"I have the cure," Lysander announced, raising his hand. Golden particles danced around his fingers, teasing the promise of salvation. "I can heal every single one of you. I can purge the poison from your blood"
A Rabbit-Kin woman fell to her knees, sobbing. "Please! Please save us! I don't want to die!"
"I will," Lysander promised.
But then, he lowered his hand.
"But not all of you. Not yet"
The crowd froze. The hope that had just ignited threatened to flicker out.
"The medicine is rare. I have enough for many, but not for all"
He looked at his balance again. 10,000 SP.
He could buy 20 fruits
"I will heal the twenty of you who are closest to death right now," Lysander stated, his logic cold but necessary. "System, identify the critical cases"
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Red markers appeared over the heads of the most critical patients—mostly the young children and the elderly.
"You. You. And you."
Lysander moved quickly. He didn't waste time. He purchased 20 Sun-Kissed Nectarines in a bulk buy.
[-10,000 SP]
[CURRENT BALANCE: 0 SP]
He was broke. He had zero points left. He was completely vulnerable.
He walked through the crowd, handing out the glowing fruits to the twenty most critical cases.
"Eat. Live."
The scene was chaotic but beautiful. Golden light erupted in twenty different spots around the clearing. Coughing stopped. Breathing cleared. Eyes brightened.
But when the light faded, there were still eight women standing in the cold, shivering, holding their empty hands. They looked at Lysander with devastation. They weren't angry; they were resigned. They thought they had been left behind again.
Lysander walked up to the eight remaining women. He towered over them. He didn't apologize. A leader doesn't apologize; a leader provides a solution.
Lysander stood before the remaining group. The golden light of the healing ceremony had faded, leaving the clearing in cold, violet shadows once again.
While twenty villagers were weeping with joy, hugging their restored bodies, there were eight souls still standing in the mud, shivering.
They were not just women.
Lysander's gaze fell on a young Rabbit-Kin mother. She was clutching a small boy—no older than five—tightly to her chest. The boy wasn't crying; he was too weak for that. He just buried his feverish face into his mother's shoulder, his long ears drooping low. Next to them stood a pair of twin sisters, barely teenagers, holding hands and trying to be brave, though their legs were trembling from the sickness.
They looked at Lysander with wide, devastating eyes. They didn't ask "Why not us?" They just looked resigned, as if they were used to being the ones left behind.
"I did not forget you," Lysander said, his
voice softer now as he looked at the boy. "I simply ran out of supply"
He turned around, facing the dark, dense forest to the West—the Stratified Domain.
"I am going out there right now"
He pointed to the wilderness where the monsters lived. Where the Rank-B Boss was hiding.
"I am going to hunt. I will kill the strongest beast in this forest, and I will trade its life for the medicine you need"
He knelt down on one knee so he was eye-level with the Rabbit-Kin boy. The black glass of his visor reflected the child's pale, sick face.
"Can you hold on?" Lysander asked, his robotic voice gentle. "Can you fight the cold for one more night, little one?"
The mother sobbed, pulling her son closer, but the boy nodded slowly. "I... I will wait for Mr. Shadow"
One of the women, a Dog-Kin with tears in her eyes, nodded fiercely. "If... if you promise to come back, Lord Zero. We will wait. We will wait forever."
"Good"
Lysander stood up, his cape snapping in the wind.
"I don't break my word."
He turned to Elara.
"Elara"
"Yes, Lord Zero?" She stepped forward. She looked different now—her orange fur was vibrant, and she stood tall without pain—but her hands were still shaking. She was a villager, not a soldier.
Lysander looked at the dark forest. He needed to leave, but leaving them defenseless was a risk. He checked his inventory. He had no spare swords. He had no extra guns. He had spent his last points on the fruit.
"You are in charge until I return," Lysander said, his voice serious. "But I know you don't know how to fight. I know you've never held a weapon in your life"
Elara looked down, ashamed. "I... I haven't. We usually just run"
"You can't run tonight. You have to stand your ground"
Lysander reached into his inventory. He didn't pull out a sword.
SHING.
He pulled out the Adamantine Butcher's Cleaver from the [Gourmet Hunter's Knife Set] he had bought earlier for the bison.
It wasn't a sword, but it was a Rank-B tool. The blade was wide, heavy, and razor-sharp, glowing with a faint cold light. It was designed to slice through the iron hide of monsters; it would easily cut through a bandit's armor.
"Take this"
He handed the massive cleaver to her. It was heavy, but Elara's cured body was stronger now. She gripped the handle with both hands, looking at the terrifying blade.
"This blade is sharper than any sword you will find in this forest," Lysander instructed, his robotic voice intense. "You don't need skill to use it. You don't need training."
He pointed to the unhealed children huddled by the fire.
"If a beast comes... you don't try to duel it. You don't try to be a hero"
He leaned in closer.
"You just stand between them and the children, and you swing this with everything you have. It will cut through bone like paper. Understand?"
Elara looked at the heavy blade, then at Miko and the sick boy. Her fear didn't vanish, but it was replaced by a mother's desperation.
"I understand," she whispered, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned white. "If they come... I will chop them apart"
"Good"
Lysander nodded one last time.
"Keep the fire bright. I'll be back by sunrise"
With a burst of speed, Lysander launched himself from the muddy clearing. He vanished into the silver trees, moving like a shadow on a mission. He wasn't just hunting for XP anymore. He was hunting because
Women and little children are awaiting his arrival
Lysander moved through the Rank-D Zone of the forest like a phantom. He was tracking the mana trail of the Boss, moving silently across the tree branches to avoid unnecessary fights. His goal was speed.
But suddenly, he stopped.
Below him, in a wide clearing illuminated by floating magical orbs, was a sight that didn't belong in the savage Stratified Domain.
"Humans?" Lysander whispered, crouching low on a thick silver branch. "Here?"
He adjusted the zoom on his Iron-Wraith Mask.
It was a group of 21 people.
Twenty of them were young—teenagers, likely around 17 or 18 years old. They were dressed in pristine, matching uniforms: white military-style blazers with gold trim, black trousers, and flowing blue capes. They looked clean, wealthy, and completely out of place in the mud. They were chatting loudly, seemingly unafraid of the monsters lurking in the dark.
"System, analyze"
Whirrr...
[Group: Star-Haven Royal Academy First Year Elite Class]
[Purpose: Field Trip / Low-Tier Dungeon Training]
[Threat Level: Low]
"Students..." Lysander scoffed. "Rich kids playing hero"
He was about to ignore them and move on, but then his eyes landed on the 21st person.
Standing at the front of the group, reviewing a holographic map, was a woman who demanded attention.
She was not wearing a uniform. She was dressed in the attire of a high-class Professor, which somehow looked more dangerous than armor on her.
She wore a tight, white button-up blouse that was struggling desperately to contain her massive E-cup chest. The buttons looked like they were holding on for dear life, straining against the heavy weight of her bust with every breath she took. A black pencil skirt hugged her waist tightly before flaring out over incredibly wide, voluptuous hips and a heavy, shapely rear.
She adjusted her rimless glasses, tapping a riding crop against her thigh. She looked like a strict librarian who had wandered into a war zone, but the air around her was suffocating.
Lysander's instincts screamed at him.
Ding!
[Name: Professor Isabella Thorn]
[Rank: A]
[Class: Battle-Mage]
[Danger: EXTREME]
Rank A..." Lysander froze. "She's a monster in human skin"
He stopped breathing. He activated his Void-Weave Hoodie's stealth to the maximum. If he made a sound, if he released even a drop of killing intent, she would know.
He decided to retreat slowly. He didn't have time for this.
He took one careful step backward on the branch. Silence.
Down in the clearing, Professor Isabella stopped talking mid-sentence.
The students didn't notice. "Professor? Which way is the campsite?" one asked.
Isabella didn't answer. A cold smirk curled on her red lips. She didn't turn her head. She didn't look up. She simply adjusted her glasses, the lenses flashing white.