The bison was dead and the group was alive.
They had won.
The battle was short, very short compared to normally. They had underestimated the bison's strength, and he broke the shield in only two attacks, causing the group to finish it quickly.
And they did. The battle lasted less than ten minutes, yet, in that short time, three of the five persons were wounded.
The red-haired young man had a long wound on his left arm. The wound was shallow, yet he was still bleeding. The young man was sitting on a giant rock, contemplating the view.
The man in his late twenties had a small hole in his back, he was bleeding too. Luckily, the wound didn't touch his spine, allowing him to walk normally. He was currently waiting for the blond man to apply a bandage.
And the tall woman was currently resting, unconscious. She had been hit too hard, and even her—a particularly resistant woman—was not able to stay conscious.
The group was exhausted after that intense fight. Yet, they still cut the bison into a lot of parts and took the important ones in some bags. They wanted to sell it when they got back.
They also had to take the head for the guild, confirming that they truly killed the bison.
A mercenary at the C grade gains enough money to live his life, but not enough to take as much leisure as they want. They also have to buy their weapons and equipment—the guild doesn't buy anything before the B grade.
After all, C grade martial artists die a lot, and are not rare at all. But it was different at the B grade and above.
Sirius was disappointed to not gain a lot of enlightenment. Yet, he still learned how to move, even a little, his energy inside his body, aiming to concentrate it in one limb.
And even if he was disappointed, he was the one who gained the most. It seemed that he had a talent for that. He was truly gaining too much enlightenment each time. Rosie and Zoe gained nothing, Charlie gained a little, and Colin reached the peak stage—he was only a few steps away before the fight.
Yet, even at the peak stage, someone like Colin would not be able to one-versus-one a beast like the bison. Usually, beasts and monsters are stronger than humans at the same realm and stage.
It's because the human race doesn't have the best physical body to fight at these realms, and are limited by their bodies. That's why, while the human limit is around one hundred kilometers per hour, beasts can reach one hundred and fifty, or even two hundred.
But at the Crimson Step onward, everything changes, and humans become the strongest race. Neither Sirius nor Colin know why, but it was a fact. Be it in books, rumors, or from Crimson Step martial artists themselves, all said that the human race becomes the strongest.
No one knows why. It was simply a fact.
With Colin reaching the peak stage, the group grew stronger, and the number of quests they would be able to accomplish would increase.
"Are we going to leave right now?" asked Sirius. "Or will we wait until Rosie wakes up before slowly returning to Sephoria?"
"I think waiting for Rosie will be the best idea. We won't be able to carry all the bags if Colin is carrying Rosie."
And so, the group was waiting for the tall woman to wake up and be able to walk before leaving. The red-haired young man applied a bandage to his left arm and began to train again.
He wanted to fight someone from his group—a friendly fight obviously—but still a fight, to apply the enlightenment he gained. But the group was too tired for that.
How are they already tired? thought the man. Weren't they at the late stage? The fight lasted less than fifteen minutes. Why are they exhausted like that?
The young man didn't know that he had something special. He only thought he was decent in his speed, and that everything was due to his intense training.
Elsewhere, somewhere around the Bright Village.
Where an intense battle had taken place, where countless corpses lay on the ground—a strange phenomenon happened.
Their blood, even after around one month since the battle, was still exactly the same. The bloody puddles didn't move the slightest. The blood didn't evaporate nor dry. The scene was almost as before.
Almost—because the corpses had started to dry and become skeletons. The smell was ominous and flies were everywhere. Yet, except for the bodies, the scene hadn't moved the slightest.
Then... the blood suddenly got vacuumed by something in the sky. Be it flies or corpses, they didn't move at all. Yet, for the blood, it got sucked at an extreme speed, and in less than a mere second, the puddles disappeared.
As if no one had ever bled in that place.
Elsewhere, somewhere close to Sephoria City.
In a place where lie corpses that the Grand Officer killed—a mountain of corpses, ominous and awful, a horrific place.
The river of blood started to move. Not all the river though—only a very small part of it, about two hundred liters of blood, the equivalent of around forty persons.
And the strange phenomenon happened again. The blood got vacuumed, then disappeared. The place remained as before—corpses, flies, blood, weapons and clothes—as if nothing happened.
The mountain remained unchanged.
Elsewhere, in a place south of Sephoria City—in a giant land bigger than a country, under a bright sun and a clear sky—a young man was training.
The red-haired man was drenched in sweat, his hair blowing in the wind, and his body was as beautiful as a king, dancing under the heavens.
The man was wounded, but he didn't care the slightest. The man was tired, but he ignored the warnings of his body. As if nothing could stop his dance.
And under the heaven, under the bright sun, the hair of the man was scarlet more than ever.
As if, after a moment, they finally regained a gleam of their color, and his hair was brighter than before, perfectly reflecting the sun.