"Wait, where are my manners? I'm Rywes, by the way. It's nice meeting you all."
She hopped down from the crate she'd been standing on, landing with a soft thud, then offered a quick handshake to a few people nearby.
"Now then, shall we begin? We've got five hours to kill this thing."
"Isn't that a lot of time?" said an orange-haired guy with thick freckles from the crowd.
"Not really," Rywes replied, climbing back onto the crate. "This isn't going to be simple. We're in a seven-star region, remember? Better safe than sorry."
Yor glanced around, frowning.
"I don't see any countdown timer. Where is it?" he asked Ludwig.
Ludwig just pointed at the fierce monster ahead.
"Try again and focus your eyes to that plant."
Yor squinted, focusing on the monster. As he stared, a glowing overlay flickered into view above it:
---
[Elite Monster Spawned
Azakkin, Mother of the Vinewraiths
Kill the boss to proceed.]
Countdown: 4 hours and 47 minutes.
---
"I see it now."
"Alright then—without further ado, let's begin." Rywes raised her voice, rallying the group's attention.
They kicked things off by sharing everything they knew about Azakkin. The intel came from unlucky players who happened to be at its landing point—and were quickly killed.
Rywes then sketched a rough formation in the dirt with her sword, mapping out their positions.
They thoroughly discussed the purpose and importance of each assigned position—something everyone agreed on without complaint.
Then came the what-ifs. Everyone contributed, asking questions and exploring worst-case scenarios.
And to top it all off, Rywes delivered a short speech to boost morale.
"Let's not waste any more time. Let's go!"
---
Later, they arrived at the boss area. Azakkin had already cleared most of the battlefield, leaving only fallen warriors and scattered weapons behind.
Azakkin crawled toward them using its vines like an octopus and let out a shriek.
Its name flickered above it, and its hit points appeared:
[Azakkin, Mother of the Vinewraiths]
[20,000 HP]
"Bro..."
"Holy crap, can we actually kill this thing?" someone in the raid party asked, scratching his head. His expression looked like he was about two seconds away from quitting.
Its body looked like a thick, twisted vine. Sharp thorns stuck out along its sides. Its head was like a combination of a Venus flytrap and a dragon.
Its bright blue eyes gleamed, locked in a cold, hungry stare. When it opened its mouth, rows of razor-sharp teeth glistened with glowing green sap, dripping in slow, sticky threads. The air reeked of rotting plants and dead animals.
Despite the fear, they stood their ground and did not falter.
"I hate how she assigned me as a tank. I only agreed because I didn't want her to hate me," Ludwig said, cracking his neck as he wielded a sword and shield.
Unfortunately, Rywes—who was standing beside Yor—overheard him.
"Let's just stay focused, alright?" she said, shooting Ludwig a cold, sideways glance.
Her icy expression pierced straight through Ludwig's heart.
"Woah, don't be so mean, my love—you're hurting my feelings. Besides, Yor's here, and he's smart as hell," Ludwig said, quickly moving behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"He'll handle that plant," he said, pointing at Yor.
"And I…"
"will take care of you."
Yor snorted,looked away and chuckled in amusement after hearing what was possibly the most ridiculously awful pickup line of his life.
"Get off me!" Rywes grumbled and immediately shrugged his arm off with an annoyed look.
---
The game allowed all players to cast basic healing and offensive spells for survival.
Weapons didn't grant skills; they simply enhanced your magic or helped channel it more effectively.
"Get to your positions—now!" Rywes commanded, nocking an arrow to her bow as she prepared for battle.
Her voice rang out over the field like a whip.
"Shieldmen to the front—protect our damage dealers!
Ranged attackers, hold the middle!
Supports, stay at the rear and stay sharp!"
"Remember, even if it looks real, all of this is just a game! Don't be afraid!" she added.
---
Azakkin swung its vines wildly, trying to break through the shieldmen encircling it.
The vines were heavy, forcing them to struggle to hold their ground, though some managed to slash through the thick tendrils.
Meanwhile, the mages launched fireballs at the creature's throbbing flower, attempting to burn it down, while the archers scanned for weak points—gaps where their arrows could pierce through.
Then, their rhythm broke.
Something unexpected happened.
Azakkin suddenly lifted into the air. The battlefield dimmed beneath its shadow as it hovered above, vines lashing and curling like serpents in a stormy sea.
With a loud, piercing shriek, Azakkin raised its thickest vines high—then brought them crashing down like a meteor.
"Yor, watch out!" Ludwig shouted, pulling Rywes out of the strike zone.
Yor just stood there, frozen, eyes fixed on something—a faintly glimmering thread that shimmered in the air while Azakkin hovered above.
The impact was devastating—seventy lives were lost in an instant, including Yor.
"Are you okay?" Ludwig asked, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried.
"Why did you save me? You could've saved your friend," Rywes panted, her hands resting on her knees.
"I could've saved you both— but he dodged me."
Ludwig bent down and picked up his shield, which had fallen to the ground when he rushed in to save them.
"Looks like he's onto something."