The Moonlight Swordsman

The surrounding forest was still dark when the sun began to rise. Three days had passed since the enormous roars had filled the air, and a glowing blade could be seen draining the life energy from the beasts.

Aizel jumped from monster to monster, mercilessly slicing and slashing as he drained their life force to boost his own strength, power, senses, and stamina, allowing him to continue his killing spree.

Despite having recovered half of his mental energy, Aizel remained cautious and sparing with it, not wanting to deplete it too rapidly.

His heart was pounding with exhaustion as he ran through the forest, his eyes scanning the surroundings for a safe place to hide.

He'd just finished fighting a swarm of monsters, and he knew more were on the way. His muscles burned from exhaustion, and he felt like he was about to collapse.

He finally noticed a little clearing between the trees and dashed towards it. He knelt behind a large boulder, gasping heavily to catch his breath. He knew he just had a few moments to recuperate before the next horde arrived.

"There is definitely a Grade III monster among them; he also might be commanding them," he thought as he rested.

*ROOAARRR…*

Aizel's heart fell as the roar resonated in the air, knowing he had to confront another horde. Fighting hordes of monsters and only having tiny moments of rest had become a recurring pattern for him.

He doubted he would have survived this long without the Dragonfang dagger.

He had stretched the bounds of his imagination in the night, pushing himself to the point of mental fatigue with the purpose of bursting monsters from within.

But it was too much for him, leaving him with crippling headaches. He recognized that his magical core couldn't withstand such a high level of monster for now. Perhaps he could only use this technique on ordinary humans who lacked a magical core for now.

The cycle of day and night continued indefinitely as the sun and moon took turns ruling the sky. Another day passed, marked by the ascension and descent of the two celestial bodies.

After five days of nonstop battling against the horde, Aizel's body was damaged and bruised. He couldn't believe they kept coming for him as if they were endlessly numbered. He felt trapped in the region, with no way out.

Every day, he fought with all his might, slaying each creature with his sword and dagger. But as time went on, he began to wonder if he'd ever see the end of it all.

Aizel's mind was entirely captivated with the battle against the horde, leaving little room for anything else. He was in a trance-like condition where only the Dire Bjorns and the combat were important.

His motions became more fluid and smoother as the days passed, and his thoughts were sharpened to a razor's edge by the never-ending conflict.

His creativity and magical talents developed, allowing him to conduct more complex spells and movements effortlessly.

It was like he had joined an endless training session; testing his limitations and mastering his talents with each passing second.

As the sixth day's dusk approached, Aizel noticed something odd: the customary roar of monsters did not appear. He looked around, bewildered, and wondered if he had finally gotten rid of them all.

Aizel moved into the woodland, his gaze scouring the ground. He saw the bodies of Dire Bjorns everywhere he went, their blood soaking the ground and filling the air with the stink of death.

After so many days of battle, Aizel had become accustomed to the horrific look and smell.

He traveled around the forest for half an hour and couldn't find a single monster. The air around him was thick with the stench of blood and bodies, but there was an unsettling silence. Perplexed, he strolled over to a nearby tree and sat down to collect his breath and rest.

Despite the fact that he hadn't seen any monsters, he couldn't shake the feeling that a Grade III monster was still lurking around somewhere.

*****

Vespara potion shop...

Vespara emerged from the potion-making room, taking a slow descent down the stairs to the ground floor. She walked up to the counter and sat down, exhaling a breath of relief.

She was sitting at the counter when she heard a buzzing sound and pulled a crystal ball from her ring. She infused it with mana, and it responded promptly to her instructions.

"Ohoo… My little Vespara. How are you?" The old man's voice rang from it.

"Oh master, it's you! I thought some pervert was disturbing me again,"

"Tsk! Hmm… By the way, your disciple arrived a few days ago."

"Where is he? Did you give him the artifact?" She quickly asked.

"Why in the hell would I give my creation so freely, despite the fact that you don't ever call me or come to this old man, and yet you expect me to be generous?"

"Then where is he?"

"Don't worry! I have given him a test. If he passes, I might as well give him something good."

"Damn it, old man! He will die. Where is he? What did you do?"

"Calm down. I have told him to clear some Dire Bjorn territory. That's it! nothing else,"

"He is only a Grade II mage idiot; how would he be able to clear it alone? Fuck you, old man.

"I swear, if something happens to him, I will come down to your little hideout and tear you to pieces."

As soon as the old man realized that Aizel was only a Grade II mage, sweat began to form on his forehead.

"This... how is it possible? He clearly gave me the feeling of a Grade III mage.

"Hmm, don't worry; I'll go and see him tomorrow. It's his last day. I am sure he has already cleared the forest, hahaha... The old man hastily severed the connection and let out a deep breath of relief.

"Interesting fellow, how did she find him? I have to make sure to keep him alive, or she will nag me for my whole life," he thought.