Far from the outpost—
along a worn dirt path cutting through open land—
a small group moved with purpose.
Cloaks shifted with the wind.
Weapons stayed ready—but not drawn.
One of them broke the silence.
"Hey… Seiferus. Why are we way out near some random outpost?"
The man at the front didn't slow.
Didn't turn.
Seiferus.
"Activist Meredin reported it," he said. "Aether levels have been spiking in this region."
"…Spiking?"
"Higher than normal," Seiferus replied. "Unstable."
A pause.
"And it's not just that."
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
"Weaker monsters have been disappearing."
The group exchanged looks.
"…And stronger ones are taking their place," someone finished quietly.
Seiferus nodded once.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
"…So it's happening again," one of them muttered.
"Yes."
Seiferus slowed.
Just slightly.
His eyes lifted toward the horizon—
toward where the outpost stood.
"This pattern only leads to one outcome."
A faint distortion rippled ahead.
Barely visible.
But wrong.
"A Rift Surge."
A distant boom rolled across the plains.
Then another.
Sharper.
Like something tearing through the air.
Seiferus raised a hand.
The group stopped instantly.
Ahead—
far in the distance—
Something massive moved.
A shadow cutting across the sky.
Wings.
"…You've gotta be kidding me," someone breathed.
The air pulsed.
Seiferus exhaled slowly.
"That's not a small one."
"No," he said.
He stepped forward.
"Move."
They broke into a run.
As they crested a rise—
the full scene came into view.
The outpost.
The battlefield.
And the creature.
"…Someone's fighting it," one of them said.
Seiferus didn't slow.
"Then we're already late."
A figure moved against the wyvern.
Fast.
Precise.
Steel flashing against scale.
"…Who is that?" someone asked.
Seiferus narrowed his eyes.
"…A Swordsmage."
Below—
Filo moved like she belonged in the fight.
Controlled.
Deliberate.
Each strike placed—not wasted.
"She's good," one of them said.
"More than good," another added. "She's holding its attention."
A pause.
"…Why?" someone asked.
Seiferus didn't answer immediately.
His focus shifted.
"…There's someone else."
They followed his gaze.
A second figure.
Still.
Unsteady.
"…That's a kid."
No older than twelve.
Holding—
"…A wand?" someone said, confused.
Silence fell.
"…You're joking."
Below—
the boy moved.
Not clean.
Not refined.
But moving.
"…He's going to die," someone said flatly.
Then—
Filo stepped back.
The group froze.
"…What is she doing?" one of them said sharply.
"She's pulling out?" another added.
"That's suicide."
The wyvern's focus shifted.
Locked.
Onto the boy.
"…No," Seiferus said quietly.
They looked at him.
"…That's intentional."
A pause.
"…She trusts him."
"…You're saying she's letting a kid fight that thing alone?"
Seiferus didn't look away.
"I'm saying she believes he can do something the rest of them can't."
Below—
three adventurers rushed in.
A shield-bearer.
A dual-blade fighter.
A caster.
"They're supporting him," someone observed.
"…They're buying time," another corrected.
The shield-bearer took the hit—
barely holding.
The others followed—
small strikes.
Positioning.
Disruption.
Not winning.
Just surviving.
"…They know they can't kill it," someone muttered.
Seiferus nodded slightly.
"They're creating an opening."
The air trembled.
"…Do you feel that?" someone asked.
Aether began to gather.
Not scattered.
Not wild.
Controlled.
Compressed.
"…That's not normal," another said.
Seiferus's expression sharpened.
"…No."
"It isn't."
The boy's wand began to glow.
Then—
crack.
Light fractured along its surface.
"…What is he doing?" someone whispered.
No one answered.
Because they didn't know.
The wyvern charged.
The boy stepped forward.
Not back.
Forward.
"…He's insane," someone said.
The moment collapsed.
A single instant.
The swing—
The impact—
"Aether—"
A breath—
"—BREAK!"
CRACK—BOOOOM.
Light erupted.
A shockwave tore across the battlefield, distorting the air and rippling through the land itself.
Even from the hill—
they felt it.
In their bones.
The wyvern recoiled violently.
A fracture spread across its armored jaw.
Silence followed.
"…What… was that?" someone said.
No one answered.
Seiferus finally spoke.
Quiet.
Measured.
"…That wasn't a basic cast."
A pause.
"…That was a manifestation."
"…From a kid?" someone asked.
Seiferus's gaze didn't waver.
"…Not just any kid."
The shockwave faded.
Aetherwyn stood at the center.
Arm extended.
Wand glowing faintly with fractured light.
The wyvern staggered.
Still standing.
But hurt.
Badly.
"…I did that," Aetherwyn said under his breath.
"Yeah."
Filo stepped forward again.
"You did."
Behind them—
the outpost fighters lowered their weapons slightly.
"…What kind of spell was that?" the caster muttered.
"No idea," the shield-bearer said.
"…but I'm glad it wasn't aimed at us."
The wyvern lifted its head.
Its eyes locked onto Aetherwyn again.
But this time—
Something had changed.
Not just aggression.
Recognition.
The air around it distorted.
The Rift behind it pulsed faintly.
Filo's expression sharpened.
"…It's pulling back."
"…What?" Aetherwyn said.
"Rift-bound creatures don't fight to the death unless they have to," she said.
"It's reassessing."
The wyvern spread its wings.
Wide.
Massive.
Wind exploded outward as it beat them once.
It began to rise.
"No you don't—"
"Stop!" Filo snapped.
The others froze.
The wyvern roared—
And the sky cracked open again.
It began to escape.
"**No you don't.**"
A voice cut through the battlefield.
Sharp.
Commanding.
From the rise—
A spear launched.
Not thrown.
Driven.
It tore through the air—
spinning—
cutting—
CRACK—THOOM.
It slammed into the wyvern's wing.
The impact exploded outward.
The creature shrieked.
Its ascent broke—
And it dropped.
BOOOOM.
The ground shook as it crashed back down.
Dust surged upward.
Then—
Silence.
The wyvern rose again.
Wounded.
Angrier.
And now—
trapped.
Footsteps approached.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Seiferus stepped into view.
His arm lowered.
His gaze fixed on the creature.
"…Not yet."
Behind him—
his squad spread out.
Weapons ready.
Filo smirked faintly.
"…Took you long enough."
Seiferus didn't look at her.
"You should've finished it."
"I was letting him grow."
Aetherwyn blinked.
"…Now?"
Seiferus's eyes shifted briefly toward him.
Measuring.
"…We'll discuss that later."
The wyvern roared.
Forcing itself upright.
Its wing twitched—
damaged.
Aether pulsed violently around it.
Unstable.
Dangerous.
Filo stepped forward again.
"Alright."
Her tone sharpened.
"No more holding back."
Seiferus extended his hand—
The spear tore free from the wyvern's wing—
and returned to him.
Clean.
Effortless.
Aetherwyn tightened his grip on his wand.
His breathing steadied.
His eyes locked onto the creature.
The outpost fighters repositioned.
Filo shifted her stance.
Seiferus lowered his spear.
The wyvern roared—
Aether erupted around its body.
Wild.
Violent.
The battlefield tightened.
And then—
It charged.