[Quinlan]

  The twin-headed battle axe that reached Quin’s height cleaved the air but missed the panther’s head. The mana-beast ducked the weapon’s arc and rushed in, sinking its fangs into Quin’s thigh. He grunted and shifted the axe’s momentum into a pivot. The back end of its staff smacked the panther’s nose, smiting it away. Before the beast could recover from the jolt, Quin dropped the blade on it again. But a clump of thin vines grew from under the panther’s claws and deterred the axe. Though Quin shredded them apart and went for the beast again, the hindrance gave the panther enough leeway to jump away.

  “Spell,” Quin murmured, adjusting his weight away from the leg that bled. “I have it too.”

  Axe!

  He threw his old axe away and created an axe from the spell while the mana-beast snarled at him from a distance. Every time he swung his new axe, the beast flinched. And Quin grinned before dashing at it.

  The arcs of his battle-axe shattered the rocks, gouged the earth, and hacked the trees. Soon its blade carried the flesh and blood of the Wood Panther. The beast sent its vines at Quin, but his brute force ripped them apart. The panther tried to dodge, but the shrapnel from a missed attack pelted its skin. It howled at Quin but met a raging axe that split its foreleg.

  Amid its cries, as it saw its death inch closer, Quin hewed his axe and sundered its head in half with a grunt. The Wood Panther died without a last whimper.

  Quin roared for his victory.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Axe -: Pathfinder Level 2/5]

  …..

  [Clay]

  Propel!

  Clay traced the spell model in his soul space with a fist full of pebbles. But before the model came to life, the Wood Panther dashed at him. Clay sprung back and dodged the bite of fangs that came for him. The panther missed him, and bit air. Clay also clicked his tongue, for the incomplete spell model crumbled because of the disruption. The mana that he used dissipated.

  He gained some distance again and retried the cast. Yet the panther hounded him without giving him a chance to breathe. Its vines reached for Clay. Its fangs and claws threatened to shred him apart with every attack. Because of the time he needed for his spell, he remained on the backfoot against the Wood Panther.

  If it continued, he would either win but with a serious injury or would need his cousins to bail his ass out. Neither was a scenario he preferred, but he could not stand the grin on those two’s faces if the latter happened. Thus, with a deep breath, he reevaluated the battle. He could win with a gruesome result if he fought in melee. Yet, the spells were his future.

  The Wood Panther jumped at him again while the vines pestered him. Clay dove to the side and rolled away as his thoughts raced. With the future in mind, he had to win this battle with spells.

  And so, he stood his ground and began the cast again. The pebbles had barely floated in his hand and the panther clawed at him. Clay backed off a step, but his focus remained on the spell model. Though what he traced in his spell model shook a little with his movement, he finally completed the cast. The razor-sharp nails gouged his flesh but didn’t touch his bones. As Clay bled, the pebbles shot away from his palm and pelted the panther. It bellowed. At last, the successful cast of his spell changed the flow of the battle.

  Propel!

  Clay took out a handful of pebbles again and rained them on the panther. The beast backed off but couldn’t avoid the shower of pebbles. They ripped its skin apart and drank its blood. It cried again, and Clay cast the spell again. Soon the Wood Panther lost its eyes. It wheezed and limped. Its relentless barrage on Clay stopped. Its vines never grew again. In the end, Clay’s blade accepted the strength of his spell and drilled through the panther’s head. The Wood Panther collapsed with the final whine.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Propel -: Pathfinder Level 2/5]

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  …..

  [Thorin]

  The three cousins were at the same level of Magi, but his cousins held the advantage in spells over Thorin. Because of his inherent weakness, he couldn’t afford any mistakes. So, when the panther dashed at him, baring his fangs that spluttered saliva, Thorin raced through the spell model. Among his cousins, he was the fastest in the cast.

  Papercut!

  The petal-shaped paper blade couldn’t do anything against the withered bark-like skin of the panther, so Thorin hurled it at the beast’s eyes. The paper blade whizzed at the panther, but it blinked. It saved its eyes at the cost of its eyelids and tackled Thorin. A whip of the chained blade greeted the gap where it blinked, however. The blade sliced its jaws and smote it back. Thorin gained some distance again and let his chained blades dance for him.

  Papercut!

  He cast again and sent the paper blade to play the supporting role for his chained blades. The panther howled and used his vines, but Thorin ripped them apart. His paper blade shot at the Panther’s throat, and it reacted with its fangs. Thorin’s chained blades took that chance and sundered the beast’s ears. It shrieked.

  Cuts after cuts, Thorin’s chained blades asked for its blood. The

  spell supported them with its all and pushed the beast to the edge. Nonetheless, its vitality supported it. Amidst the rain of attacks, it darted at Thorin again.

  “Just in time,” Thorin said under his breath. “I was getting tired, not good for my heart.”

  As the Wood Panther closed in, Thorin yanked all his chained blades and whisked them around the panther. Instead of the blades fronting the attack, however, the chains took the lead this time. One after another, they entangled the panther. The more it struggled forward, the more the chains strangled it. Finally, when Thorin used the last drop of his strength, his chains immobilized the panther.

  Yet, a dilemma occurred. Thorin couldn’t spare any energy to kill the panther as he kept it down while the other two panthers kept his cousins busy. And he couldn’t hold on for long. Thus, he made the decision that he’d wished to avoid.

  Thorin tugged the chains and hauled the panther close. Every fiber of his being assisted him, and the overexertion shook his core. But he didn’t relent. In the end, after minutes of tussle, where the panther resisted for its life, Thorin kept it in chains and sank it into the pond.

  The panther thrashed around in the water, but the chains kept it from swimming. It took Thorin beyond his means to maintain his grip on the chain. But at last, the beast exerted its last struggle and its last twitch before it hushed down. The strain on the chains eased up. Thorin collapsed on his knees and panted. He didn’t even get the leeway to heave a sigh of relief. His heart screamed in agony. Nonetheless, he won and deserved the smile of victory.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Papercut -: Pathfinder Level 2/5]

  The prompt from the Archive popped up, but Thorin focused on restoring his breath. By the time he did, his cousins had ended their battles in triumph as well. He was the first to win, and it only added to his grin. Still, he didn’t forget his respect and his prayer for death and the dead. After he pulled the panther’s corpse out of the water, he joined his hands and prayed for it. “Death washes away the hatred. It concludes all conflicts. Forgive me for I didn’t have the strength to give you a merciful death. But I will carry your end with me and live beyond time. So, I hope you rest in peace.”

  “Who won?” Quin asked, dragging his prey to the pond.

  “I did,” Thorin said.

  “Just barely by a minute,” Clay said, tending to the wounds they all suffered.

  “A win’s a win,” Thorin said then checked out his chained blades. “Though I paid a price for it, I suppose.” The chained blades that had accompanied him for years finally yielded to the accumulated damage. The blades had chipped, and the links snapped.

  “Its days were limited anyway,” Quin said. “Our battles will be against Magi and such now. The mortal level chains and blades won't hold on for long.”

  “Alright. Let’s deal with the corpses and move on,” Thorin said.

  “Mine might be a bit of a problem,” Quin said, rubbing his head in embarrassment. “I split its head in half. The Fae-Core is probably done for.”

  “I’ll see what I can salvage,” Clay said and carved up the beasts to get the important parts. The bark-like skin could suit a defensive cloak or even a soft shield. The eateries and the taverns in the street market would buy the flesh and blood, or they could keep it for themselves. The bones could become good artifacts too. And finally, the Fae-Cores would net them the most from this battle. Once Thorin delved into Potioneering, he could use them. But for now, they had to sell them all.

  “It’s really split in half,” Clay said, ripping out two bloody blobs of semi-spherical flesh from the panther’s head that were once one. When he was done, Thorin put all the loot into his space bubble. Everything combined with their other luggage occupied less than a fourth of the space inside. They could continue their hunt for now without worrying about the space.

  “I got this prompt from the Archive when I killed the panther,” Quin said, swiping his hand before him. “I think I leveled up my spell.”

  “I did too,” Clay said.

  “Same,” Thorin said, and the three brothers looked at each other.

  “Coincidence?” Quin asked.

  “No, I wasn’t close to leveling up my spell,” Clay said.

  “None of us were,” Thorin said. They’d leveled up the spells just a day before coming out to hunt after all. “The only common point is that we just fought hard battles. The spells probably level up faster in deadly combat then.” His eyes sparkled. If they were right, the battles ahead would hold much more value for them. Beyond what their prey would earn them, his hand itched to test his mettle against the enemies. The forest ahead just became a treasure chest.

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