Adlet turned as the green Aura of the Bind Lizard still clung to his body, flowing over his skin like a second, living layer.
The sound reached him before the sight.
A deep, guttural roar tore through the dry air, followed by the violent tremor of the ground itself. Pebbles bounced. Dust leapt upward. Something heavy—something fast—was coming straight for him.
He planted his foot, twisted his torso, and saw it.
A massive beast burst into view, charging with terrifying momentum.
Four meters long, low to the ground, its body was wrapped in thick brown hide and coarse fur—but what truly defined it were the spines. Hundreds of them jutted from its back, shoulders, and flanks, long and razor-sharp, catching the light in jagged patterns as it ran. Its tusked maw gnashed as it tore through the terrain, eyes locked onto Adlet with animal fury.
A Spineback Boar.
An Apex of Rank 3.
Adlet didn't know its name.
But he knew its intent.
The creature thundered forward, earth exploding beneath its hooves.
Adlet moved.
Not by leaping away.
Not by overpowering it.
He slipped aside.
The charge tore past where he had been standing a heartbeat earlier, the boar's massive body missing him by less than a meter. The rush of displaced air tugged at his clothes as the creature barreled onward, spines slicing through scrub and stone alike.
Adlet didn't stop.
He turned with it—already moving.
The boar skidded, hooves digging trenches into the ground as it pivoted far faster than something its size had any right to. It adjusted instantly, head snapping toward him as it charged again.
Adlet felt a flicker of excitement rise in his chest.
Perfect.
He had been searching for an opportunity.
And the desert had answered.
I'll use this, he decided.
Only the green Aura.
No Scarab.
No Ruby Shell.
Just instinct.
Just movement.
The boar surged forward again.
Adlet darted left, then right, feet barely touching the ground as he redirected his momentum again and again. The green Aura reinforced his muscles—not explosively, but smoothly—allowing him to twist, pivot, and accelerate without tearing the ground apart.
He circled the Apex, testing angles.
The Spineback Boar snarled, its charge faltering for a fraction of a second.
Then it stopped.
Its muscles tensed.
Adlet's eyes widened.
Wait—
The boar shuddered—and then its spines flared outward.
A storm of razor-sharp quills launched into the air.
Adlet's breath caught.
The projectiles screamed toward him in a wide arc, filling his vision. Hundreds of spines—too many to dodge cleanly.
Instinct overrode discipline.
Red Aura surged.
The Ruby Turtle Shell formed around him just as the first spines struck.
CLANG—CLANG—CRACK—
The impacts rang out in rapid succession, metal-like screeches echoing as the spines shattered or glanced off his defense. Adlet braced, feet sliding back slightly under the barrage.
When it ended, dust hung thick in the air.
Adlet exhaled slowly.
"…Damn it," he muttered.
He had broken his own rule.
The Spineback Boar roared and charged again, seemingly emboldened.
Adlet didn't move at first.
He watched.
Another volley followed—faster this time. Denser. More precise.
Adlet remained behind the shell, eyes narrowing.
Something felt… off.
Not about the beast.
About himself.
Why does it feel faster now? he wondered.
The spines struck again.
Then stopped.
The boar lowered its head and charged.
Adlet dropped the red Aura.
Green surged back over his body.
The world shifted.
Not visually—perceptually.
The charging Apex slowed.
Not truly.
But to him, it might as well have.
He saw everything.
The tension in its muscles.
The minute adjustments in its hooves.
The way the ground cracked before impact.
Adlet's eyes widened — not in fear, but in understanding.
The world hadn't changed pace.
He had.
Each motion reached him earlier, clearer — as if time itself was giving him room to breathe.
He moved.
This time, he didn't just dodge.
He flowed.
The boar thundered past, missing him entirely as Adlet twisted around its flank, steps light, perfectly timed. The creature skidded, pivoted—
And fired again.
Spines tore through the air.
Adlet didn't panic.
He raised his arms.
Hands glowing faintly green, he swatted aside what he could—redirecting some, shattering others with reinforced strikes—while slipping between the gaps that hadn't existed before.
He laughed—breathless, exhilarated.
This was it.
This was the difference.
It reminded him of his training.
Of Lathandre.
Of acorns flying at his face until his body learned to move before thought.
Minutes stretched.
Volley after volley.
Charge after charge.
Adlet pushed himself—harder, faster—forcing his reflexes to keep up with his perception. His body burned, lungs aching, muscles screaming for rest.
But his mind was clear.
Focused.
Alive.
Finally, the boar faltered.
Its spines no longer bristled.
Its breathing grew heavy.
Adlet slowed.
"…That's enough," he murmured.
He surged forward.
Green Aura flared as he darted behind the Apex, whip forming in his hand. It lashed out, coiling around the beast's rear leg.
He pulled.
Hard.
The massive creature lost its balance and crashed forward, the ground shaking violently as it fell.
Adlet didn't hesitate.
He vaulted onto its back.
Black Aura ignited around his fist.
One strike.
Clean. Precise.
The blow came down like a verdict — skull and stone collapsing together.
The Spineback Boar went still.
Adlet remained there for a moment, kneeling atop its body as pale gray particles rose from the corpse and flowed into him.
Not triumph.
Gratitude.
"…Thank you," he whispered.
He rose, breathing heavily—but smiling.
So that's it, he thought.
The Bind Lizard isn't about power.
It's about freedom.
He resumed his journey toward Ashen, green Aura flowing lightly as he trained his movement along the way.
When the city walls finally came into view, he shifted the massive rhinoceros horn onto his shoulder and headed straight for the guild.
The man at the counter froze when he saw it.
"…You're back already?"
Adlet set the horn down with a heavy thud.
"I'm done," he said calmly.
The man swallowed, eyes wide.
"I'll… I'll report this immediately."
The local guild officer cleared his throat, regaining his composure.
"…Is there anything else you need?" he asked, tone respectful—careful now.
Adlet considered it for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes. Are there other extermination missions available here for a Master Protector?"
The man hesitated, then shook his head.
"Not in Ashen," he admitted. "Most of our urgent cases were… those two."
He paused, then added:
"If you're looking for more work, you have two options. Either visit the other cities along the Vhal—each one manages its own immediate threats—or return to Eresh. All regional missions are centralized there. You'll find the widest selection."
Adlet absorbed the information quietly.
Return to Eresh… or keep moving forward.
His gaze drifted toward the city gates, where the desert stretched endlessly beyond the sandstone walls.
"Stopping in each city…" he murmured to himself.
That felt right.
More efficient.
"I'll continue on the road," Adlet said aloud. "I'll check each city as I reach it."
The guild officer nodded, clearly impressed by the simplicity of the decision.
"That might be the fastest way," he agreed. "And… safer than waiting for trouble to come knocking."
Adlet gave a small smile.
"Trouble doesn't seem very patient out here anyway."
He turned and began walking toward the exit.
Outside, the heat pressed against him once more—not as an enemy, but as a familiar challenge. The walls of Ashen loomed behind him as he passed through the gates, the city already buzzing with the story of what he had brought back.
Ahead lay the desert.
More towns.
More Apexes.
More limits to test.
Adlet tightened the strap of his pack and stepped forward without hesitation.
If strength was forged through confrontation—
Then he would keep walking.
From city to city.
From battle to battle.
Until the desert itself acknowledged him.
And this year…
It had only just begun.