest to search?”

Adolf stroked his beard, contemplating the feasibility of such a move.

Although the forest was officially off-limits to Crowned, if he restrained his aura and moved quickly, it might be doable.

After all...

"Hm?"

Suddenly, in the distance.

The dense forest erupted with a cloud of birds, scattering into the sky like a dark storm whipped by an unforgiving gale.

Sensing that something was amiss, Adolf—usually unflappable and composed—turned his gaze toward the forest. His piercing eyes locked onto the scene, his face abruptly frozen in sheer horror.

"Lord Adolf!"

Eller, struggling to control his frightened horse, called out anxiously, “What happened?”

“No... No way!”

Still staring fixedly at the distant forest, Adolf didn’t even notice strands of his beard being inadvertently plucked out. His trembling voice was filled with disbelief:

“How could this happen?”

“It's been hundreds of years since there’s been any activity... Why, of all times, now?”

“That Disaster?!!”