Chapter 1: Prologue: Encounter with the Goddess

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Rustle... rustle... rustle...

In the heart of a lush forest, the loud rustling of bushes mingled with hurried footsteps echoed through the trees.

The commotion wasn't just from a human but also from animals, their claws scraping against the ground as they ran swiftly.

"Oooooohhhhhh!"

"Ooooooh, ooooooh!!"

"Stop chasing me! Even if you catch me, I'm not giving you anything, hehehe♂! The road is wide open—why don't we just go our separate ways?"

In this remote mountain forest, a game of cat and mouse was unfolding.

To be precise, it was a pack of gray wolves in pursuit of a blond boy—Izzy Aylward—who had made the unfortunate decision to treat one of their lone companions as lunch.

Izzy, for reasons that would likely sound absurd in retrospect, was on a journey toward the westernmost part of the continent.

Now, his journey had hit a major snag. He was being relentlessly pursued by a large pack of gray wolves.

Forced to navigate the jungle's uneven terrain at high speed, his once-impressive stamina was beginning to waver. His breath came in ragged pants, and every step felt heavier.

It didn't help that he was carrying a leather backpack on his back and gripping a two-meter-long black iron spear.

The sheer physical toll made Izzy increasingly anxious.

In life-or-death situations, who could possibly stay calm? Especially when your pursuers—a pack of unsportsmanlike wolves—were looking to tear you apart.

Calmness? That was a luxury Izzy couldn't afford.

The only reason he still had the energy to throw taunts over his shoulder was to distract himself from the misery of his predicament.

Not that the wolves understood a word of his sarcasm, but oddly enough, every time he shouted something, their pace seemed to quicken as though offended by his insolence.

"It's pretty obvious this can't go on much longer. If I keep running, I'll be the first to collapse!"

Izzy leaped over a massive tree root, the spear in his hand moving as if it were an extension of his arm.

Although the spear added extra weight, making it a burden while running, it was also an indispensable companion on his journey. After months of traveling through monster-infested wilderness, the weapon was practically an extension of his own body.

He knew all too well how essential it was to be armed. Out here, where monsters lurked at every turn, fighting empty-handed wasn't an option.

What was he supposed to do—take on a pack of wolves with his bare fists? He wasn't some legendary monster-slaying hero.

Even worse, monsters in this forest didn't play fair—they attacked in groups. Just like the pack of wolves currently nipping at his heels.

"I've got to find a way to shake these mutts," Izzy muttered to himself, zigzagging through the undergrowth. "If I don't, I'm going to run out of steam. Fast."

His eyes scanned the forest for anything that might give him an edge.

The best scenario? Luring this pack of overzealous huskies into the territory of another monster species. If chaos broke out between rival predators, Izzy might have the opening he needed to escape.

As he dashed through the bushes, his mind raced to formulate a plan.

Thanks to his grandfather—a seasoned hunter—Izzy had grown up learning how to both track and evade. He'd been chased by wolves before, but back then, he'd always managed to outsmart them with his stamina and his grandfather's hard-earned lessons.

This time, though, the situation was far more dire.

The reason? This time, Izzy wasn't just the clever prey.

This time, he was the one who had upset the natural order—and the wolves were hell-bent on making him pay for it.

The Grey Wolf Pack!

This was not a creature you would find in your hometown. No, the Grey Wolf Pack existed only in the adventure notes penned by wandering bards.

Their speed far surpassed that of ordinary wolves, making them a terror beyond the reach of normal beasts.

And now, Izzy was truly caught in a life-or-death game of cat and mouse with them.

The kind where losing meant dying.

"Monsters."

That's what they were. Brutal creatures that had roamed in and out of the world-famous underground labyrinth since ancient times. Over time, they began to spread across the surface, terrorizing travelers and adventurers alike.

It was said that the closer you ventured to the underground labyrinth, the greater your chances of encountering monsters, as all of them originated from the labyrinth's depths.

For ordinary people, even the weakest of monsters—be it a goblin or an earth spirit—could pose a fatal threat. Stronger monsters, like the Grey Wolf Pack chasing Izzy, were on a completely different level.

Only adventurers blessed by the gods, empowered with divine grace, could stand a chance against them.

For most, even the sight of a Grey Wolf Pack would send chills down their spine. Wolves always hunted in packs, and their sheer numbers made them an overwhelming threat. Even some low-ranking adventurers would be hard-pressed to face them, let alone ordinary folk.

Izzy hadn't wanted to provoke them.

But when hunger struck, and he stumbled upon a lone gray wolf, the temptation had been too great.

It's said that when a friend visits and brings you food, it's polite to reciprocate. With that spirit in mind, Izzy had used his stash of spices to prepare a remarkably delicious lunch out of the wolf.

And at first, nothing happened.

But wolves were vengeful creatures, fiercely loyal to their pack.

When one of their own was harmed, they would stop at nothing to hunt down the culprit.

And so, here Izzy was, running for his life as the vengeful pack bore down on him.

The chase continued relentlessly until an unexpected event shifted the tide.

"ROAR…"

A thunderous roar echoed across the forest, loud enough to reach Izzy's ears.

His eyes lit up with renewed hope.

That was it!

This was the opportunity he needed to escape.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Izzy surged forward with newfound speed. Despite his slim build, he moved through the woods with astonishing agility, accelerating rapidly.

It was obvious to anyone that the roar belonged to a powerful creature—exactly the kind of distraction Izzy needed.

Unlike the monsters in the labyrinth, the ones lurking in the wild were fiercely territorial. They rarely coexisted peacefully. In fact, when monsters of different species crossed paths, conflict was almost inevitable.

If Izzy could lure the Grey Wolf Pack into the territory of this roaring creature, chaos would break out. And amidst the confusion, he might finally escape.

Afterward, he'd need to find a safe place to clean himself and mask his scent to prevent the wolves from tracking him again.

But in his exhilaration, Izzy failed to notice one crucial detail.

The roar reverberating through the forest wasn't just aggressive—it carried a note of grief, the sound of a creature wounded and on the brink of death.

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest...

"Roar, roar, roar!!!"

"Salvo! Cut it off on the ground! Don't let it escape into the air!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The orders came from a commanding voice, one belonging to the goddess of the Hunting Clan.

Around her, a group of warriors—all women—responded in unison, their discipline unshakable.

In the seemingly endless forest, arrows rained down like a deadly storm upon a flying dragon that roared in pain and defiance.

This was no ordinary hunt. This was a dragon hunt.

The hunting party, twenty strong, consisted primarily of elves and other sub-human women.

They wore light clothing designed for ease of movement, and their primary weapons were bows and arrows. Each piece of equipment bore the emblem of a crescent moon entwined with a bow and arrow, a symbol of their clan.

The huntresses fixed their sharp, hawk-like gazes on the flying dragon. With uncanny precision, their arrows pierced the delicate membranes of its wings, stripping it of its ability to fly.

Grounded and staggering, the dragon could no longer soar into the sky it once ruled. But this injury only made the creature more ferocious.

It roared, a bone-chilling sound that reverberated through the dense forest. Like a wounded beast cornered by hunters, it thrashed with rage and stumbled deeper into the thick underbrush, desperate and dangerous.

At that very moment, Izzy burst through the bushes—bushes nearly as tall as a man—and found himself face-to-face with the charging dragon.

The creature's massive form loomed before him, its eyes alight with fury.

"Human?!"

The huntresses, still in hot pursuit of their prey, froze at the sight of him.

It was utterly incomprehensible. What was a human doing in this part of the forest—a place teeming with monsters?

And why, of all moments, had he appeared now?

It was as if someone had stepped out into the middle of a battlefield, completely unbidden and absurdly out of place.

"Young man, get out of the way!"

The goddess leading the hunt, her radiant blue hair gleaming beneath the dappled forest sunlight, called out sharply.

Almost in the same breath, she drew an arrow from the quiver at her waist, nocked it to her bow, and let it fly with blinding speed.

As the arrow streaked toward its target, her mind raced with a silent prayer that it would strike true. She needed to kill the dragon before it could bring harm to the boy.

No matter the reason behind this bizarre situation, she would not allow someone to be harmed if she could help it.

The goddess's compassion was pure and unyielding—a guiding force as steady as her aim.

---

For Izzy, time seemed to freeze.

His breath caught as he stared at the massive creature barreling toward him, its bloody maw stretched wide and filled with razor-sharp teeth.

He had come here to escape! So why did it feel like he had stumbled into a death trap instead?

Was this fate's way of punishing him for trying to outwit the wolves?

The dragon locked its furious gaze onto him. Unable to lash out at the huntresses raining arrows from behind, it decided to vent its wrath on this lone human.

The creature lunged forward, its hot, foul breath washing over Izzy like the very essence of death.

The world around him seemed to slow. Colors dulled, sounds muffled, and even his thoughts faded into a strange, muted clarity.

It lasted only a fleeting moment.

But when time resumed, the survival instincts honed through countless hardships kicked in.

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

Izzy roared as he swung the black iron spear he had carried through his harrowing escape. The weapon whistled through the air in a deadly arc before slamming into the dragon's neck and throat.

The beast jerked violently, stunned by the sudden and devastating blow.

The goddess's arrow followed an instant later, flying with perfect precision.

It struck the dragon's head, and a burst of black steam erupted from the wound. The creature gave one final, agonized roar before its massive body froze in place.

A heartbeat later, the dragon collapsed, its body dissipating into black crystalline shards that scattered across the forest floor.

Izzy, having thrown his full weight behind his spear, stumbled forward as the dragon vanished.

With nothing to brace against, he fell uncontrollably, his vision spinning.

The last thing he saw was the rough bark of a tree trunk rushing toward him.

And just before he lost consciousness, a dazzling blue shimmer appeared faintly at the edge of his vision.