In the southeastern reaches of the Zephinya Kingdom, the sprawling Biyak Forest stretches its domain. Enveloping much of the southeastern borders, its expanse extends across the kingdom's territorial boundaries. This forest, filled with untamed wilderness, is inhabited predominantly by ferocious mana beasts. These creatures freely roam the jungles, creating an environment so perilous that even the bravest adventurers would hesitate before venturing into its depths.

Yet, nestled within the depths of the Biyak Forest, far removed from the comforts of civilization, a tribe thrives. These resilient people have adapted to the wilderness, establishing their village within the forest's safe zone. For much of their existence, this tribe has remained distant from the contact of the outside world.

The inhabitants of this secluded village were the Ookamantukh tribe who belong to an Antlerian people race known for their distinctive leaf-shaped ears akin to those of deer. The rest of their appearance was almost the same as normal human beings.

This Ookamantukh tribe had escaped a neighboring country and took refuge within the Biyak Forest and have called it home for generations. The Ookamantukh village was formed in a mana-depleted zone which big mana beasts avoided, creating a safe haven for the villagers.

But the threat of smaller-sized beasts was still a problem for the village that attacked from time to time. To protect their village, the Ookamantukh tribe crafted a formidable wall of poisonous plants around their village. Meanwhile, high-reaching trees form a protective canopy, offering concealment from airborne monsters that traverse the skies.

Flourishing over centuries, the village's population has swelled significantly, reaching around 10,000 Antlerians.

Even though they lived simpler lives compared to modern times, the Antlerians were still dressed in clothes woven from grass and animal hides. Their tools were pretty basic too, mostly made from stones, wood, and animal bones.

However, things took an interesting turn when an adventure group ventured into the Biyak forest for a hunt. They unexpectedly encountered the Ookamantukh tribe while the tribespeople were gathering resources. The adventurers tried striking up a conversation, but the tribespeople were timid and quickly disappeared into the dense forest.

Despite their efforts, the adventurers couldn't locate the tribe's village. Eventually, they gave up and returned home, informing the adventurer's guild about what had happened.

Now, it's been around a week since this incident occurred, and things have been relatively calm.

A group of four mysterious individuals wandered through the Biyak forest. The party comprised three men and one woman, all clad in dazzling white attire, appearing to be on a quest to find something of significance.

In their wake lay a trail of blood and the lifeless bodies of mana beasts, evidence of their journey through the forest.

A single glance would tell you that these individuals were far from your typical group of adventurers. They didn't carry heavy equipment and rations typically used by adventurers in such a dangerous forest.

Leading this unique group was a man in his forties, seemingly the oldest among them. His hair displayed streaks of gray, and his arms hinted at the frailty that often accompanies advanced age. At this moment, his focus was on a mysterious purple horn, studying it intently before surveying the area around him.

His three companions waited patiently, anticipating his next move.

"Silas, are we there yet?" inquired one of the impatient companions, stepping forward. This man appeared youthful and muscular, with spiky crimson hair and teeth that resembled sharp fangs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

Silas, the name of the elderly man holding the horn, shifted his position. He seemed to be using the horn to guide their path.

"It's faint, but I sense we're nearly there," replied Silas, the weight of his years evident in his voice.

The crimson-haired man's frustration surfaced suddenly,

"This must be the fourth time you've said that," he retorted, pointing towards the fallen monster beasts, "All we've encountered are these puny creatures for me to battle. I didn't come here for a jungle safari!"

A companion next to him interjected,

"Belarus, could you please be quiet and allow the old man to work? Your constant chatter is distracting and getting us further delayed."

The man who had just insulted the beastly crimson-haired Belarus stood in stark contrast to him. With golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he exuded an air of grace and elegance. He was impeccably dressed, complete with a stylish fedora hat perched on his head. He possessed the looks and charm of a fairy tale prince come to life.

Currently, he gazed down at Belarus as if he was a nuisance.

“Hah! It seems you're eager for a fight, Kraven,” Belarus responded with an irritated grin.

Kraven stood his ground, "Perhaps I should freeze that foul mouth of yours shut."

"Give it a shot," challenged Belarus.

Standing beside the potential combatants was a young woman of timid appearance. Her hair cascaded untidily, and dark circles framed her eyes, suggesting sleepless nights.

She interjected,

"Um, Silas has already moved ahead. We should follow quickly, or we might lose him."

The brewing conflict between the two men subsided at her words.

"Let's proceed. I'd rather not spend any more time in this forest with him," Kraven stated, trailing Silas.

“I don’t get why you are here, Kraven” muttered an agitated Belarus as he followed suit.

Deeper into the forest the four ventured until Silas signaled them to halt.

Before them stood a barrier of poisonous plants, meticulously arranged as if forming a fence. It was the plants that the Antlerian people had planted.

Even the surrounding ground was barren, because of the toxicity of these plants, deterring even the forest's native vegetation.

Silas's gaze settled on the plant barrier,

"Hmm, it should be inside. This is where the village is located."

Kraven appeared impressed,

"Primitive as these villagers may be, they still have some intellect to use such methods to survive in this treacherous forest. Admirable for such a lowly tribe."

Belarus finally stepped forward looking enthusiastic,

"Such a meager fence is nothing to brag about. Get aside I shall easily burn a hole through this barricade—"

"No," Silas intervened abruptly, "Your flames would create smoke and alarm those tribesfolk. We need to catch them in one fell swoop."

Belarus suddenly looked dejected and stood back with droopy shoulders.

Silas turned to a handsome man,

"Kraven, use your ability to create the passage."

Kraven gave a nod and positioned himself in front of the barrier made of poisonous plants.

With a swift wave of his hand, a remarkable transformation began to unfold. The poisonous plants, once lush with life, started to undergo a profound change. As if responding to his command, they began to freeze, their vitality giving way to an icy embrace.

A rush of frigid air swept through the surroundings, carrying an unmistakable chill that seemed to touch everything it reached. In a matter of moments, the plants that had stood as a formidable barrier were transformed into frozen, glistening icicle sculptures, their once vibrant forms now captured in delicate, frozen beauty.

Kraven then stepped forward and pushed the plants gently with his hands. The crystalline plants instantly shattered like glass, forming a path for their discreet entry.

Silas and the group then stepped forward and entered the territory of Ookamantukh village.

Before advancing any further, Silas abruptly halted, extracting a pocket watch from his pocket.

His index finger made contact with his forehead as he chanted, "Time regal seal."

In the blink of an eye, a sizable translucent barrier manifested, encompassing the entire area around the village in itself. The image of ethereal clock hands materialized on the barrier's surface. This ethereal shield encased the vicinity, lingering for a few minutes before vanishing.

"The time seal is in place but it's still possible for the villagers to escape it," Silas informed.

Kraven nodded in acknowledgment, his focus intense, "Leave it to me,"

Stepping forward, Kraven dramatically spread his arms wide,

"Eris, Frost Cage of the Damsel," he declared.

In the next instant, the forest shook for a second and a colossal fence of ice emerged, where the poisonous barricade once stood circling the village. The icy fence towered over even the tallest trees and it almost looked like a scene from a fairy tale. The frost emanating from the fence was so cold that it extended to the surrounding area, creating an icy terrain. Any potential life that approaches the fence would likely find themselves frozen before even reaching it.

They had managed to separate the village from the outside world.

"Excellent work," Silas praised.

Kraven, slightly out of breath, inquired,

"That's nothing. By the way, where's Belarus?"

The woman next to them pointed casually,

"I saw him charging ahead."

Silas's expression turned agitated as he muttered,

"That reckless fool!"

Kraven let out a sigh, "This is exactly what I dislike him,"

In the Ookamantukh village, a sense of unrest began to spread among the residents. The sight of the towering ice fence enveloping around their village raised alarms and ignited concerns. The villagers swiftly gathered in their tribal chief's house, seeking his guidance for such a change. The villagers were mostly young men and other elderly Antlerians concerned about the strange icy walls.

The chief, an elderly and sagacious figure, was their beacon of wisdom.

"It's prudent to assume that we are facing a big threat," the chief began, his voice steady despite the tension, "Our best course of action now is to avoid further provocation, instead we should initiate a dialogue with the one who cast that magic spell."

A wave of agitation surged through the villagers hearing the tribal chief's decision.

The villager's voices rose in discord:

"Dialogue? Chief, they've trapped us in our home!"

"Why negotiate with those who threaten us?"

"Let the blessed children take care of these aggressors!"

"Exactly let us show them our might!"

"Silence!" bellowed the chief, his staff tapping resoundingly on the ground, immediately quelling the room's chatter.

"Listen!" his voice commanded authority, "The force that erected those ice walls wields power beyond our imaginations. They've even eradicated the numerous wild beasts of the jungle that I could hear the spirit of the forest weeping. The approaching aura is saturated with bloodlust and ominous intent. Whoever they are, they eclipse even the mightiest among the blessed children."

A collective sense of dread swept through the room, the weight of the chief's words settling heavily upon them.

The village chief rose to his feet once more. "If you wish to ensure the safety of your children, our best course of action is to comply with their demands. Later, I will seek assistance from the proclaimed holy protectors of our realm, the Heavenly Virtues. As the tribal chief, I will beseech their aid in restoring peace to our village."

He then lowered his head solemnly. "Please, refrain from combat. If you survive, you will have the opportunity to fight when the time is right."

The villagers engaged in a brief exchange of words:

"Please, raise your head, Tribal Chief!"

"If even the mother jungle is shedding tears, then these intruders must indeed possess great power."

"It's true, I'm prepared to negotiate with them. But if they step out of line, I won't hesitate to confront them."

Finally, the villagers collectively decided to attempt negotiation with the intruders. The village chief smiled as

"Just convey to the others that they mustn't engage in hostilities, or else-"

Suddenly, with a violent and thunderous disruption, the roof of the chief's dwelling was torn apart, and a man descended like a meteor, crashing violently into the midst of the gathered villagers. The shockwave's force proved overwhelming, and those near the epicenter of the crash were flung through wooden walls like mere ragdolls, their bodies rolling and bouncing before coming to rest some distance away. In a matter of seconds, the tribal chief's once-stalwart house lay in ruins.

Even the elderly chief himself was propelled a significant distance away, tumbling along the ground.

In an instant, the chief's cherished home had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

Staggering to their feet, the other villagers gaped at the scene of devastation. Their eyes settled on a young man, his fiery red hair a stark contrast to the sinister grin that twisted his features. Splattered with the blood of those he had just crushed, the man stood amidst a gruesome display of the innocent death of the villagers. There was a crater around the house and just mutilated bodies pieces of guts and organs remained.

The perpetrator was none other than Belarus, who had crashed into the tribe chief's dwelling, leaving death in his wake.

Leaning down, Belarus licked the blood from his fingers, his voice dripping with dark amusement,

"It appears I chose the biggest house to crash this little gathering of yours. Seems like you were having a bit of a celebration. Hahaha!"

The tribal chief leaned to look at Belarus.

His body was battered and his mind reeling from the savagery displayed by Belarus.

In response, the other villagers began to cluster together, their faces twisted in a mixture of anger and grief.

“You did this!”

“You bastard!”

“My father, you killed him!”

“You monster!”

Amidst the tumult, the villagers gathered their emotions in a tangled web of confusion and rage. While the situation was undeniably chaotic, Belarus seemed unfazed by the havoc he had wrought, displaying an attitude as if he had just crushed insects underfoot and not people.

With a voice that rumbled like thunder, Belarus taunted, “You're all just going to cower there? Is there no one with enough backbone to fight back?”

As his words resonated with a palpable undercurrent of bloodlust, the villagers instinctively recoiled, their courage faltering in the face of such overwhelming aggression.

In the midst of this turmoil, Belarus's companions perched themselves atop a tree, their agitation evident as they anticipated Belarus's impending eruption.

Watching the chaos unfold with a vexed expression, Silas grumbled,

"I explicitly advised him to wait, but of course, he had to indulge in a killing spree."

Kraven chimed in with a sigh, "Inviting Belarus was a rather ill-fated decision, it seems."

Silas's frustration was palpable as he contemplated the situation,

"Indeed, we could have managed without him, but given the loosening of the seal, he is needed to fix that."

Turning his attention to the girl among them, Silas directed,

"Alquira, it's your turn now. Subdue the villagers before Belarus takes matters into his own hands."

With a determined step forward, the gloomy girl Alquira assumed a stance, crossing her arms in front of her,

"Elvida, Chains of Despair," she intoned.

In response, a series of intricate magic circles materialized in the air beside her. From these magic circles emerged thick, dark chains resembling serpents, which swiftly descended towards the ground before disappearing into the earth.

Despite the villagers' resistance, Belarus's relentless assault continued unabated.

He charged at the villagers like a rampaging beast, his powerful arm swipes launching villagers into the air before they crashed to the ground in a gruesome display.

A handful of villagers, armed with stone weapons, bravely attempted to confront Belarus. However, their feeble efforts barely left a scratch on him. In return, Belarus effortlessly crushed them with his bare hands, their bodies flung into the midst of their fellow villagers.

Belarus was drenched in blood and with his once-white attire now a gory mess. He viciously crushed a villager's skull, his words punctuated by the sickening sound of bone yielding to his brute force.

"Barely a warm-up," Belarus muttered with a bored expression, clearly unimpressed by the villager's efforts.

Unbeknownst to Belarus, a group of elite tribal warriors stealthily closed in on him through the crowd.

These five skilled fighters swiftly maneuvered through the chaos, their intent focused on subduing the rampaging invader.

As one warrior cried out, "Web Shot!", viscous white strands suddenly wrapped around Belarus's limbs, entrapping him and restricting his movements.

Belarus was surprised,

“What the-”

Before he could react another warrior bellowed, "Wasp Mayhem!", prompting a horde of wild wasps to descend from the treetops, launching a frenzied assault on Belarus.

In rapid succession, the warriors unleashed their techniques.

"Jaguar Slash!" manifested as long, claw-shaped energy waves crashing down upon Belarus.

A massive piece of rock hurtled through the air with the command, "Stone Overhaul!", crashing down upon Belarus.

The cacophony of battle reached its peak as one warrior unleashed "Flame Shot".

The fiery projectile streaked toward Belarus, culminating in a tremendous explosion.

A dense cloud of smoke, dirt, and dust billowed across the battleground, nearly toppling the villagers to the ground. This exemplary teamwork showcased the Blessed Children's synergy, a strategy they often employed to bring down colossal monsters within the forest.

Even the most formidable of mana beasts would suffer severe wounds from such a relentless assault.

The villagers watched in relief as a sense of hope surged through them.

"The Blessed Children are here!"

"We're saved!"

"That bastard is finished!"

Emerging from the shadows, the five tribal warriors positioned themselves in front of Belarus.

Just a glance at them revealed their exceptional prowess. These five individuals were mages, revered by the Ookamantukh people as the 'Blessed Children'.

"Is he finally dead?" inquired one of the warriors. The one who spoke was a female fighter, short in stature, dressed in wooden armor, with eight spider-like limbs extending from her back. A transmutant mage, she possessed the powers of a spider. Despite her childlike appearance, she was in her 30s.

"Maybe I should just hurl a couple of rocks and turn him into a makeshift grave," pondered a massive and muscular warrior. He specialized in earth magic, controlling the very ground beneath him.

"Burial is too kind for him. I propose we let my bugs feast on his remains," spoke a slender and tall warrior.

A psychic mage, he manipulated insects to do his bidding in combat.

"We had barely left the village to check on the icy fence, and that man had already slaughtered so many of our people," expressed an agitated warrior with jaguar-like claws.

Another transmutant mage, his abilities were tied to the beast within.

The most powerful among them, the warrior who was a flame elemental mage, stepped confidently to the forefront,

"Charging in alone was his fatal blunder. While I'm not fond of overwhelming an enemy with numbers, I'll make an exception this time. Now that he’s taken care of, the icy barrier should crumble."

A cloud of smoke and dust obscured the area where they attacked Belarus. The warriors waited for the debris to settle, anticipating the sight of their assailant's fallen body.

Suddenly, a rock the size of a fist hurtled from the dust cloud with incredible speed. It struck the spider transmutant warrior squarely in the head before anyone could even react.

A grotesque hole marred the girl's face, and she crumpled to the ground, life extinguished in an instant.

Her fellow warriors cried out in shock and disbelief, surrounding her lifeless form with a mixture of grief and anger, “Kirara!”

"That sticky white substance is repugnant," boomed Belarus's voice.

Emerging from the wide crater created by the impact, he appeared almost unscathed.

Belarus's malicious grin widened as he taunted, "So there were five of you mages, huh?... Oh, my mistake, it's just down to four now."