“Snap out of it!” I shouted, yanking Orin by the arm. She froze, eyes wide at the massive creature charging toward us through the mist.

  We must’ve been cursed to stumble upon something this rare.

  “What do we do?!” Orin screamed, her voice trembling as we bolted into the haze. The beast thundered after us, its antlers glinting under the light, ready to skewer anything in its path.

  “Just run!” I gasped between breaths.

  Easier said than done. My legs felt like lead, every muscle screaming in terror. Back on Earth, I could barely handle a morning jog, and now here I was, running from a stag on magical steroids.

  I risked a glance over my shoulder. Too late. The silver-coated creature was already upon us, hooves pounding like war drums.

  Instinct took over. I shoved Orin hard to the side and dove the other way. The world spun. My body hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud, Orin’s panicked scream echoing somewhere behind me.

  The Moonveil Stag’s antlers grazed my thigh, tearing through flesh. Pain erupted down my leg as blood spilled freely.

  The creature skidded to a halt, turned, and fixed its glowing red eyes on me: cold, furious, and unrelenting.

  I tried to stand, but my legs refused to cooperate. The stag lowered its head again, ready to charge.

  Great. I was going to die before reaching the Tower.

  And tragically, it wasn’t pessimism. It was just basic math. The odds of us surviving this were practically zero.

  “Hey, you! Come and get me!” Orin’s voice rang out, defiant. A burst of blue Mana flared from something in her hand.

  Wait… does she have a staff?

  A flicker of hope sparked in my chest.

  The blast caught the creature’s attention. It turned toward her, snorting and pawing at the ground. Its massive antlers gleamed like curved blades carved from moonlight.

  “Use your spell!” I shouted.

  “I don’t have any combat spells!” Orin cried, panic rising in her voice.

  “Then throw me that!”

  She hesitated for only a second before hurling it my way. The staff clattered to the ground just as the stag began another charge. Orin spun on her heel and bolted in the opposite direction.

  "Don’t run in a straight line!" I yelled, dragging myself toward the staff. "Zigzag!"

  Moonveil Stags were fast, but they couldn’t turn quickly. That was our only chance.

  Following my advice, Orin darted left and right, her movements frantic but unpredictable. The beast thundered after her, narrowly missing each turn. It looked like a deadly dance between predator and prey.

  My fingers brushed the staff’s handle. Somehow, I wasn’t shaking anymore.

  I closed my eyes for a split second and focused, calling up everything the Shaman had taught me.

  [Rejuvenation cast]

  A green aura bloomed around me, soft and warm. The pain melted away, replaced by a soothing coolness. Slowly, the wound began to close, not with a sudden burst of healing, but with the steady, nurturing flow of life.

  So that’s what it feels like...

  I pushed myself up, still aching but steady. “Hang on, Orin!” I shouted, scanning the scene for a plan.

  She was doing surprisingly well, dodging around pools and weaving between trees like a wild animal chased by fate itself. But her steps were faltering.

  My heart skipped when I saw it.

  She tripped.

  One foot snagged a root jutting from the earth, and she crashed to the ground, arms flailing.

  The stag was closing in fast, hooves pounding like thunder through the mist.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I cursed, firing a Mana bolt toward it, but it was useless. I was still too far away.

  Everything moved in a blur.

  The Moonveil Stag barreled forward, trampling straight through where Orin had fallen, then slammed headfirst into a tree with a crack that shook the ground. The trunk groaned under the impact, tilting sideways as branches and leaves rained down.

  I blinked.

  “…Holy shit,” I muttered.

  Orin stood up, completely unharmed. She looked just as surprised as I felt, staring wide-eyed at the stag, which now lay dazed against the tree.

  It was exactly like one of those stories where the main character survives purely because of plot armor.

  But we weren’t out of danger yet.

  The creature shook its head and fixed its glowing gaze back on Orin.

  Now fully healed after a few more casts of Rejuvenation, I sprinted toward her, waving my arm and shouting, “Over there!”

  She barely had time to catch her breath before the stag came charging after her again.

  And just like that, our little Tom-and-Jerry chase resumed.

  Orin darted toward where I pointed, twisting and turning at the last second to throw it off. Meanwhile, I gripped the staff tightly, waiting for the perfect moment.

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  A dark thought flickered in the back of my mind: I could just run. Leave her behind. No one would ever know.

  But I shook it off. Every person’s life in this world was worth just as much as any other life back on Earth. And even though I’d been a coward there, hiding in my room day after day, I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

  I believed I was here for a reason. A second chance.

  Clicking my tongue, I forced myself to focus, pushing away every useless thought. Then, finally, the moment I’d been waiting for came.

  The Moonveil Stag lunged, and Orin dove aside just in time.

  This is it.

  I raised the staff, not at Orin, but at the stag.

  [Windstride cast]

  The air shimmered and swirled around the creature. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath, then the wind erupted beneath its hooves.

  The stag jolted forward, momentum exploding beyond control. Its eyes widened in shock as it tried to slow down, but the spell had already taken hold.

  Too late.

  It crashed headlong into a pool. Water exploded upward in a gleaming arc, drenching everything nearby. The stag thrashed wildly, its great antlers dragging it down again.

  Silence settled over the forest, broken only by its furious snorts and the rippling water.

  I exhaled, lowering the staff. “Well… that’s one way to use Windstride.”

  Orin, panting hard, turned toward me with wide eyes. “You boosted the stag’s speed?”

  “Yeah,” I said, half-smirking. “Just… not in the direction it expected.”

  “That was genius,” she said between breaths. “We actually survived.”

  “Barely,” I said, handing her the staff as I dropped beside her. “By the way, where’d you get this thing?”

  “All of us got one from Instructor Vallen, along with this subspace pouch.” She slipped the staff into a light-brown pouch at her waist.

  “Turns out it just saved our lives,” I said with a grin.

  “So… what now?” Orin asked, glancing at the struggling stag in the pool.

  “It’s got monstrous stamina. We’ll need to wait a while before we can go back to hunting Emberflies,” I said, rubbing my thigh. Not a trace of the wound remained and my skin perfectly smooth.

  I’d be filthy rich if I could use this spell in the real world.

  "Still, we should keep our distance, just in case it climbs out," I added.

  “But… shouldn’t we help it?” Orin asked softly, pity in her eyes.

  “It tried to kill you a few minutes ago,” I reminded her flatly.

  “Still, we were the ones who entered its territory,” she argued.

  “And what if it attacks again? You volunteering to be the bait again?” I said, trying to inject some reason into her idealism.

  “Moonveil Stags are sacred. It's our duty as druids to protect them,” Orin shot back, pouting slightly.

  I exhaled sharply.

  She wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t right either. Helping the thing that nearly skewered us felt suicidal.

  “Then be my guest. I’m out of here,” I sighed, forcing my tone to sound colder than I felt. Risking my life twice in one day wasn’t on my schedule.

  “Please, Eryndor,” she said, grabbing my hand. Her wide blue eyes shimmered, pleading.

  I looked at her, really looked. She was shaking, whether from exhaustion, fear, or sheer stubbornness, I couldn’t tell. But in that moment, something in those eyes moved me.

  I exhaled through my nose. “Fine. You win. But you owe me,” I said, giving in.

  A bright smile bloomed across her face as she nodded eagerly.

  “Let’s find something to pull it out,” I muttered, half-heartedly.

  We searched around until we found a long vine dangling from a nearby tree. We cut it down and tied one end securely around the trunk of a sturdy oak.

  “Once it’s out, we run, got it?” I said, walking toward the stag with the vine slung over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that like ten times,” Orin muttered as she double-checked the knot. “Alright, this should hold,” she said, flashing me a thumbs-up.

  "I really hope this isn't a bad idea," I said before tossing the vine toward the struggling creature, then stepped back to keep some distance. To my surprise, the Moonveil Stag seemed to understand what we were doing. It bit down on the dangling end of the vine.

  “Help me pull!” Orin shouted, already tugging with all her strength.

  “On it,” I grunted, gripping the vine. It felt rough and sticky in my hands as we heaved together.

  The stag thrashed and kicked, splattering water everywhere, but little by little, it dragged itself out of the pool. Finally, it stood, drenched and panting, its silver coat gleaming under the moonlight.

  The instant its hooves touched solid ground, we bolted.

  Then a deep, echoing cry split the night.

  “Wait,” Orin gasped, stopping mid-run and pointing back.

  I slowed to a halt and turned. The Moonveil Stag stood at the water’s edge, its breath ragged, its crimson eyes glowing faintly through the mist. Then, it lowered its head, not in hostility, but in acknowledgment.

  “Is it… thanking us?” Orin whispered.

  “Looks like it,” I said with a smirk. “But unfortunately, I haven’t learned stag yet.”

  Orin rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

  The stag shook its massive antlers, sending droplets scattering like shards of light. Then, with a haunting, melodic cry, it turned and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

  I noticed a faint glimmer near where it had stood.

  “You said you owe me, right?” I asked, placing a hand on Orin’s shoulder.

  She blinked. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

  “I think the Moonveil Stag left something behind,” I said, keeping my tone as casual as I could. “So technically… that makes it mine, right?”

  Orin frowned, suspicious but hesitant. “I guess… if you say so?”

  Before she could reconsider, I was already jogging toward the shimmering light. My heart thumped faster with every step.

  As I drew closer, the glow grew clearer: silver and soft, like moonlight trapped in crystal.

  I clenched both fists and silently mouthed yes, yes, yes! over and over, shaking with giddy triumph.

  “Eryndor! What’s going on?” Orin called, watching me from a distance. “Why are you shaking like that?”

  If she knew how rare this was, she’d probably have reacted more strongly than me.

  Moonveil Antlers Shard.

  I picked it up carefully, feeling the faint hum of Mana pulsing through it, with a grin that refused to fade.

  “Hey, what did you just pick up?” Orin called out, jogging toward me. “Let me see!”

  “It’s just a small piece of its antler,” I said, reluctantly showing her the shard.

  Before I could pull it back, she snatched it from my hand. “I can feel… a strong magical energy,” she murmured, eyes wide with fascination as she turned it over in her palms.

  “So, are you planning to keep it?” she asked after a pause, her tone carrying a hint of regret.

  “We had a deal, remember?” I cut in before she could get any ideas.

  “I know, I know,” Orin said quickly, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” She handed the antler back, though her gaze lingered on it for a moment longer.

  “Good,” I said, pocketing it before she could change her mind. A brief silence followed, awkward but harmless.

  “Alright then,” I said, clapping my hands once to break the tension. “We still have unfinished business.”

  “Yeah,” Orin replied with a faint smile.

  “Let’s catch a few more Emberflies,” I added, nodding toward the distant glimmers of amber and gold drifting between the trees, “before something else decides to thank us.”

  never assume the deer is friendly.