I woke up sprawled on my cot in the Black Stone Tavern's back room, the faint ache from yesterday's minefield scuffle nagging my limbs. That damn N'Nazmuz's curse—30 kilograms of invisible weight pressing me down—made rolling out of bed feel like wrestling a Gromble. But my muscles, forged by years of fighting that pressure, pushed through, and a quick stretch brought a smirk. "Supreme Elf, ready to conquer," I muttered, ignoring the split-leaf amulet's faint pulse against my chest. Another day, another chance to paint Opeka with chaos.
Goran was at the bar, polishing mugs with that Peak Element Lord Fire glare that could melt Zenoite. "Back to the minefield, boy," he rumbled, tossing me a waterskin. "Mara wants it cleared proper. No slacking, or she'll bury you." His eyes flicked to my amulet, which pulsed again, but he said nothing. Vuk's drunken tales of "wave-carved slabs" and Azurion's ruins echoed in my mind, but I shoved them aside. Ruins? Boring. Janko's face coated in neon feathers? Art.
I grabbed my two Zenoite swords—Marko's gift, their weight a perfect counter to the curse's drag—and swaggered out, the tavern's buzz of Bera's curves and Lila's hips fueling my grin. Bera wasn't up yet, probably dreaming of our past kiss, but Lila's Earth Qi tremors from last night's tantrum lingered. "Wrestle for it, huh?" I chuckled, plotting a Glow-Burst Bomb for her next.
The Zenoite minefield loomed beyond Opeka's sparse forests, a rocky scar with Qi so thin it made my qi-blindness feel like a cruel joke. No Awakening Altars, no Spirit Stones—just me, my blades, and a grudge against Rotting Blind Mice. The curse slowed my steps, stamina burning faster than a Firepetal spark, but I pushed deeper, the air growing colder, heavier. "Come out, you Gromble rejects," I taunted, twirling a blade.
A rumble shook the ground, not a mouse's scuttle but something massive. A Zenoite Krovar emerged, its rocky hide glinting like the mine's veins, towering twice my height. Its eyes glowed, and its claws could crush a boulder. Beginner Master, I guessed from its bulk, maybe higher—way stronger than me. My amulet pulsed, but I couldn't sense its element. Qi-blind, as always, I had to trust my eyes and gut.
"Big bastard, huh?" I muttered, gripping my swords. The Krovar charged, silent as death, its claws slashing. I dove aside, the curse dragging my limbs like I was wading through mud. Its claw grazed the cave wall, showering sparks. I slashed with Wind's Rebuke, the Zenoite blade scraping its hide—nothing. Not a scratch. "Tougher than Janko's ego," I grunted, dodging another swipe that clipped my shoulder, pain flaring. The curse burned my stamina, each move a battle against that 30-kilogram weight.
I circled, heart pounding, the Krovar's silence unnerving. Thunder's Edge came next, a heavy swing at its flank. The blade cracked against its hide, jarring my arm, but no damage. It swiped again, faster, and I wasn't quick enough. Claws raked my chest, tearing my tunic and drawing blood. I stumbled, gasping, the curse making every breath a chore. "Not my face, you rock-headed Gromble!"
I spat, blood dripping.Desperate, I scanned the cave. There—a massive arch of stone laced with Zenoite veins, jagged and unstable, looming above. A plan sparked. "Come on, ugly," I taunted, sprinting toward the arch, the curse slowing my legs to a slog. The Krovar roared, chasing, its bulk shaking the ground. I fumbled in my backpack, grabbing every vial of Moonflower sap I had—three in total—and hurled them at the beast. The sticky sap splashed across its hide, gumming its limbs. Not enough. I yanked out a fishing net, stashed for who-knows-what, and tossed it over the Krovar. The net tangled with the sap, binding its legs and arms, immobilizing it under the arch. It thrashed, growling, trying to tear free, but the sap-net combo held tight.
"Got you, rock-head!" I panted, stamina fading. With my last strength, I swung Thunder's Edge at the arch's keystone. The Zenoite blade rang, cracks spiderwebbing through the stone. "Timber!" I yelled, diving clear as the arch collapsed, tons of rock and Zenoite crashing down, pinning half the Krovar's body—legs and lower torso trapped under rubble. It roared, helpless, dust choking the air.
I staggered to my feet, chest bleeding, the curse's faint healing tick barely keeping me upright. I pulled a vial of Gromble oil from my pouch and doused the Krovar's exposed hide, the slick liquid pooling. I struck my flint, sparks dancing. "Time to roast, ugly," I sneered, holding the flint close.
The Krovar's eyes widened in terror, its silence breaking. "Stop! I surrender, you slimy humanoid!" it bellowed, trembling under the rubble.
"Slimy?" I laughed, flicking another spark. "You're the one looking like a Gromble's ass!" The Krovar growled, "You filthy fleshling, I'll crush you!" but its fear was palpable, oil glistening.
"Crush me? You're shaking like Janko after a Feather-Tickler Trap," I shot back, striking the flint again, sparks dancing near the oil. The Krovar flinched, roaring, "Curse you, you vile prankster!"
"Vile? I'm the Supreme Elf, you pebble-brained oaf!" I grinned, waving the flint. "One spark, and you're a bonfire." The Krovar's eyes darted, panicked. "Enough! I'll do anything if you spare me," it pleaded. "I just gained sentience; I don't want to lose it."
I paused, flint still sparking, savoring the moment. "Anything, huh? Pathetic for a rock monster." I flicked another spark, making it flinch. "Swear you'll never attack Opeka's folk. Live in the village, protect it. Or I light you up."
"I swear!" the Krovar groaned, its voice cracking. "I'll guard Opeka, you wretched humanoid!"
"Wretched? That's rich from a walking quarry," I snorted, pocketing the flint but keeping a sword raised. "You need a name, rock-head. Rocky—fits your sorry hide." I smirked, sheathing my blades. "Now stay put, Rocky. No funny business, or I'll roast you for real."
I cleared enough rubble for Rocky to crawl free, his lower body bruised but functional. He lumbered behind me as we exited the mine. My amulet pulsed as we passed a Zenoite slab carved with waves—Azurion's mark, Vuk's "ancient ruins" nonsense. "What's your deal, huh?" I muttered, kicking the slab. No glow, just stone. Destiny could wait. Lila's reaction to a good scare couldn't.
Outside the mine, I spotted Lila training in the forest nearby, her Earth Qi hurling boulders like they insulted her. Her tunic clung to those hips, and a wicked grin spread across my face. "Hey, Rocky," I whispered, nudging the beast. "Want to be a real Opeka hero? Sneak up and give that earth queen a fright." Rocky's eyes gleamed, and he lumbered toward Lila, letting out a low, gravelly roar.
Lila spun, eyes wide, then narrowed. "You idiot, Killyaen!" she shouted, spotting me cackling behind Rocky. She charged, Earth Qi surging, and tackled me to the ground. We wrestled, her strength pinning me as she summoned earthen tendrils to trap my arms and legs, binding me to the dirt. Her weight pressed against me, and—oh, damn—my "magnificent sword" stirred between my legs, impossible to hide. Lila froze, her face flushing as she felt it, then leapt off like I was a live Firepetal.
"Supreme Pervert!" she screeched, fists clenched. "You're disgusting!"
"Disgusting? You felt the Supreme Elf's glory and loved it!" I taunted, still pinned by her Earth Qi, grinning through the pain. Lila's face turned crimson, and she stomped over, raining punches on my chest. "Take that, you lecherous Gromble!" she yelled, each hit rattling my bones.
Rocky watched, his rocky maw twisting into what might've been a grin. "This female is exceptional," he rumbled, clapping his massive claws. "I like her spirit."
"See? Even Rocky's a fan!" I laughed, wincing as Lila landed another punch. She finally released the earthen binds, storming off with a huff. I staggered up, brushing dirt off, my chest bruised but my smirk intact. "Worth it," I muttered.
Back in Opeka, villagers froze at the sight of Rocky's towering form. Whispers turned to gasps, and a few grabbed pitchforks. "Relax, you lot!" I called, hands raised. "This is Rocky, Opeka's new guard dog. Swore to protect us, didn't you, big guy?" Rocky nodded, his gravelly voice affirming, "I serve Opeka." The villagers hesitated, but my grin—and Elder Mara's approving nod—eased their fears. Kids soon swarmed Rocky, chasing his lumbering steps and shouting, "Supreme Beast! Supreme Beast!" Rocky's eyes softened, a rare sight for a Krovar.
I swaggered into the tavern, Rocky ducking behind me—too late. His massive frame splintered the doorframe's top, chunks of wood clattering to the floor. Goran glared, mug mid-polish. "We'll need bigger doors from now on," he grunted, shaking his head. I laughed, my face a mess of bruises from Lila's forest beatdown, which Bera spotted instantly. She leaned over the bar, her apron barely containing that fire-queen chest, and smirked. "Ouch, mouse-chaser. Did the wild earth beast maul you?" she teased, her eyes dancing.
Before I could retort, I caught Lila's glare from a corner table. If looks could slice, I'd be halved—magnificent sword and all. Bera, noticing Lila's fury, sauntered closer, her hips swaying. "Let me kiss those wounds better, hero," she purred, planting a slow, deliberate peck on my cheek. "Gotta heal what that savage earth beast did to you." The tavern hushed, eyes darting between us.
Lila's face twitched, feigning indifference, but her clenched fists betrayed her. She stood, stormed over, and—surprising everyone—leaned in, kissing my other cheek with a venomous smirk. "I went too hard in the forest, didn't I?" she whispered, her voice dripping with perverse edge. "Sitting on that sword of yours." My grin widened, heart racing.
The tavern erupted—whistles, hoots, and shouts of "Elf babies!" and "Fiery triangle!" filled the air. Vuk slurred something about "love altars," while Marko choked on his ale. "Heroic enough for both of you, ladies?" I drawled, dodging Bera's rag-swipe. Lila huffed, turning away, but her flush screamed jealousy. Rocky lumbered to a corner, his bulk shaking the floor, watching the chaos with what might've been amusement.
I leaned against the bar, ale in hand, and launched into my tale with all the theatrical flair of a Supreme Elf. "Picture this," I boomed, gesturing wildly, "me, the Supreme Elf, facing a Krovar twice my size, claws like boulders! I danced around him, swords flashing, then—bam!—trapped him with sap and a net, brought down an arch to crush him!" I paused for effect, grinning. "And there he was, begging, oil dripping, ready to roast!"
Rocky growled from his corner, his gravelly voice cutting through the cheers. "Don't exaggerate, fleshling, or we'll repeat that mine fight—without your precious pranks!" His eyes glowed, half-serious, half-annoyed.
I spun toward him, unfazed, and raised my mug. "Oh, Rocky, scared I'll make you sound too pathetic? Don't worry, I'll tell 'em how you cried for mercy!" The tavern roared with laughter, mugs clanging. Rocky huffed, settling back, but I swear his rocky maw twitched. "See? Even my guard dog loves the spotlight!" I added, winking, sending the crowd into another fit of chuckles. Vuk muttered about "wave-carved relics," and my amulet pulsed, but I drowned it with another swig. Janko's humiliation—and the fire between Bera and Lila—came first.