Phaedon sat on the edge of a building’s roof, overlooking the district below. As expected of a megalopoleis, Artemest was filled to the brim with towering structures, and there was no shortage of roofs with great views if one knew where to look. Phaedon liked roofs—quiet, windy, and calm. They were his favorite places to hang out at ever since he was a child.

  The young man looked down at the streets beneath his feet, the sight of the many cleaners busying themselves tidying them. The Mesogaia district wasn’t the most lucrative district, but it did put a big emphasis on cleanliness. His gaze drifted towards the distance, where the rooftops dipped lower and smoke rose higher. The Drakonyra district that his father governed stood like a bruise on the cityscape.

  Before Phaedon’s father rose to power, Drakonyra was, by all accounts, a much more comfortable place to live in. No matter how much Phaedon thought about it, the district was the way it was now because of his father’s mismanagement. And he was supposed to inherit the mess that man would be leaving behind?

  He scoffed. No way in Lye’s hells was that going to happen.

  Phaedon reached into his pocket, pulling out a small golden pendant in the shape of a mouse-ear flower. It wasn’t made out of actual gold, of course. It no longer had the luster it did all those years ago, when it had been freshly bought from some random market stall. Time had worn many scratches into its surface.

  He remembered vividly the day it was bought, when those tiny hands offered it to him. He also recalled rejecting it then.

  “...”

  Phaedon hung the pendant over the edge, watching it sway with the wind. Maybe he’d be better off throwing it away if looking at it only dredged up memories he’d rather not remember. He probably should’ve done that a long time ago.

  And yet, once again, he placed the pendant back in his pocket and sighed. He wanted to run far away from this city—far away from all the baggage that continued to weigh on him.

  He leaned back and stretched his shoulders. Once the Relic Festival rolled around, things would—

  Phaedon shot up from his seat. Something was in the sky. No, not something—somethings.

  A single wyvern getting into the city was worrying enough.

  How did an entire flock get inside?

  Screams.

  Lilieth heard screams around her. She counted maybe twenty or thirty red wyverns circling above them, blotting the sky. Wyverns tended to stay away from large settlements, so why would they willingly come to a megalopoleis of all places?

  Lilieth looked behind her, minding a worried Cynth holding onto the hem of her dress. She had to protect her, but the young mage didn’t bring any weapons. The longsword she arrived with was too large for her to use effectively, and the shortsword was too damaged to be of any use. Spearman didn’t let her borrow any of the swords he had in his home either as she wasn’t proficient in using one yet.

  “Idiot, focus!” Sibeiya shouted, spear at the ready. “Take Cynthia and go!”

  Lilieth took notice immediately—the shaking in Sibeiya’s voice, the trembling of her hands, and the look in her eyes as she stared above them, at the red beasts.

  Right. She was afraid of wyverns, wasn’t she? She was able to fight against one—but a whole flock of them? Lilieth needed to stay and help, but she didn’t have a sword. And even if she did, she had only started training.

  That’s not an excuse.

  Sibeiya had said that to her once.

  But what could Lilieth do? Was she just going to give excuses again? Didn’t she come here specifically so she wouldn’t have to stand in the sidelines?

  The young mage shook her head. This wasn’t the time! She needed to protect Cynth.

  She took the young girl’s hand and started running towards the center of the city, where the Kastrionis palace was. One of the wyverns, however, landed in front of her with a demolishing strength, shattering the cobble path beneath it. Behind them, other wyverns had also landed; the three girls were surrounded. Lilieth and Sibeiya huddled closer, their backs to each other with Cynth between them.

  Three wyverns were encroaching upon them. The others began terrorizing different parts of the district. Lilieth took a deep breath and began thinking. They didn’t need to kill all the wyverns—just buy time, at least until help arrives. Guards, knights, even some guild adventurers—anyone nearby that could help was welcome. Valery Kastrionis—he was in the Second tier. Even this many red wyverns wouldn’t pose a threat to him. They just needed to survive long enough for him to arrive.

  All of the wyverns charged at once, baring their fangs. Lilieth raised her hand.

  “[Murus]!”

  A wall of earth sprung up in front of her, and the wyvern crashed straight into it. The wall cracked, but didn’t break, and the wyvern staggered back.

  “Awesome!” Cynth exclaimed. The child’s excitement grew at the events unfolding around her. “Do another spell!”

  Behind Lilieth, Sibeiya used her spear to drive back the other two wyverns. She moved skillfully, each strike precise. Yet, it was clear that it wouldn’t be enough. Sooner or later, she would get overwhelmed. The wyvern in front of Lilieth was already recovering.

  The young mage turned around and casted Murus again—multiple times—forming a wall of earth around Cynth.

  “Hey! I can’t see anything!” the girl yelled, her voice muffled by the surrounding earth.

  Once the wyvern in front of Lilieth found its bearings, it lunged for her again.

  “[Enhance Agility I]!”

  Lilieth’s entire body felt lighter, easier to move. She jumped out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding a talon. The beast roared at her. Lilieth placed her palms on the ground beneath her.

  “[Sculpta]!” she chanted.

  The most basic Sculpt spell and the very first she learned—when she used it, any earth she touched became malleable and easy to shape, like clay. She had noticed, over the years of using it, that the earth only became malleable the instant she touched it then hardened once barely seconds after she let go.

  Stolen story; please report.

  With her chant, the earth below her became soft, and she jumped away as the wyvern lunged again. This time, its talons sunk into the earth, then it hardened. The confused beast struggled to pry its own feet from the ground.

  Lilieth checked up on Sibeiya. She was growing increasingly more frazzled by the second. Sweat poured out of her pores as she frantically evaded and struck, again and again and again. And yet ...

  “Gah—!”

  She stumbled over herself, allowing a wyvern to land a hit on her. She blocked in time with her spear, but she was blown back several feet. Blood dripped down her head as she struggled to get back up. The wyvern charged at the fearful Shebauno.

  “Sibeiya!”

  Lilieth ran. She ran, stopped in front of the prone girl, and shielded her with her own body.

  For a moment, her own eyes widened, and before she knew it, Lilieth found herself protecting Sibeiya. It wasn’t something she would do. It wasn’t something she’d ever done before. This sort of heroic act ...

  It reminded her of someone else entirely. Someone beautiful. Someone dependable. Someone ...

  I’ll be here to catch you like my brother did me, so just put your trust in me.

  What was ...

  “—Ah.”

  What was that person’s name again?

  Talons came down, and Lilieth saw a flash. In an instant, the wyvern’s talons were severed from its body. The creature stumbled back, roaring, as a figure appeared in front of Lilieth and Sibeiya.

  “Grits?” Sibeiya called out, her voice hoarse.

  The half-highlander turned to face them, and for a second, Lilieth’s entire body shivered. His once-gentle face was much more wrathful—furrowed brows and eyes that blazed with a rage that seemed barely contained.

  “Where’s Lady Cynthia?” he growled. His anger didn’t seem to be directed at the two of them, but Lilieth still found herself almost cowering.

  “I’m here!” Cynth responded from inside the rock fortress Lilieth made. “Is that you, Grits?”

  Grits breathed out a sigh of relief. “Just stay in there, My Lady.” Then, his muscles tensed, and he took an unfamiliar sword stance. The fire in his eyes intensified as he stared down the wyverns that were slowly approaching.

  Grits rushed in first, screaming with rage and swinging his longsword wildly—each swing somehow cutting something off from the wyverns’ bodies. They didn’t even have time to react. More and more wyverns appeared, and he simply tore through them all.

  Lilieth stood there, stunned. She’d never seen him so ... uncontrolled. He was always so kind and gentle. And yet, there he was—ripping and tearing through wyverns like it was his favorite pastime.

  “You!” Sibeiya grabbed Lilieth’s shoulder as she stood up. Her head was still bleeding. “You need to get Cynthia out of here!”

  “R-right.”

  Lilieth chanted several instances of Murus again, reversing the risen earth and letting it sink back into the ground. Cynth, who was apparently pressing her ears against the rock wall to listen to the fight, fell to the ground with a yelp. Lilieth went to help her up, but Cynth’s eyes were focused on Grits whose roars echoed throughout the air.

  This time, there was neither excitement nor joy on her face. There was only fear and sadness.

  “He’s like that again ...” Cynth whispered.

  “Go!” Sibeiya screamed.

  “You need to come with us!” Lilieth yelled back to her. “You’re in no condition to fight!”

  “Shut up … !” Sibeiya retorted, but she hesitated. She probably knew, deep down, that Lilieth was right.

  The young mage let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed Sibeiya’s arm, dragging her along with them towards the center of the city.

  “Let me go!”

  “Shut up, you stubborn, little ... dung beetle!”

  “Stop calling me that! Again, what does that even mean?!”

  Their retreat, however, was blocked by two more red wyverns showing up. Grits was too distracted by his own rampage to notice their predicament.

  “Shit … !” Sibeiya cursed.

  Just as the wyverns were about to attack, another figure appeared, jumping off from a nearby roof and slamming a chair over one of the beasts’ heads. The chair shattered into wooden pieces, and the wyvern screamed out in pain.

  The figure landed in front of them, a leg of the chair in his hand. Lilieth recognized him as Phaedon, the man she saw at Niko’s clinic.

  “Ah! The mean guy!” Cynth yelled out and pointed at him. They knew each other?

  “The hells’ going on here? Where’s that damned brother of yours?!” It didn’t take long for his gaze to find Grits, and his expression shifted. “That idiot!” Then, he turned to Sibeiya. “You! Give me that spear!”

  “What? No, I can still fight!”

  Phaedon clicked his tongue. “Are all his friends idiots, too?”

  He strode in and grabbed the weapon from Sibeiya’s hands. She didn’t stop him, though her expression was one of immense frustration.

  Phaedon swung and thrusted with the spear, landing slice and jab after slice and jab against the wyverns. He was good. Despite his rough delinquent appearance, he moved like he had formal training.

  “Huddle closer together!” he ordered. “All the wyverns are surrounding this place specifically! There’s no way for us to escape without getting ambushed by them!”

  Lilieth looked upwards—more and more wyverns were appearing. There were definitely more than thirty of them now. What was going on?

  Eventually, even Grits began to tire and retreated a bit to catch his breath. All of them were huddled together in a circle with Cynth at the center.

  “The hells are you doing here?” Grits asked when he saw Phaedon.

  “None of your business, that’s what. What the hells were you doing, running off and leaving the kid behind?”

  “Stop fighting, ladies!” Sibeiya interjected. “We’re in a bit of a pickle here!”

  Lilieth, however, noticed that the wyverns weren’t rushing them. They were instead keeping their distance, almost as if they were waiting for something.

  Then, she heard footsteps against the concrete.

  Lilieth was the first to notice the figure approaching. She walked in between two of the wyverns, placing her hand on one of their necks. The creature seemed to calm down slightly at the gesture.

  She didn’t recognize the woman. She wore an adventurer’s garb, and her blonde hair was tied into an intricate braid. The woman was on the older side—maybe about forty, give or take. The most striking part about her were the tiny fangs that she hung around her neck: dozens of necklaces, each one holding about five or six juvenile wyvern fangs.

  She ultimately captured everyone’s attention, and every fighter grew wary seeing as the wyverns didn’t regard her as a threat.

  “I was wondering why it was taking so long,” the woman spoke. “None of you look like bodyguards ... though, I guess that could just be a disguise. Shame on me, then.”

  “Who are you?” Grits said with his blade pointed at her. “State your name.”

  “And why would I do that? Got feathers in your noggin, boy? Look, I’m just gonna do what I’ve been paid to do and be on my way; got that?”

  “Stay behind me, My Lady,” the half-highlander said to Cynth. “It’s you she’s after.”

  The woman clicked her tongue. “Would’ve preferred to have finished this before you returned, but oh well.” She clapped her hands. “Chow time, sweethearts! Leave the highlander alive, if you can!”

  The wyverns all rushed in, roaring. Grits and Phaedon burst into action, defending both sides, but they wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever.

  A weapon—Lilieth needed a weapon.

  She immediately cast Murus in front of her, creating a roughly two-meter-tall wall of stone. Then, she used Sculpta and began carving at the edge of it with her hands into the shape of a shortsword.

  Even with Grits and Phaedon defending, the two of them weren’t able hold all the wyverns’ attention. One of them slipped past and ran straight towards Cynth.

  “—!”

  Sibeiya pushed her out of the way then dodged a swipe of the beast’s claw. However, she wasn’t able to dodge the beast’s tail that slammed into her, sending her straight towards a wall. Sibeiya fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Cynth was on the ground, struggling to get up as the beast turned to her, fangs bared. Hurry, faster!

  Lilieth finally finished making her stone sword—a shoddy piece of equipment that would likely break after one or two clashes, but it was sharp enough to slice and pierce. It was as good a weapon as she was going to get out of her spells!

  Pushing aside all hesitation, she rushed towards the wyvern approaching Cynth and jammed the blade straight into its throat. The blade didn’t pierce deep enough, however, and the wyvern thrashed around, trying to get the blade out. Lilieth, still under the effect of Enhance Agility I, was able to dodge the swing of its tail. She dove in again and grabbed one of the scales on its neck with one hand, and with the other, she drove the blade in as hard as she could. The beast roared, but Lilieth didn’t let go. She held onto the wyvern even tighter.

  “Come on! Just ... a bit ... more ...!”

  “Lilieth!”

  She heard Grits scream her name. It was only then she noticed that the beast had unfurled its wings—massive red sheets that blocked out the sun above her.

  Before Lilieth could properly grasp what was going on, the wyvern flapped its wings and rose up into the sky, dragging Lilieth with it.