Beastbound: Awakening the Hunter

Moonflowers, slimes...

These were once treasures Oliver could only dream of acquiring, magical resources he had to risk life and limb to find. But now, everything had changed. What used to take him weeks of meticulous searching now only required a few hours of effort.

In less than half a day, he had gathered five Moonshade blossoms and captured three slimes. Their combined value exceeded 1,800 silver coins—a small fortune by any measure. To put it in perspective, a mid-tier wizard’s staff typically cost around ten gold coins. A sum like this could purchase nearly two such staffs or fund a budding mage’s training for months.

Oliver couldn’t help but marvel at the transformation. Once, procuring a single staff had felt like an insurmountable challenge. Now? It was merely a question of choice.

This was the reward of power. With his growing strength and enhanced Forest’s Favor, even the land itself seemed eager to offer its bounty.

“Sell these treasures, and I’ll be able to purchase potions to accelerate my spellcasting mastery,” Oliver mused. He needed to hasten his studies, to reach the critical threshold: mastery of three orange-tier spells and nine red-tier spells. Only then could he attempt the trials at the Mage’s Tower and ascend to the rank of fully-fledged wizard.

When Oliver returned to the academy, he found James and Deniel waiting for him near the gates.

“Oliver, finally! Hector’s been asking for you,” James said, his voice tinged with urgency. “He wants you to meet him in the rear gardens. Says there’s an important mission.”

Important mission? Could it be new developments regarding the wraith incidents? Oliver’s curiosity was piqued. Without a moment’s delay, he headed towards the academy’s gardens.

As Oliver’s figure disappeared into the distance, James and Deniel exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of admiration and envy.

“Unbelievable, isn’t it? He’s already working alongside Hector, a fully-fledged wizard. And here we are, still stuck fumbling through our basic spell exercises,” Deniel muttered.

“It’s no surprise Professor Arcanus chose him as a core apprentice,” James replied, shaking his head. “His progress is... unsettlingly fast. Makes the rest of us look like we’re standing still.”

When Oliver arrived at Professor Arcanus’s quarters, he found Hector and Violanda preparing for battle. Hector methodically polished his wand and longblade, while Violanda inspected a series of enchanted scrolls. The tension in the room was palpable.

Without looking up, Hector spoke. “The Whispering Butterfly—one of Arcanus’s magical relics—has uncovered crucial evidence. One of the town’s lords, Avery, has aligned himself with the Cult of the Silver Circle. It’s likely they’re the ones behind the mountain wraith incidents.”

The revelation caught Oliver off guard. Avery? The same lord whose steward, Walter, had always struck him as unnervingly peculiar? It made sense now.

Oliver’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Looks like I’ll finally get to settle some old scores.”

Hector continued, his tone unflinching. “We don’t have much time. Avery knows we eliminated the wraiths and has already called for reinforcements from the Cult. A venom priest—one of their deadliest agents—is on the way. If we’re going to act, it has to be now.”

Oliver nodded, his gaze steely. He pocketed the scrolls Hector handed him, aware that the coming battle would be anything but easy.

“Avery has become a red-tier necromancer. His magic far exceeds that of an ordinary wizard at this level. And as a lord, he’ll have loyal retainers ready to fight to the death. Stay vigilant,” Hector warned.

The gates of Lord Avery’s manor burst open with a thunderous crash. Andre, the hulking knight, had kicked them down effortlessly. Several guards rushed forward, swords drawn, only to be sent flying by two bone-shattering kicks from Andre’s iron-clad boots.

He marched through the garden like a battering ram, heading straight for the manor’s heart.

From his perch on the upper balcony, Lord Avery observed the chaos below. His eyes narrowed, a mix of frustration and fury darkening his features.

“Damn them,” he muttered. “Those sanctimonious fools. How did they uncover my plans?”

Wasting no time, Avery moved swiftly to his chambers. From beneath his bed, he retrieved a hidden lockbox. Inside was a small, ornate case—its contents undoubtedly precious artifacts or critical documents tied to the Cult of the Silver Circle. Clutching the case tightly, he bolted toward the manor’s rear exit.

But as he stepped outside, his path was blocked. Oliver and Hector, mounted on horseback, loomed before him like specters of justice.

“Die.”

Hector didn’t wait for pleasantries. Raising his wand, he unleashed a barrage of radiant light. The holy magic coalesced into blades of shimmering brilliance, which rained down upon Avery with devastating force.

The ground erupted in a blinding explosion of light and splintered wood as the manor’s rear gate was obliterated. Screams of terror echoed from the servants and retainers, but Avery himself emerged from the blast, his body encased in a shroud of necrotic energy. His defensive spells had absorbed much of the damage.

The battle commenced in earnest. Avery, though outnumbered, proved why he was considered a fearsome necromancer. With a guttural incantation, he summoned a host of skeletal warriors. The air grew heavy with the stench of decay as the undead swarmed forward, their hollow eyes glowing with malevolent light.

Oliver stepped forward, his voice ringing with confidence. “Khal-dar-oth!”

At his command, a tempest of jagged stones rained down from the heavens, crashing into the skeletal horde with relentless fury. The earth trembled as the downpour pulverized bones, smashing through the undead ranks and scattering their shattered remnants like brittle twigs caught in a violent storm.

Hector’s holy magic struck next. Bolts of radiant energy arced through the battlefield, searing through the necrotic energy that animated the skeletons. His spells were devastatingly effective, forcing Avery to retreat further into his own wards.

Meanwhile, Andre and the red-haired shield knight engaged Avery’s remaining guards in fierce melee combat. Andre’s brute strength and the shield knight’s defensive mastery created an unyielding front line, allowing Oliver and the mages to focus on Avery.

But Avery was not so easily overcome. With a wave of his staff, he conjured a writhing swarm of spectral tendrils that lashed out at his enemies. Oliver narrowly avoided one of the strikes, countering with another earth-shattering spell that momentarily disrupted Avery’s concentration.

“Destruction Serpent!”

Oliver raised his staff, the Staff of the Flame Serpent, and unleashed its arcane might. A fiery serpent burst forth, its scales glowing like molten lava. The serpent coiled and struck, its searing flames consuming everything in its path. Avery screamed as the fire tore through his wards, leaving him vulnerable.

Oliver staggered slightly, the Staff of the Flame Serpent trembling in his hands. The fiery serpent dissipated into embers, leaving a wave of destruction in its wake. His vision blurred for a moment, his strength sapped as if the spell had drained the very essence of his being. He gasped for breath, sweat streaming down his face.

"Such power..." Violanda's voice broke the silence, tinged with awe and excitement. She clasped her hands together, her eyes fixed on the still-glowing staff. "No wonder they call it an arcane masterpiece. To think it could unleash such devastation..."

Even Hector, who had been so focused on his own spells, paused to glance at Oliver. His expression shifted from surprise to something resembling grudging admiration. "I thought my spells would decide this fight," he muttered, almost to himself. "But Oliver... you’ve outdone yourself."

In stark contrast, Lord Avery's face twisted in shock and disbelief. His tattered robes smoldered where the fiery serpent had scorched them. He stumbled backward, his fingers trembling as he clutched at a hastily conjured defensive ward. "Impossible," he rasped, his voice raw. "A mere apprentice—no, not even a proper wizard—wielding such a weapon... and casting magic of this magnitude?"

Lord Avery vaguely recalled the name—Oliver. Just an ordinary farmer, yet he managed to become a core apprentice, earning some recognition in the small town. But that was all. As one of the four major lords of the town, Lord Avery didn’t give much thought to him. He certainly never expected that such an insignificant person would deal him such a crushing blow.

Oliver tightened his grip on the staff, his knuckles white. But the effort left him swaying on his feet. Each breath felt like a mountain pressing down on his chest, and his limbs ached with exhaustion. Yet, even in the midst of his struggle, Oliver couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief. In such a short time, he had grown so much, enough to deliver a decisive blow in a battle like this.

Violanda quickly moved to his side, her excitement giving way to concern as she saw his pale complexion. "This spell wasn’t just powerful—it must have drained nearly all your magic reserves." She shook her head, gripping his arm to steady him. "You shouldn’t push yourself like this, especially with an arcane . It’s too dangerous!"

Hector’s expression darkened. "It’s dangerous, yes, but it worked." He turned back toward Avery, whose wards flickered weakly in the dim light. "And now, we end this."

Oliver forced himself upright, his gaze locking onto Avery. Despite the throbbing pain and the dizzying fatigue, a small flicker of satisfaction lit within him.

As the battle continued, Violanda couldn’t help but glance at the ruined battlefield. She clenched her fists, muttering under her breath, "This is the power of the arcane. What a terrifying thing it is to witness."

Hector seized the opening, casting a final spell. A massive blade of holy light descended from the heavens, striking Avery squarely. The necromancer staggered, his defenses shattered.

The battle raged on, but the tide had turned. Though Avery’s magic was formidable, it was clear he could not hold out forever against the combined might of Oliver, Hector, and their allies. One by one, his summoned minions fell, and his spells grew weaker.

Finally, with a defiant roar, Avery collapsed to his knees, his staff clattering to the ground.

As the dust settled, Oliver surveyed the wreckage. The once-grand manor lay in ruins, its gardens scorched and littered with the remains of undead horrors. He gripped the Staff of the Flame Serpent tightly, his heart trembling with awe at the sheer power of the flame spell. To think that even Lord Avery—a red-tier necromancer—could be so easily and gravely injured.

He couldn’t help but marvel at the thought: the key material used to craft this staff, the Flame Serpent scale, was nothing more than a single ordinary scale from that colossal magical beast. One could only imagine how terrifying the true power of that creature must be.

However, just as Oliver stood there, caught in awe, the necromancer Avery, who had been on the brink of despair, suddenly changed expression. A look of surprise flashed in his eyes as he glanced up at the sky. A dark figure was rapidly approaching the battlefield!

Lord Avery’s reinforcements had arrived!

Hector, Violanda, and Andre, along with the others, all had their expressions darken. A sense of impending danger filled the air, and they could feel the threat looming closer, as if the tides were about to turn against them.