Cedar's surroundings shattered like fragile mirrors, fragments scattering into a void of nothingness. The oppressive weight in his chest lifted as the surreal landscape crumbled, leaving him suspended in silence and darkness. With a sharp intake of breath, he woke.
His eyes snapped open to the sight of the forest canopy above. Dusk filtered through the leaves, and a cool breeze brushed against his sweat-drenched skin. For a moment, he lay there, disoriented, his heart still racing from the vividness of the dream.
"You're awake," Ivan called, pulling him back to reality. Cedar turned his head to see Ivan crouched nearby, calmly sharpening his ice spear.
"What happened? Len's voice cut out. Did something go wrong between you two?" Ivan asked, his tone curious but alert.
Cedar hesitated, gripping his staff tightly as he gathered his thoughts. Finally, he sighed.
"Len pulled me into my dream again. He said something about bloody vessels being a vampire sub-race. Apparently, drinking the Magloth's blood could help me grow stronger."
Ivan raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "So, what? You're a vampire now? Weak to holy magic? Do I need to start carrying garlic?"
Cedar couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. "I doubt it. If I were undead, someone would've noticed a long time ago. Still…" He trailed off, glancing at the Magloth's lifeless body.
Ivan followed his gaze. "Still, what?"
"If Len's right, then I'll have to get used to this fast," Cedar said, his voice steady despite the unease in his eyes.
Ivan's smirk faded as he stood and stretched, his expression turning serious. "We'll deal with it later. For now, we need to report back to Commander Veran."
Cedar nodded, pushing himself to his feet. Together, they made their way through the forest, the winding trails bathed in the soft glow of twilight.
By the time they reached the scouting base, the other mages had begun returning. The air buzzed with low conversations as teams reported their findings to Commander Veran. The stern commander stood in the center of the clearing, her sharp eyes scanning the gathered mages, who appeared both tired and relieved.
Cedar and Ivan waited their turn, observing the subtle tension in the camp. Most teams seemed unharmed, though a few more minor injuries—cuts, scrapes, and the occasional limp.
When it was their turn, Veran's piercing gaze landed on Cedar. "Report," she said curtly.
Cedar stepped forward, standing tall despite his exhaustion. "We encountered a Magloth, sir. A three-star monster."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the nearby mages, and Veran's sharp gaze flickered with surprise. "A Magloth? Are you certain?"
"Positive," Ivan confirmed, his tone steady and unwavering. "It had all the signs—crystalline body, glowing eyes, and absurdly high defense. It wasn't easy, but we took it down. We even brought proof."
Reaching into his pack, Ivan pulled out a pair of glowing, damaged eyeballs. Their faint luminescence pulsed with an eerie light, unmistakably identifying them as the eyes of a Magloth.
Veran's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the gruesome evidence, his expression sharp and calculating. After a long moment, he gave a firm nod. "A three-star monster is no small feat—especially a Magloth. Impressive work. I'll ensure this is recorded appropriately."
With a wave of her hand, Veran gestured to her assistant, who immediately began jotting down the details onto a report scroll, the quill scratching quickly against the parchment.
In this world, monsters were categorized by stars—a universal system to gauge their power and threat level. One-star monsters were little more than nuisances, equivalent in strength to novice mages. They posed a danger only to the inexperienced or unprepared.
Two-star monsters, on the other hand, represented a significant challenge. Matching the strength of two-circle mages, these creatures could be dealt with through strategy and teamwork, though fighting one alone often proved dangerous.
Three-star monsters, however, were a different story entirely. At this rank, the innate advantages of beasts became glaringly evident. Unlike mages, who relied on spells and tactics, monsters thrived on raw physical might or unique magical abilities tied to their species.
Among these, some three-star beasts, like the Magloth, were born with abilities that far outstripped the capabilities of human mages at the same rank. The Magloth was infamous for its crystalline body, which was nearly impervious to physical attacks, and its glowing eyes that provided resistance to illusion and vision-impairing magic. Even seasoned three-circle mages often struggled to bring such creatures down.
However, the gap began to close as mages ascended to higher circles. Starting at four circles, elite mages gained access to highly advanced spells that allowed them to dominate the battlefield.
At these levels, mages could leverage Domain Magic—a manifestation of their mastery that enabled them to exert absolute control over a designated area, rendering battles with beasts of equal rank almost trivial.
For instance, a team of five mages working together was typically required to take down a three-star monster. But a seven-circle mage could face off against five seven-star beasts simultaneously and emerge victorious, showcasing the sheer gap in power.
Until mages reached such heights, however, three-star monsters remained a terrifying challenge. The Magloth, in particular, earned its reputation as one of the strongest at its level. Dubbed the "Single Mage Assassin," it was a nightmare for smaller teams, capable of outlasting and outmaneuvering even skilled hunters.
It was almost unheard of for a team consisting of a three-circle mage and a two-circle mage to successfully kill such a creature. That Cedar and Ivan had managed to do so was nothing short of extraordinary.
As the final teams trickled back into camp, the area settled into a practiced rhythm. Tents were pitched, protective wards cast, and fires flickered against the encroaching darkness, their soft glow providing a fragile sense of security.
Cedar sat by one of the fires, his gaze locked on the shifting flames. The warmth licked at his hands, but it did little to thaw the chill of unease that gripped his thoughts.
"You're quiet," Ivan remarked as he settled beside him, his ice spear spinning idly in his hand. The firelight caught its sharp edges in brief, fleeting glimmers.
"Just thinking," Cedar murmured. "About Len. About the Magloth. About… what's next. Len said he's going to teach me blood magic tonight."
The spinning stopped. Ivan turned his head, his expression tempered by both concern and reluctant acceptance. "Blood magic, huh? It's dangerous—more than dangerous. Parents tell horror stories about blood mages to scare their kids into behaving. But if anyone can teach it safely, it's Len. Vampires are practically made for blood magic. If he says he can guarantee your safety, he's probably the best shot you've got."
Cedar tried to return a smile, but it faltered. The knot in his chest remained, heavy and unrelenting, like a shadow that refused to be chased away.
Ivan leaned back, planting the spear beside him. His voice softened, though it carried a steady resolve. "For now, rest. We'll need every ounce of strength for whatever's coming next."
Cedar nodded, his gaze lifting to the sky. Stars dotted the inky expanse, their pale, cold light distant, and indifferent. They seemed to reflect his doubts, a reminder of how small and fragile he felt in the face of what lay ahead.
As the camp settled into a quiet, uneasy rhythm, Cedar allowed himself to drift off, his exhaustion dragging him into slumber. When his eyes reopened, he found himself standing once again in the familiar, unnerving space of darkness.
Thick, viscous blood rose up to his knees, its rich crimson hue almost black under the dim, eerie light. The metallic scent was stifling, and the silence felt heavier than the blood itself.
Len stood ahead, his figure sharp and unwavering amidst the surreal scene. His red eyes glinted in the shadows as a thin smile played across his lips. "Welcome back," he said, his voice low and smooth, a strange mix of warmth and menace.
Cedar swallowed hard, his apprehension returning tenfold. The real lesson was about to begin.