The moment I laid eyes on the dragonian, I knew.

  Defeating him was impossible. The gap between us was far too vast. And with Dragon’s Roar, the dragonian race’s near-invincible secret weapon, there was no hope of victory.

  But I wasn’t here to win.

  I had only one objective: buy time. Hold him here long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

  After a brief assessment, I found three reasons that gave me the resolve to stand my ground.

  First, I sensed no hostility from him. He wasn’t eager to fight. If anything, he looked as though he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. There was no malice in his eyes, only urgency.

  Second, he wasn’t in perfect condition. A cursed mark was etched into his right arm, dark veins pulsing faintly beneath his scales. Even at a glance, I could tell it was draining him relentlessly.

  And lastly, the most important reason of all, I knew exactly what he was after.

  That knowledge was my only weapon.

  I moved immediately.

  The first step was to summon reinforcements. I launched a deliberate barrage of attacks in his direction, pouring Mana into wide, unfocused strikes. I knew none of them would ever land, not against a dragonian warrior.

  But he wasn’t my true target.

  Behind him, atop Aeloria’s Keep, stood the Sacred Bell.

  My spells tore through the air and struck its vast surface. A heartbeat later, the bell rang out, deep and resonant.

  An emergency signal.

  The elder druids would hear it. And when they did, they would come.

  The second step was stalling.

  Thanks to my knowledge of the game, I knew why this dragonian was here. He had stolen druid artifacts, materials capable of curing the Dragon’s Curse gnawing away at his right arm. I recognized the pattern instantly.

  Jahad.

  One of the most infamous noble families among the dragonians.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  The suffocating pressure of his Dragon’s Fear aura crashed down on me like a crushing tide. My lungs seized. My vision narrowed. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, to bow, to submit.

  But I didn’t fall.

  It took everything I had, but I forced my body to remain upright. I even took a step forward, masking the tremor in my legs and willing my expression to remain calm.

  The dragonian’s eyes narrowed.

  That was my opening.

  I surged forward.

  Windstride activated, and the world blurred. The sudden acceleration ripped the breath from my lungs as I closed the distance in an instant. At the same time, I raised my defenses, activating Tempest Shield.

  A translucent barrier snapped into place, humming violently as spiraling winds wrapped around me.

  A dragonian warrior wielding a spear relied primarily on overwhelming physical force. And Tempest Shield, my newly acquired spell, could deflect physical damage for a brief window.

  There were a few exceptions, of course, but I had no choice but to assume the best.

  When the moment arrived, energy exploded through my muscles as I activated Inner Beast.

  Power flooded my body, raw and feral. My strength tripled, but only for a single strike.

  That was all I needed.

  I twisted mid-step and lunged for his weakened right side, where the curse pulsed beneath his scales. My strike landed cleanly, forcing him to stagger back.

  At that exact moment, reinforcements arrived, spells flying across the battlefield.

  But before I could retreat, the dragonian moved.

  Dragon’s Roar.

  The world shattered into sound and force. The air itself seemed to rupture as I was hurled backward like a broken doll, my body smashing into stone and skidding across the ground.

  Everything went white.

  A high-pitched whistle, like a boiling kettle, was the only thing I could hear. I tried to gasp, but my mouth filled with the metallic tang of blood and the dry, bitter taste of pulverized stone. I was on my hands and knees, but I couldn't feel them, as if I were floating in a sea of static.

  My vision pulsed with every throb of my heart. Through the haze, I saw the blurred shapes of the elder druids, streaks of emerald and brown, descending like falling leaves.

  “Leafshade! Are you alright?”

  The voice was muffled, as if they were shouting from the bottom of a deep well. I couldn't answer. My fingers felt cold, yet they were clamped tight around a hard, pulsing warmth.

  With immense effort, I tilted my hand. Resting in my shaky palm was the Verdant Heart, its glow the only steady thing in a collapsing world.

  Relief flickered across their faces, but it vanished when they saw my expression.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “…I-I’m sorry,” I whispered. My voice was hoarse, weighed down by guilt. “I couldn’t retrieve the Moonlit Branch.”

  The high-pitched ringing finally won, drowning out their replies. Exhaustion claimed what little strength I had left, and darkness closed in once more.

  ***

  When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying in a bed.

  The first thing I noticed was the faint tremble in my hands, a lingering aftereffect of Dragon’s Roar. Even now, my muscles refused to fully obey me.

  “What a cheat character…” I muttered under my breath.

  “Heeey! He’s awake!”

  The excited shout was followed by an unmistakable squeal. Riven was practically bouncing on his heels, his relief overflowing as he rushed closer. As I slowly took in my surroundings, I realized I wasn’t alone. Several druids gathered around the bed. Elowen, Kaelen, and a few others whose names escaped me in my haze.

  Sable and Orin stood together near the foot of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Their eyes were red and swollen, the traces of tears still fresh. They had clearly feared the worst.

  In one corner of the room, Vallen Raenhir stood with her usual rigid posture, her expression tight and unreadable.

  Then the Archdruid stepped forward.

  His presence alone seemed to steady the room. A gentle smile softened his weathered features as he looked down at me.

  “I’m relieved to see you awake, Leafshade. The trembling should subside within a few hours.”

  He paused, his gaze thoughtful.

  “What you’ve done is truly remarkable. Thanks to you, we’ve reclaimed the Verdant Heart.”

  His words dragged fragments of memory to the surface. The clash of power, the crushing presence of the dragonian, the moment my body finally gave out.

  “But… the Moonlit Branch?” I asked quietly, my voice tight with concern.

  The Archdruid nodded, untroubled.

  “Do not worry. We will recreate it during the next sacred ritual.”

  I knew exactly what that entailed.

  The cost would not be small.

  Still, I said nothing.

  The Archdruid rested a hand gently on my shoulder before straightening.

  “For now, you must rest. Tomorrow, we will prepare something for you.”

  With that, he turned and left the healing chamber, his footsteps unhurried.

  I watched the Archdruid go, his silhouette framed by the doorway.

  Something special.

  The phrase felt heavy, laden with expectations I wasn't sure I could meet. Unease and curiosity warred in my chest, but the battle was short-lived. Exhaustion finally dragged me under, and I sank back into the pillows.

  The moment the Archdruid was gone, the young druids erupted.

  "Did you really defeat a dragonian?"

  “How did you even survive that?”

  “Is it true you resisted Dragon’s Fear?”

  Their voices overlapped in a flood of excitement.

  “That’s enough.” Vallen’s sharp command cut through the noise. “Let him rest.”

  At once, the room quieted. One by one, the druids filed out, casting lingering looks in my direction.

  Just as Vallen turned to follow them, I called out weakly.

  “Instructor… what exactly is the Archdruid preparing for me?”

  She stopped and looked back, a rare smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said. “But trust me… it won’t be a simple gift.”

  With a nod, she slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with the lingering tremor in my hands, and the uneasy certainty that whatever awaited me next would change everything.

  ***

  Sleep never came easily.

  Despite the Archdruid’s words, my body refused to fully relax. The tremor in my hands dulled but never fully vanished, lingering like a reminder etched into my nerves. Every time I tried to sneak out of the room, the ward scolded me without mercy. Like a watchful hawk, it never stopped monitoring me.

  After I finally gave up and lay there staring at the ceiling, soft footsteps approached the door. I sensed him before I saw him. The air tinged with unfamiliar herbs and the bite of old smoke.

  The door creaked open.

  An elderly druid shuffled inside, hunched beneath layers of mismatched robes stitched with charms and a gnarled staff clacking softly as he moved. Intricate antlers tangled with creeping vines crowned his head, and his piercing blue eyes were partially obscured by a crystal lens I’d never seen before.

  The Shaman.

  “So,” he croaked, peering at me like a curious crow. “You’re the fool who headbutted a dragonian.”

  “I didn’t headbutt him,” I said weakly.

  “Mm.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Details.”

  He set down an emerald satchel and immediately began rummaging through it, muttering to himself. Bottles clinked. Powders puffed into the air. Something hissed softly before being shoved back inside.

  “I told them you’d wake up twitchy,” he went on. “Dragon’s Roar rattles more than bones. Shakes the soul loose if you’re not careful.”

  At last, he produced a small vial filled with a thick, iridescent liquid that shifted colors when tilted.

  “Drink.”

  I eyed it warily. “What is it?”

  He grinned, revealing uneven teeth. “Medicine.”

  “That doesn’t answer—”

  “It’ll either help,” he interrupted cheerfully, “or you won’t care anymore.”

  …Fantastic.

  I accepted the vial and swallowed. The liquid burned its way down my throat, then bloomed into an intense, cooling numbness that spread through my limbs.

  I gasped.

  “Oh, that’s good,” Elder Val'darion said approvingly. “Means you’re still alive inside.”

  The tremor in my hands finally stilled.

  Not vanished, but muted. Contained.

  “Good enough.” He watched me for a moment longer, then nodded. “Stay here. And don’t do anything reckless.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” My eyes flicked toward the shadow of the ward beyond the slightly ajar door.

  “Until tomorrow, little bird.” He packed up just as abruptly as he’d arrived and shuffled toward the exit.

  “Oh,” he added, pausing. “If you start hearing voices, don’t answer them.”

  “…Why?”

  He cackled and slipped out before I could ask more.

  Night crept in slowly after that.

  Moonlight spilled through the high windows, bathing the chamber in silver. I was just beginning to drift when a familiar, deliberate presence brushed against my senses. Calm, mysterious, and endlessly unenthusiastic.

  Myr, the Circle Keeper, stepped inside.

  Unlike the Shaman, her gray-green robes were immaculate, layered in concentric patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from the corner of my eye. She carried a stack of books bound in worn leather and bark-fiber covers.

  “You’re awake,” she said flatly.

  “Apparently I’m not allowed not to be,” I replied.

  She approached and set the books down beside my bed. The air around them felt… dense. Old. Heavy with knowledge.

  “These are for you,” Myr said. “Restricted texts. Nothing dangerous. Mostly.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Mostly?”

  She studied me for a long moment, gaze sharp but not unkind.

  “You resisted Dragon’s Fear without preparation,” she continued. “You acted with intent, not instinct. That is not something one learns accidentally.”

  I said nothing.

  Myr inclined her head slightly. “Read when you are able. Rest when you must. And do not attempt to force your Mana.”

  “I wasn’t planning to.”

  “Good.” She turned to leave, then paused. “The Circle is… watching with interest, Leafshade.”

  The door closed softly behind her.

  Alone once more, I stared at the books, a quiet excitement stirring in my chest.

  One title immediately caught my attention.

  Lithokult: Faith of the Unmoving God.

  It seemed I would not be sleeping tonight after all.

  MILESTONES

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