Chapter 30: A Reunion in The Great Forest of Lonelywood
Year 0002, IX Month: The Imperium
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The Raging Battle inside the Lonelywood Forest
Battle raged within the dense foliage of Lonelywood Forest. Two distinct confrontations echoed through the ancient trees—Jonathan's group fighting alongside newly arrived reinforcements, and another more violent clash occurring in the distance where August faced off against the formidable Commander Grimfang.
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The Appearance of Barbarians
Jonathan and his companions were caught by surprise when unfamiliar voices called out from ahead. Barbarian-like figures emerged from the shadows, their sudden appearance startling the group who had been focused solely on defending against three Grimfangs that had managed to track them down.
Unbeknownst to them the beast they had slain days earlier, had been a young Grimfang on a solitary training expedition, one destined to become a Commander Rank among its kind. After it failed to return, the pack had begun searching for their missing kin, following its scent mingled with the unfamiliar odor of humans.
What Jonathan's group didn't know—what they couldn't possibly understand from the growls, barks, and howls that constituted the creatures' communication—was that the young Grimfang had been the offspring of the massive beast now confronting them. The enormous creature's eyes burned with primal rage as it towered over them, saliva dripping from yellowed fangs.
Moments later, the enraged parent abandoned Jonathan's group, turning its attention toward the barbarian who had shouted earlier and his companions. This left Jonathan's party facing the two remaining Grimfangs—smaller than their leader but no less deadly.
Fortunately, several barbarians stayed behind to assist. Meanwhile the biggest and most dangerous one was lured away from the site to another field of battle. Jonathan observed with surprise that these fighters were merely children, their small stature disguised by distance. Despite their youth, they displayed remarkable coordination, wielding spears with practiced precision as they engaged one of the creatures. While Jonathan's group focused on the remaining beast, their blades glinted in the dappled forest light.
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The Barbarians in Question
Erik and Bren arrived minutes later, Erik still shaken after watching his arrow bounce harmlessly off the massive Grimfang's hide. He pushed aside his disappointment and quickly assessed the battlefield.
The girls appeared to be holding their own against one of the Grimfang, their movements fluid and purposeful as they dodged attacks and created openings for counterstrikes. The beast had already 8 sustained several wounds, dark blood matting its silver-gray fur.
The main group, however, was struggling. Without needing to communicate, Bren rushed to aid the girls while Erik knocked an arrow and sprinted toward Jonathan's embattled fighters.
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The Fateful Meet
"Damn, this beast is too strong!" Red shouted, deflecting a swipe from the Grimfang's massive paw.
Jonathan grimaced in agreement. Once there had been three of them facing the creature, but now only he and Red stood at the frontline. Chris remained behind them, protecting the children and Theressa despite his own injuries, serving as their final defense should the beast break through.
Jonathan's wooden shield cracked under another powerful blow. Though the Grimfang's body was riddled with arrows and sword cuts, its amber eyes still blazed with murderous intent. The creature's stamina seemed endless, while Jonathan's arms grew heavier with each parry.
A minute later, one of the barbarian children reappeared, running toward them through the undergrowth. Jonathan's mind raced—had they abandoned their companion who had called out the massive Grimfang earlier? Was that lone fighter now facing the enormous Grimfang by himself?
Such a beast would normally require a contingent of twenty veteran soldiers to subdue. Jonathan recalled the terrifying moment when the creature had towered over them before the barbarians arrived. It seemed to have merely been toying with them, like a cat with cornered mice.
*Swish! Swish!*
Erik's arrows whistled through the air, finding their mark in the distracted Grimfang's flank. The projectiles penetrated deep, puncturing vital organs. A smile flickered across Erik's face as confidence returned to him—his arrows could still bite.
Working together, they gradually wore the beast down until it finally collapsed, its last breath escaping in a ragged snarl.
When Erik glanced toward the girls' position, he saw their battle had also concluded. The second Grimfang lay motionless, Bren's spear impaled through its skull. The fighters bore only minor scratches, their faces flushed with exertion but otherwise unharmed.
After catching their breath, the other group approached. The leader—a burly man with a thick beard streaked with gray and shoulders broad as an oak—stepped forward.
"Hello there," he said, his deep voice resonating with gratitude. "I, no, we wanted to thank you for the help. We would have been done for already if not for you."
"You're welcome, sir," Erik replied respectfully, straightening his posture.
"What happened to the other one who yelled before? Is he alright?" Erik asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Oh, August, yo—" Erik began, but was interrupted by a piercing cry from behind him.
"DADDDDY!!!"
Erik turned, visibly stunned at Gel's outburst. *Daddy?* he thought, confusion washing over him.
The bearded man froze, his weathered face transforming as he recognized the voice that had haunted his dreams for months. "Angeline?! ANGELINEEEE!"
He dropped his weapons with a clatter and sprinted toward the voice, heedless of the uneven terrain. When father and daughter collided in an embrace, the force nearly knocked them both over.
"Oh my baby girl... I finally found you," he whispered, his voice breaking as he clutched her tightly, as if afraid she might disappear again.
*"Wuuu... wuuuuu... sniff... sniff... wuuu,"*
Gel sobbed uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face and mingling with her father's as he too wept openly.
Erik watched awkwardly, thinking it an unsightly display—faces contorted, noses running, shoulders heaving with each sob. Yet even he couldn't deny the palpable relief radiating from them both, the tangible joy of reuniting after prolonged separation.
The others withdrew respectfully, allowing the pair their moment while taking the opportunity to rest their weary limbs and clean their weapons.
"DADDY... DADDY... WUUUU… WUUUU…" Gel's cries gradually subsided as minutes passed, replaced by hiccupping breaths and whispered words too quiet for the others to hear.
When they had composed themselves enough, Erik and the others approached cautiously.
"Umm, Gel," Erik began, clearing his throat, "I kind of hate to break it to you during your touching reunion, but we need to get back to the camp, remember?"
Gel nodded, wiping her eyes and snot. "Ah yes, yes, of course, let's go. Daddy, come with us for now," she said, taking her father's hand. "I'll fill you in with the details while we travel. It's not that far; it's just two hundred meters south."
Jonathan nodded, his eyes still fixed on his daughter's face as if memorizing every detail.
Before they could depart, Bren spoke up. "Wait, do we just leave the beasts (Grimfangs) here?"
Betty glanced in the direction August had disappeared. "Hmmm, I'm assuming Gus would want to take them with us though?"
"No," Gel interjected, her gaze following Betty's toward the distant sounds of combat. "Let's gather them in this spot and leave already. I'm sure Gus would appreciate it if we're alive when he gets back." Her voice held a note of concern for their absent companion.
They agreed, dragging the Grimfang corpses together before setting off toward their camp—a defensible position twenty meters up a cliff face, accessible only via a narrow path that provided security against the forest's many dangers.
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The Battle With the Commander Grimfang
NAME: [GRIMFANG]
LEVEL: 8 (33)
RANK: COMMANDER (***)
RARITY: ADVANCE (BLUE)
TITLE: N/A
JOB: N/A
CLASS: N/A
HP: 46,860
MP: 46,860
**DAMAGE: 18,744
DAMAGE NEGATION: 18,744
STAT/SUB-STAT: 1,320
Meanwhile, August was engaged in his own deadly dance with the Commander Grimfang. Arrow after arrow left his bow, each one empowered by the magic coursing through his veins. Unlike earlier encounters, confidence now fueled his movements as he unleashed his considerable power upon the beast.
His mana reserves had also dwindled rapidly [2,750/4,620] as he expended his second quiver of arrows, the use of magic coating in the arrows to amplify its power was a new concept to him.
One that he had just thought of on the fly, a theoretical concept born from his imagination, with the great aide of his confidence to win and experiment on it, against the mighty beast standing before him.
When the last arrow from his quiver flew, he drew his sword and shield, preparing for close-quarters combat. The beast had slowed considerably, its movements sluggish from blood loss and exhaustion. Unlike its previous fierce demeanor it now looked like a proud yet beaten pup.
August had already claimed three-quarters [11,715/46,860] of its health, and now he closed in, channeling 250 MP of his mana, launching an upgrade [WIND BLADE - (CLASS II - NOVICE)] towards the beast—each wind strike dealing [35-50 HP damage] at the cost of [30 MP] per cast. The Grimfang was powerful but mortal, and its life was ebbing away with each gash of wind blade August had fired on it, opening its sturdy hide.
For his finale, August called upon one of his favorite Guardian Beast Skills—the [Piercing Bolt]. Somehow and out of nowhere, his affinity with his Guardian Beast had strengthened to [2/10 stars], allowing him to harness 10% of its formidable power.
Using only 5% of the beast's power consumes a whooping [2,500 MP], almost draining him of his remaing MP. The [Piercing Bolt] with 5% of the beast's power on top of his own [Magic Attack Damage] causing almost 300,000 (Attack) Damage.
It streaked toward the Commander Grimfang, a blinding lance of powerful electric energy that struck the beast's cranium and erupted from the back of its skull.
*Thud!*
The massive creature collapsed on the ground, its final breath escaping in a soft whine as it joined its ancestors in whatever dark afterlife awaited such beings.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE SLAIN AN ADVANCED RARITY COMMANDER RANKED GRIMFANG LVL 8. REWARD/S: 2,000+805 XP POINTS.]
August noted with satisfaction that the SYSTEM REWARD was double what he'd received for the Commander Boarats—impressive for what was merely the lowest-level Commander Grimfang.
"WHOOOO! I WON, HAHAHA!" he exclaimed, chest heaving from exertion. "The rewards seem pretty good too. I wonder what I craft with its body parts." His eyes gleamed with electrifying calculations as he considered the creature's pelt, fangs, and claws—all valuable commodities that it could offer and with the SYSTEMS masterful help he would undoubtedly have a new upgraded equipment sooner than later.
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Overwhelming, One Sided Victory
The battle had drained him completely—more than an hour of continuous fighting, all his arrows spent, and his mana reserves depleted. Yet as he surveyed his trophy, August felt only satisfaction. The rewards far outweighed the cost.
"I wonder how the others are doing," he murmured, suddenly remembering his companions. "I hope they're safe."
With a grunt, he began the laborious task of dragging the massive Grimfang back toward the group's last position. The creature's massive weight made progress slow, but August refused to abandon such a valuable prize. Sweat beaded on his brow as he pulled, leaving a dark trail of blood behind them as he moved through the ancient forest, returning to their camp.
Little did he know that his companions were already safe, and that an unexpected reunion had occurred in his absence—a small light of joy kindled amidst the darkness of Lonelywood Forest.