The next morning, the sky bloomed with soft gold as the sun crept over the distant horizon. Pale light spilt across the clouds beneath the flying ship, turning the endless sea of mist into rivers of molten amber. The vessel hummed steadily through the cold morning air, its enchanted engines pulsing with a low vibration beneath the wooden deck.
Darius stood at the helm, one hand resting lazily against the controls while the other adjusted the ship's direction by fractions. He looked as though he had been awake for hours already. Beside him, Orin leaned over an enormous map spread across the control table, dark circles faint beneath his eyes from a sleepless night of studying monster patterns. Despite that, his expression remained sharp.
Outside, Ronan lay stretched across a wooden bench near the railing, one arm hanging loosely over the edge, utterly unbothered by the freezing wind sweeping across the deck.
Oliver woke next.
A groan escaped him as he pushed himself upright. His back ached from sleeping against the hardwood. He rubbed his eyes, still foggy with exhaustion, and staggered toward the edge of the ship, expecting to see distant roads or maybe scattered villages beneath them.
Instead—
His breath caught in his throat.
Below them stretched an endless forest.
Not simply trees. Not ordinary wilderness.
Spiritreach Wilds.
The canopy rolled endlessly beneath the ship like a living ocean of emerald and black. Ancient trees twisted skyward through layers of fog, their crowns so massive they swallowed the morning light. Strange silver mist drifted between the branches. Even from this height, Oliver could feel something oppressive rising from below, something ancient and hungry.
The forest seemed alive.
Watching.
A violent chill crawled up his spine.
He stumbled backwards instinctively, boots scraping across the deck. His pulse slammed against his ribs as memories surfaced from academy lectures—missing adventurers, mutilated hunting parties, professors speaking in grim tones about regions students were forbidden from entering.
Spiritreach Wilds was not a place sane people explored casually.
Yet inside the control room, Darius and Orin calmly examined their map as though they were planning a morning stroll.
Oliver stared at them in disbelief before looking toward Ronan.
The man was still asleep.
Actually asleep.
Mouth slightly open. Breathing evenly. Completely relaxed.
Something inside Oliver snapped.
He stormed into the control room.
"Do you two even know where we are?" he demanded.
Orin lifted his head slowly. "We're flying over Spiritreach Wilds."
Oliver stared at him. "Just like that?"
His voice rose sharply.
"Darius, are you out of your damn mind? This region is a suicide. People disappear here! Entire hunting squads vanish! What makes you think you can just stroll into it?"
Darius didn't even bother turning around.
"You can always leave," he said flatly. "No one forced you to come."
Orin shrugged without looking particularly concerned. "You still have your own flying ship. We can spare some Aether crystal for the trip back."
The casual dismissal hit harder than shouting would have.
Oliver stiffened.
For a moment, anger warred with humiliation inside him.
So that was it.
They really did think he was dead weight.
His fists clenched at his sides until his nails dug into his palms.
"Fine," he said quietly. "If that's what you want, I'll stay."
His jaw tightened.
"I want to see exactly what gives you idiots this absurd confidence."
In truth, Oliver despised Ronan and Darius. Their arrogance irritated him to no end. Their calmness felt insulting. Somewhere deep down, he assumed the feeling was mutual.
What he failed to realise was that neither Ronan nor Darius cared enough to hate him.
Hatred required energy.
And both of them had long since learned to spend theirs elsewhere.
"No," Oliver continued, forcing steel into his voice. "I'm staying. I want to see what makes you think you can survive this place."
Darius calmly pulled a lever.
The ship slowed.
"We've arrived."
The deck shifted slightly as the vessel descended through the upper layers of mist. The forest rushed closer, revealing enormous trunks wider than buildings and tangled roots sprawling like the skeletons of buried titans.
Ronan finally stirred awake with a slow stretch. Bones cracked softly as he rolled his shoulders and stood.
"We continue on foot from here," he said casually. "Too much noise draws attention."
Oliver gawked at him.
"They actually plan to hunt here…"
His throat felt dry.
"Do they not value their lives?"
Orin and Darius stepped out onto the deck, loosening their shoulders and adjusting weapons with the ease of people preparing for routine work.
Then, without hesitation, both of them jumped off the ship.
Oliver's eyes widened.
"What the—"
He rushed toward the railing just in time to see them land dozens of meters below, Aether cushioning their descent before they vanished into the foliage.
Insane.
Completely insane.
After a heartbeat of hesitation, Oliver swallowed hard and followed.
The rush of wind tore at his clothes during the fall. Panic clawed through him until he slammed Aether through his legs at the last second, hitting the forest floor awkwardly but safely.
Above him, Ronan remained aboard a moment longer.
A massive floating sword drifted beside the ship like a silent guardian. Ronan stepped onto it effortlessly before forming a hand sign.
The flying ship shimmered.
Runes flashed across its hull.
Then the enormous vessel rapidly shrank, compressing into a beam of light that vanished into his storage ring.
Oliver's eyes twitched.
"Of course he has one of those…"
Ronan descended smoothly through the trees and landed beside them without making a sound.
Orin's pupils glowed faintly as he scanned the forest.
"There's a group of Lunara Moths east of here."
"Then we move," Ronan replied immediately.
The group advanced through the dense wilderness in silence.
The forest smelled damp and ancient. Wet earth clung to their boots while unseen creatures rustled through distant undergrowth. Thick roots coiled across the ground like sleeping serpents, and pale blue fungi glowed faintly beneath shadowed trees.
Oliver found himself instinctively lowering his footsteps.
Even the air here felt dangerous.
"Orin," he asked after several minutes, "how do you even know those Aether trails belong to Lunara Moths?"
Without turning around, Orin answered curtly.
"Next time, visit Mindward Tower and ask Sir Arnold to teach you."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"I spent all night studying the movement patterns and residual Aether signatures of the three monster species we're tracking."
A branch cracked softly beneath Oliver's boot.
"Maybe try preparing before missions instead of relying on talent."
Oliver's expression darkened, but before he could respond, Ronan spoke.
"Strategy."
Everyone's attention shifted instantly.
"I'll take the front," Ronan continued. "Orin supports me. Darius, your thunder magic stuns priority targets."
Then his gaze landed on Oliver.
"Do you have anything useful against low-level illusion techniques?"
Oliver hesitated before answering. "A few defensive artefacts. Basic resistance techniques."
Ronan nodded once.
"Good. Protect yourself and stay alert. Help where you can."
Not mocking.
Not dismissive.
Just practical.
That somehow irritated Oliver even more.
"…Fine," he muttered. "I'll do what I can."
Suddenly, white smoke burst beside Ronan.
A second Ronan stepped out of it, stretching lazily.
"What about me?" the clone asked.
Oliver nearly jumped.
Ronan smiled faintly before touching his storage ring. Another ring emerged, silver-black with the name Rai engraved across its surface. Four sleek daggers slid smoothly into the clone's hands.
Orin's eyes flicked toward the clone's left hand.
A faint mark rested there.
Recognition flashed across his face.
"…Good morning, Rai."
"Morning, Orin," the clone replied with a grin.
As they continued forward, Oliver's unease deepened.
"When Ronan summoned that clone, his Aether dropped…"
His gaze narrowed.
"But now…"
The clone's presence was growing stronger.
Rapidly.
By the time several minutes had passed, Rai already radiated nearly half of Ronan's power.
Oliver's stomach tightened.
"What kind of monster technique is that?"
The forest gradually opened into a clearing bathed in soft morning light.
Dew shimmered across the grass like scattered crystal dust. Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy overhead, illuminating drifting pollen and silver mist.
And there—
They saw them.
The Lunara Moths.
Dozens floated silently through the clearing.
The Rank-Three Moonveil Moths looked almost unreal, their wings shimmering like flowing moonlight. Silvery-white fur covered their bodies, pulsing softly with soul-glow. Their crystalline eyes reflected shifting colours with every movement.
Most disturbing of all—
Their wings made no sound.
Not even a whisper.
The clearing was unnaturally silent.
Ronan blinked slowly.
"So we're really killing these beautiful, horrifying butterflies."
Darius snorted.
"Beautiful? Those things will suck your soul dry and leave your corpse smiling."
He pointed toward the silent wings.
"And you hear that?"
Oliver frowned.
"…Nothing."
"Exactly," Darius said. "That's how you know they're horrifying."
Oliver stared at the swarm, throat tightening.
"I should never have come here."
The thought came unbidden.
"I'm going to die because of these lunatics."
Orin crouched beside a tree trunk, observing.
"Rough estimate," he whispered. "Twenty Rank-Three Moonveil Moths. Five Rank-Four Silkmind Moths."
He pointed deeper into the swarm.
Those five looked different.
Their wings carried intricate rune-like veins glowing with soft lavender, teal, and ivory light. Long silver antennae twitched rhythmically through the air as though sensing invisible currents of spirit energy. Their bodies had elongated into graceful, veil-like forms that drifted almost ghostlike through the clearing.
Ronan studied them briefly before nodding.
"Good. No Rank-Five Silvershade Moths. No Rank-Six Lunara adults."
Oliver stared at him.
"You say that like it's reassuring."
The hunt had begun.
And within Spiritreach Wilds, survival was the only law that mattered.
Ronan lowered himself behind thick foliage, eyes fixed on the glowing swarm ahead. The morning light filtering through the clearing painted shifting patterns across his face while distant moth-light flickered between the trees.
The air buzzed with tension.
"These cores should be enough to raise everyone's strength significantly," Ronan whispered. "But the Rank-Four Silkmind Moths are the problem. Their perception is sharp. They'll notice us the second we move too close."
Darius nodded calmly.
"I'll stun them."
Simple.
Certain.
Ronan and Orin exchanged a glance.
"Okay."
Behind them, Oliver adjusted his grip on his weapon, palms damp despite himself.
This was his first true expedition outside controlled academy exercises, and the difference was suffocating.
Inside the academy, resources came through status, family influence, and talent evaluations.
Out here?
None of that mattered.
The wilderness did not care about noble bloodlines.
It only cared whether you were strong enough to survive.
For the first time in his life, Oliver truly understood why students like Ronan and Orin fought so desperately for resources. Nobody handed them power. Nobody guaranteed their futures.
They clawed their way upward with blood and risk.
Meanwhile, he had spent years believing talent alone was enough.
Darius suddenly moved.
His fingers blurred through a chain of intricate hand signs. Blue sparks crackled around his arms as Aether surged outward.
A massive magic circle bloomed beneath the hovering moths.
The air vibrated violently.
Several Moonveil Moths near the outer edge reacted instantly, their wings flashing as they scattered away from the disturbance.
But the ones inside hesitated half a second too long.
CRACK!
A blinding pillar of lightning crashed from the sky.
The forest exploded with blue-white light.
Thunder roared through the clearing hard enough to shake leaves from the trees.
Dozens of moths convulsed midair, their bodies locking as electricity surged through them.
And before the first stunned creature even began to fall—
Ronan moved.
So did Orin.
And Rai.
The three vanished like released arrows.
Fourteen months dropped from the sky like drifting petals.
Orin surged forward first, blade gleaming through the storm-light.
Two Rank-Four Silkmind Moths swept downward to intercept, their glowing wings unfurling defensively as illusion energy shimmered through the air.
But Ronan and Rai only smirked.
The instant their feet touched the ground—
They blinked.
Space twisted.
The two disappeared and reappeared directly beside the falling Moonveil Moths.
Oliver's pupils shrank.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
Silver flashes cut through the air.
One.
Two.
Three.
Fourteen heads fell almost simultaneously.
Bodies crashed into the grass a heartbeat later.
And only then did the sound finally catch up.