The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long, bleeding streaks of violet and burnt orange across the sky. It should have been the golden hour—that time of day when Bevil Village wound down, when the smell of baking bread and roasting meat wafted from the market square, and children chased the last rays of light before being called in for supper.
Instead, the air smelled of copper and upturned earth.
"AHHHHH!"
The scream didn't sound human. It was too high-pitched, too raw, tearing through the evening calm like a jagged knife.
In the market square, chaos reigned. The frantic rhythm of life had turned into a stampede of death. Wooden stalls that had stood for decades were reduced to splinters in seconds. Apples and cabbages rolled through the mud, crushed under the desperate boots of fleeing villagers. A basket of fresh eggs was stomped into a yellow paste, mixing with the dark fluids pooling in the cobblestone cracks.
It wasn't a raid. It wasn't bandits. It was something far worse.
Standing in the center of the town square, dominating the bloody fountain, was a nightmare made of chitin and hate.
The Dark Mantis.
It towered over the thatched roofs, a monstrosity of evolution standing nearly four meters tall. Its exoskeleton was a deep, mossy green that shifted into obsidian black at the joints, perfect for blending into the deep woods—but here, against the pale stone of the village, it stood out like a grim reaper. Its triangular head twitched mechanically, pivoting with jerky, unnatural movements. Its compound eyes, glowing a malevolent crimson, did not focus on a single victim; they saw everything. They saw the heat, the movement, the fear.
HISSS-CLACK.
The sound of its mandibles rubbing together was wet and sickening, like grinding bones.
Near the fountain, the village guards lay in pieces. These were men who had defended the village from wolves and goblins for years, Level 10 warriors clad in iron chainmail and leather. Now, they looked like discarded dolls. A shield lay bent in half, the metal punctured as if it were wet paper. A spear was snapped like a twig.
The beast lowered its upper body. Its forelegs—massive, serrated scythes longer than a man's body—were dripping with gore.
CRUNCH.
The beast didn't eat with dignity. It clamped its mandibles down on the helmet of a fallen guard. The sound of metal collapsing under immense pressure echoed through the square, followed by a wet squelch. It tore upward, flinging the headless body aside as if disgusted by the metal taste.
"Eek!"
Chief Teddy scrambled backward, his heels slipping in the mud. He had been overseeing the market collection when the monster dropped from the sky. Now, the old man stared up at the horror, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
The Dark Mantis tilted its head. Its antennae twitched, tasting the air. It locked onto the movement.
Teddy felt his bowels turn to water. The pressure was suffocating. This was not a monster meant for the tutorial zone. This was a predator from the deep biomes, a creature that belonged in the nightmares of veterans, not in a peaceful farming village.
Run.
The instinct hit him hard.
"Ah... ah, ah!"
Teddy scrambled to his feet, abandoning his dignity. He turned and sprinted, his gnarled cane thumping against the ground. He didn't look back at the villagers screaming his name. He didn't look back at the merchants begging for help.
Tch! What is a Dark Mantis doing here?! Teddy's mind raced as fast as his legs. The perimeter was checked! This shouldn't be possible!
He could hear the whoosh of air behind him—the sound of giant wings vibrating.
"Move! Out of my way!" Teddy shoved a woman aside, sending her tumbling into a pile of crates. He didn't care.
He needed speed. He needed to survive.
[Skill: Dash]
A faint white aura wrapped around his legs. The wind element gathered at his feet, lightening his body weight. He surged forward, leaving the panicked crowd behind.
"Chief! Chief, wait!"
A young man managed to catch up to him. It was Miller, the baker's son. He was young, fit, and terrified, his face pale and streaked with soot.
"Chief! You're safe!" Miller gasped, matching Teddy's magically enhanced pace with pure adrenaline.
"Yes, yes!" Teddy panted, sweat stinging his eyes. "This is dangerous, boy! That thing... it's a high-level variant. We cannot fight it!"
"Where are we going?" Miller asked, looking to the old man for guidance. "The shelter? The cellar?"
"We need to hide!" Teddy wheezed. "Somewhere sturdy and away!"
"We should run to the forest!"
"No!" Teddy snapped. "It hunts in the forest! We hide here until it leaves!"
They rounded the corner, the screams of the market fading slightly, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thrumming of the beast taking flight.
"Oiiii! Come here!"
A sharp female voice cut through the panic.
Teddy looked up. At the far end of the road, past the split in the path, stood the village smithy. And there, waving frantically by the heavy oak door, was Anthierin.
"Anthierin!" Miller cried out in relief.
She waved at them, urging them to run faster. "Hurry! Get inside!"
But then, Anthierin stopped waving. Her arm froze in the air. Her eyes, usually so sharp and confident, widened until the whites showed all around her irises. She stopped blinking. She stopped breathing.
She looked up.
Teddy felt the temperature drop. A massive shadow swept over them, blotting out the dying sun. It wasn't a cloud.
The Dark Mantis was airborne.
It hovered silently, defying gravity with the rapid flutter of transparent wings. It was directly above them, its long, jagged shadow stretching out to touch Anthierin's feet. The beast's scythes were pulled back, poised to strike, reflecting the orange sunset like bloody mirrors.
"Young man," Teddy said. His voice was suddenly incredibly calm. The panic was gone, replaced by a cold, mathematical calculation.
Miller looked at him, confused by the sudden shift in tone. "Huh? Chief?"
"Thank you."
Teddy didn't slow down. He didn't cast a spell. He didn't draw a weapon.
He simply extended his gnarled walking stick to the left.
It was a precise movement. A lifetime of pettiness and small cruelties distilled into one action. The stick caught between Miller's sprinting ankles.
At full speed, the result was catastrophic.
"Ah—!"
Miller lost his balance. His forward momentum threw him violently toward the ground. He flailed, his arms reaching out desperately, his eyes locking onto Teddy's back. He saw the Chief—the man he had bought bread from since he was a child—sprint past him without a single glance backward.
Why?
Miller hit the dirt hard, the breath knocked out of him. He tried to scramble up.
Anthierin watched from the doorway, her mouth falling open in silent horror. She saw the trip. She saw the calculation.
SCREEE!
The Dark Mantis swooped down. It didn't chase the fast prey. Predators never do. They take the weak. They take the fallen.
THOOM.
The impact shook the ground. The Mantis landed directly on Miller's back, its clawed feet piercing through his clothes and pinning him to the earth like a specimen on a board.
"No! NO! Chief! Help me!" Miller screamed, thrashing against the weight of a two-ton monster. "HELP M—"
The triangular head dipped low. The mandibles opened wide, revealing rows of serrated teeth designed to shred armor.
CRUNCH.
The scream was cut short.
Anthierin covered her mouth, bile rising in her throat. She watched the beast lift its head, something limp hanging from its jaws. A firework of crimson sprayed across the cobblestones, painting the Chief's shadow in red.
"What are you gawking at?!"
A hand grabbed her shoulder.
Teddy shoved her violently back into the shop. "Get inside! Now!"
He slammed the heavy oak door shut and threw the iron bolt.
"Chief..." Anthierin whispered, stumbling back into the darkness of her workshop. The air smelled of cold iron and coal, a stark contrast to the smell of blood outside. "That was... you..."
"He's dead," Teddy said coldly. He leaned against the door, listening.
Scrape. Scrape.
Outside, the sound of heavy claws dragging against stone could be heard, followed by the wet tearing of meat.
"You tripped him," Anthierin's voice trembled. It wasn't a question. "I saw you. You put your stick out."
Teddy turned to face the huddled group in the corner of the workshop. There were six other survivors—a grieving mother, two children, and three elderly farmers—who had made it in before them. They looked at Teddy with wide, tearful eyes, waiting for reassurance.
"How about the rest?" Teddy asked the group, ignoring Anthierin completely.
"They couldn't make it! The village is done for!" the mother wailed, rocking back and forth. "My son... my Thomas... he was right behind me..."
The room filled with the sound of weeping. Everyone looked at the mother with pity, their own fear reflected in her grief.
But no one looked at the woman standing next to Teddy. No one saw the darkness clouding Anthierin's face. Her hands were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. Her mind replayed the scene—the trip, the fall, the indifference.
Was that necessary? Could they both have made it?
She looked at Teddy. The old man was wiping sweat from his brow, his face composed into a mask of tragic leadership.
No. He didn't do it because he had to. He did it because it was easier.
"We are safe for now," Teddy announced, his voice steadying the room. "The Dark Mantis is a formidable beast. Even my guards... level 10 warriors... were slaughtered instantly." He shook his head solemnly, looking at the floor. "I tried to save Miller. But he stumbled. It was tragic."
Anthierin's eyes widened. He stumbled?
"For now, we stay the night here," Teddy continued, looking around the sturdy stone walls of the smithy. "The walls are thick. The beast won't smell us if we stay quiet. Of course, you would allow it, right, Anthierin?"
He looked at her. His eyes were hard, daring her to speak. Challenge me, and you kill everyone in this room.
Anthierin swallowed the scream building in her throat. She looked at the terrified children. "What? S-Sure."
"Anthierin, a-are you okay?" asked one of the elderly farmers.
"I..." She looked at Teddy's hand, gripping his cane. The murder weapon.
"She must be in shock," Teddy interjected smoothly, patting her shoulder. Anthierin flinched at his touch. "Don't worry. The Dark Mantis is not an intelligent creature. It relies on movement. It has poor night vision. It will return to the forest by midnight."
Teddy sighed, walking over to the window shutters and peering through a crack. "We just have to hope... hope that our village still has something left by morning."
"Chief," Anthierin muttered. The word tasted like poison.
"Hmm?" Teddy turned to her, his face the picture of innocent concern.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Suddenly, rushing footsteps echoed outside the shop. Heavy, panicked steps.
The room froze. The mother clamped her hand over her own mouth. The children squeezed their eyes shut.
The beast was still out there. They could hear its wings buzzing, a low-frequency hum that vibrated in their teeth. Any noise would invite death.
Anthierin and Teddy backed away from the door.
Shit! Anthierin thought, scanning the defenses. I should have installed a reinforced bar on that door! If that beast charges, the hinges won't hold!
Then, a voice roared. It wasn't a scream of fear. It was a bellow of challenge.
"RINNNNNNNNNN!!!!!"
The shout was so loud it seemed to shake the dust from the rafters. It wasn't just a yell; it was a declaration of presence.
Anthierin's heart skipped a beat. She knew that tone. She knew that arrogance.
That voice... Could it be... Lexel?!
From outside, the buzzing of wings intensified. A massive gust of wind slammed against the shop as the Dark Mantis took flight. It had found a new target. A louder target.
"Ah!" Anthierin moved before her brain could process the danger. She lunged for the door.
"LEXEL!!!" she screamed, throwing the bolt and swinging the heavy door open.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Teddy roared.
He grabbed her collar with surprising strength and yanked her back. He kicked the door shut again, slamming the bolt home. "Are you trying to kill us all?! He's dead! If he's out there making noise, he's dead!"
---
~Minutes Earlier - Lexel's Perspective~
Lexel sprinted through the narrow alleyways of Bevil Village. His breath came in steady, rhythmic pulls. The new power from the [STR +] node burned in his legs, making every step feel explosive.
He skidded around a corner and stopped dead.
"Holy..."
The main street was a slaughterhouse.
Lexel had never seen a warzone, but his gut twisted at the sight. It was a massacre of the helpless.
He saw the crushed stalls. He saw the bodies of the guards—men he knew were at least Level 10—torn apart like wet parchment. Their iron armor had been sliced cleanly through.
Whatever did this... it's strong. Much stronger than Viscoff.
He saw the beast hovering over a corpse near the Blacksmith's shop, its mandibles working.
Lexel ducked behind a chimney stack as he climbed onto a thatched roof. He needed the high ground.
He narrowed his eyes, studying the creature. He didn't have an Analysis skill to tell him the monster's level or weaknesses. He only had his eyes and his instinct.
Green chitin. Obsidian blades. Fast wings.
It was huge.
Lexel checked his own status quickly.
[Name: Lexel]
[Level: 4]
[HP: 100%]
[AP:10/15]
Level 4.
He had gained three levels after killing Viscoff, but against a monster that ate Level 10 guards for a snack? This was suicide.
A normal person would run. A sane adventurer would hide.
But Lexel felt a strange heat in his chest. It wasn't fear. It was a rhythmic thumping, like a war drum beating against his ribs. The blood of the Zodiac Emperor didn't cringe at the sight of a predator; it boiled with the urge to challenge it.
It's fast, Lexel noted, watching the blur of its wings. But it's distracted.
He watched the beast finish its meal. It was turning toward the Blacksmith's shop. Its antennae twitched, sensing the people hiding inside.
Anthierin is in there.
Lexel didn't hesitate. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gauntlets creaking. He needed to draw its aggro. He needed to be the loudest, most annoying thing in this dying village.
He stood up to his full height on the roof, silhouetted against the purple sky. He cupped his hands around his mouth and channeled every ounce of his lung capacity.
"RINNNNNNNNNN!!!!!"
The sound echoed like a war horn, shaking the shingles under his boots.
Below him, the door to the smithy flew open for a split second.
He caught a glimpse of her—rich chestnut hair tied in a messy, practical bun, and those fierce green eyes widening in shock—before she was yanked back inside by the Chief.
Good. She's alive. Now, eyes on me, ugly.
The Dark Mantis shrieked—a high-pitched screech that shattered nearby windows. It spun around in the air, its crimson eyes locking onto the lone figure on the rooftop.
Buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz.
Its wings blurred. It accelerated instantly, a green missile aimed straight for his chest.
"Well, well," Lexel smirked, rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles. He watched the monster close the distance. Ten meters. Five meters. "I guess you're the one causing all this ruckus."
[Quest Start: Predators of the Village]
[Objective: Kill Dark Mantis]
[Reward: ???]
"Fine," Lexel whispered.
The Mantis swiped.
Lexel didn't block. He couldn't block—that claw was large enough to decapitate him.
He jumped.
Not away, but backwards and up, executing a perfect backflip just as the scythe smashed into the roof where he had been standing.
CRASH!
Thatch and wood exploded. The roof collapsed under the monster's strength.
Lexel hung in the air for a second, time seeming to slow. He saw the Mantis's ugly, alien face inches from his own. He saw the drool dripping from its mandibles.
Clang!
Lexel swatted the side of the Mantis's face with his gauntlet as he fell past it—not a damaging blow, but a mocking tap. A challenge.
He landed in a crouch on the cobblestone street below, absorbing the impact with his new Strength stats. Dust rained down around him.
The Mantis screeched in fury, extricating itself from the ruined house. It turned its gaze downward, mandibles clicking in rage.
Lexel stood up and dusted off his prisoner rags. He raised both fists, taking a stance he had seen his father use once—firm, grounded, and completely arrogant.
"Come down here!" Lexel taunted, his golden eyes burning with battle lust. "Level 4 is plenty to squash a bug like you!"