The three days leading up to the hunt were a blur of pain and determination.
Liszt's body, soft and accustomed to the indulgences of a spoiled noble, rebelled against the sudden, brutal regimen. His muscles felt like knotted ropes, and his hands, wrapped in rough linen around the practice sword, were blistered and raw.
But he didn't stop.
Every morning, he dragged himself out of bed before dawn. Every evening, he collapsed into it long after the sun had set. He ate the bland porridge with a ravenous hunger he had never known before, his body desperate for fuel to repair the damage he was inflicting upon it.
Marcus was a relentless taskmaster. He offered no praise, only corrections. *"Your elbow is too high."* *"You telegraph your thrust."* *"Again."*
But on the third morning, something shifted.
Liszt stood in the training yard, the wooden sword feeling marginally less like a lead weight. He blocked a strike from Marcus—not perfectly, but with enough force that his arm didn't go numb.
Marcus paused. He looked at the practice sword, then at Liszt.
"You have the spirit," Marcus said quietly. "The body is still weak, but the spirit is willing. That is enough for today."
It was the highest compliment the stoic knight had ever paid him.
Now, the sun was high, casting long shadows through the trees of the Black Forest. The air here was different—colder, heavier, smelling of pine resin and damp earth. It was a primal smell, the scent of a place where humans were not the apex predator.
Liszt sat atop his chestnut mare, gripping a steel-tipped spear. The weapon felt alien in his hands, far deadlier than the practice swords. Beside him, Marcus sat on his black warhorse, a heavy crossbow hooked to his saddle.
Behind them, three soldier apprentices led a pack mule. They were there to retrieve the kill, not to fight.
"Remember the plan," Marcus whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "The Iron-Hide Boar is territorial. It will charge the moment it smells us. I will take the first shot to weaken its hide. You will be the anchor."
"Anchor," Liszt repeated. "I stand my ground and present the spear."
"If you run, it will gore the horse and then you," Marcus said bluntly. "If you stand, the horse might survive. Courage is not the absence of fear, Sir. It is the mastery of it."
Liszt took a deep breath. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
*System,* he thought, his eyes scanning the undergrowth. *Where are you?*
As if in answer, the mist curled into existence, hovering over a game trail to their left.
**[Target Located: 50 meters ahead.]**
**[Target: Alpha Iron-Hide Boar.]**
**[Threat Level: High.]**
**[Advice: Target the soft tissue behind the ear. The frontal hide is impenetrable by your current weapons.]**
Liszt nudged his horse forward, signaling Marcus.
"This way," he whispered.
They moved slowly, the horses picking their way through the underbrush. The silence of the forest was oppressive. No birds sang. No insects chirped. It was the silence of a held breath.
Then, a sound.
*Snort.*
A heavy, wet exhalation, followed by the sound of earth being torn up.
Marcus raised his fist, signaling a halt. He dismounted silently, motioning for Liszt to do the same. They tied the horses to a thick oak tree.
"On foot," Marcus breathed, drawing his crossbow. "Stay low."
They crept forward, crouching behind a curtain of ferns.
Through the foliage, Liszt saw it.
It was monstrous. The size of a small car, the boar was a mass of muscle and bristly black fur. But it was the hide that drew the eye. Patches of grey, metallic scales covered its shoulders, flanks, and head, glinting dully in the filtered sunlight. Its tusks were yellowed ivory, curved and sharp enough to disembowel a man with a single swipe.
It was rooting at the base of a tree, tearing into the roots with savage efficiency.
Marcus raised the crossbow. He exhaled slowly.
*Twang.*
The bolt flew.
It struck the boar in the shoulder, sparks flying where the metal tip scraped against the iron-like scales. The bolt didn't penetrate. It ricocheted away, vanishing into the brush.
But the impact was enough.
The boar squealed—a sound like tearing metal. Its head snapped around, small red eyes locking onto the ferns where they hid.
"Prepare!" Marcus shouted, dropping the crossbow and drawing his longsword.
The boar didn't hesitate. It lowered its head and charged.
It moved with terrifying speed for its size. The ground shook.
Liszt felt a moment of paralyzing fear. The beast was a locomotive of muscle and metal. Every instinct screamed at him to run.
*Courage is the mastery of it.*
He planted his feet, lowering the butt of the spear into the soft earth. He angled the tip toward the charging beast.
"Steady!" Marcus roared, stepping to the side to flank the beast.
The boar ignored Marcus. It saw the spear. It saw Liszt. It saw a challenge.
It accelerated.
**[Impact in 3... 2...]**
Liszt didn't blink.
*Now!*
At the last second, the boar twisted its head, trying to deflect the spear with its iron shoulder plate.
Liszt adjusted. He didn't thrust; he guided. He let the beast's own momentum drive it onto the point.
But he aimed low, just as the system advised.
The spear tip slid off the metal scale and found the soft flesh behind the foreleg.
*Squelch.*
The spear buried itself deep. The shaft vibrated violently, nearly snapping Liszt's wrists.
The boar screamed, a sound of pure rage. It twisted its massive body, the spear snapping like a twig, leaving the tip embedded in its chest.
The impact threw Liszt backward. He hit the ground hard, the air rushing out of his lungs.
The boar, wounded and maddened, turned on him.
"My Lord!" one of the apprentices screamed from behind.
Marcus charged, his sword glowing with a faint, yellow light—Earth Battle Aura. He brought the blade down on the boar's hind leg.
The boar kicked out, catching Marcus in the chest. The knight flew back, crashing into a tree, but he rolled with the impact, rising immediately.
The distraction gave Liszt a second to breathe. He scrambled backward, grabbing a fallen branch.
The boar faced him again, blood frothing from its mouth where the spear tip had punctured a lung. It lowered its tusks for the kill.
Liszt saw it in slow motion. The mist appeared again.
**[Weak Point: The Eye. Strike Now.]**
He didn't have a weapon. The spear was gone.
His hand brushed against his belt. He felt the dagger he had taken from the armory—a simple steel knife for cutting meat.
He drew it.
The boar charged.
Liszt didn't try to run. He dropped to his knees, sliding underneath the beast's lowered head.
The world became a blur of fur and smell. He raised the dagger with both hands, pointing it upward.
The boar passed over him.
Liszt thrust upward with every ounce of strength he possessed, aiming for the soft, pulsating throat.
The knife slid in.
Hot blood poured over his hands, drenching his chest. The weight of the beast collapsed, but Liszt rolled out of the way just in time.
The boar thrashed in the dirt, gurgling. Its legs kicked wildly, tearing up the soil. Then, with a final, shuddering breath, it went still.
Silence returned to the forest.
Liszt lay on his back, staring up at the canopy. He was covered in blood and mud. His chest heaved.
*Did I... did I do it?*
Marcus limped over, clutching his ribs. He looked down at the dead boar, then at Liszt.
The knight's face was unreadable for a moment. Then, he extended a hand.
"A kill shot," Marcus said, his voice rough. "Through the throat. You didn't run. You didn't falter."
Liszt took the hand and pulled himself up. His legs were shaking.
"I aimed for the eye," Liszt lied slightly, remembering the system. "But the throat worked."
"It was a clean kill," Marcus said. He looked at the boar with professional respect. "The hide is damaged, but salvageable. The meat will feed the town for a week. The tusks... are worth a small fortune."
He turned to the apprentices, who were staring wide-eyed.
"Well? Don't just stand there! Dress the beast. We have a Baron to clean up."
As the apprentices rushed forward with knives, the mist appeared one last time for Liszt.
**[Mission Complete: Eliminate the Iron-Hide Boar Threat.]**
**[Reward Claimed: Aura Ascension (Medium) + 1x Elf Seed (Random).]**
Before Liszt could process the words, a wave of heat surged through his body.
It started in his core, a burning sensation that rushed through his veins. He gasped, clutching his chest. It wasn't painful, but it was overwhelming. It felt like liquid fire, forging his bones and muscles anew.
His fatigue vanished. The bruises, the aches, the exhaustion of the last three days—they dissolved under the tide of energy.
He felt stronger. Lighter.
He looked at his hands. They were steady. He could feel a faint thrumming sensation under his skin—a low vibration of power.
*Battle Aura.*
He wasn't just an Apprentice anymore. He could feel the difference. The barrier that had held him back had been shattered.
Marcus watched him closely. "Your aura... it's fluctuating."
"I feel... different," Liszt admitted.
"You've broken through," Marcus said, a note of genuine shock in his voice. "The life-and-death struggle. It is the fastest way to cultivate, but also the most dangerous. You are no longer a common Apprentice, Sir. You have stepped onto the path of a true knight."
Liszt smiled, wiping the boar blood from his face.
*And this is just the beginning.*
"Let's go home, Marcus," Liszt said, feeling the small, hard weight of the new Elf Seed materializing in his pocket. "We have a town to build."
---
The return to Flower Town was a triumph.
They entered through the main gate just as the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of purple and gold. The mule dragged the carcass of the Iron-Hide Boar behind it, a massive lump of meat and metal.
The townspeople stopped. They stared.
Word spread like wildfire.
*The Baron killed the beast.*
*The monster is dead.*
*The forest is safe.*
Liszt rode at the front, his face cleaned but his clothes still stained. He didn't look like a fop. He didn't look like a useless noble.
He looked like a warrior.
Carter met them at the castle steps, his usual stoicism broken by a wide-eyed expression.
"Sir! We heard... is that the..."
"The Iron-Hide Boar," Liszt announced, swinging down from his horse. He landed with a thud, his new strength making the dismount effortless. "Have the kitchen prepare a feast tonight. Distribute the meat to the people. Every family gets a portion."
He looked at the gathered crowd—the hungry faces, the tired eyes. But tonight, there was hope.
"Tonight, we eat," Liszt declared. "Tomorrow, we work. The forest is ours. And we have a dock to build."
A cheer went up. It was small, hesitant, but it was there.
As Liszt walked into the castle, Gort intercepted him in the hallway. The administrative officer looked frazzled.
"Sir! A messenger arrived while you were gone. From Coral City."
Liszt paused. "My father?"
"No, Sir. It's... it's a merchant ship. They were passing by on the river but were afraid to dock due to the bandits and the beasts. They saw the smoke from your feast preparation and sent a boat ashore. They want to trade."
Liszt stopped.
*A merchant ship. On my river.*
The system had given him strength. It had given him a seed. But the hunt had given him something else—something he hadn't dared to hope for so soon.
*An opportunity.*
"Bring the merchant captain to the great hall," Liszt ordered, a dangerous glint in his eye. "I have goods to sell, and a town to advertise."
He reached into his pocket and felt the new Elf Seed. He didn't know what kind it was yet, but he would find out soon.
Flower Town had its first victory. And the Baron of Flower Town was finally, truly, awake.