[Mother and Dear Mother]

It was massive, easily towering over any man, with a hulking, muscular frame that exuded raw power. As l stood there, frozen in fear and disbelief, I could hardly comprehend what I was witnessing. My heart pounded as my eyes locked onto its terrifying form. The monster I saw was definitely different from the previous Trial I had confronted.

The creature's fur shimmered with a mix of dark and silver tones, and it seemed to blend seamlessly into the surrounding environment, making it almost indistinguishable from the shadows.

The golden hues of the setting sun clashed with the creature's eerie presence, creating an unsettling juxtaposition between the beauty of the evening and the menace of the beast.

Gleaming like polished silver, the elongated canine tooth jutted out from the creature's upper jaw. It was the kind of tooth that could effortlessly rip through flesh and bone, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.

The beast turned its gaze at me. Its eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity, fixed on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and an icy chill ran down my spine. Its powerful muscles tensed as it shifted its weight, and l could sense its readiness to pounce.

In the blink of an eye, the beast had disappeared from my sight, leaving no trace of its presence. But before I could fully comprehend what had just happened, an immense figure emerged out of the shadows, hurtling toward me with astonishing speed, supported by its powerful four limbs.

A chilling realization swept through me, 'I might die here.' I thought as my baby limbs froze, rendering me helpless before the imposing door. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate. Suddenly, a force yanked me backward, and a deafening sound echoed around me.

When I dared to open my eyes, I found myself inside the house, now in the living room. A human figure knelt before me, shielding my small body. Blood seeped from the figure, evidence of receiving fierce wounds from the beast. But as I looked up at her, I saw a smile on her face, a facade hiding the pain she had endured from the vicious claws of the creature.

Despite coughing up blood, she quickly masked her injury with her hand. The twilight streamed into the house, revealing the aftermath of the destruction caused by the beast, as the back wall lay demolished.

"Stay here. Mom will be back," she reassured, her voice unwavering, clutching her sword tightly as she rose to her feet, seemingly unfazed by the pain.

Turning her back to me, she revealed a massive claw scratch across her back, blood dripping from the wound. The dust from the destruction of the wall veiled the presence of the beast, but it's glowing eyes remained visible through the haze. With bated breath, Viora steadied herself, preparing to face the beast again.

"You may think you're terrifying, but I am a mother, and since you dare threaten my child—" Viora fused her mana into her sword. "I'll be the most imposing creature you will ever face."

Viora surged forward, she closed the distance with the creature in a mere second. The clash of her sword meeting the razor-sharp claws of the werewolf echoed through the air. Through ny eyes, it appeared as if she was hardly matching the pace of the monster's claws, but in reality, it was the beast struggling to keep up with her relentless speed and precision.

With every swing of her sword, Viora displayed her mastery of the sword, each strike calculated and purposeful. She weaved seamlessly between the monster's lunges, her agility and reflexes akin to a dance with death.

Her attacks were a symphony of grace and power, as she exploited every opening, driving the creature back with each well-timed strike.

Viora's footwork gradually gets faster, she evades the beast's lunges while maintaining her balance. The air around her filled with the sound of her sword slicing through the air. Her movements were fluid and precise, as if she anticipated the monster's every move. The werewolf found itself pushed back.

As the battle prolonged, the werewolf's once fearsome appearance began to bear the marks of Viora's relentless assault. Deep gashes marred it's dark fur, crimson trails of blood tracing the path of Viora's strikes. However, her strikes become more ruthless.

The creature's golden eyes, once filled with ferocity, now flickered with a mix of pain and frustration. The wolf's snarls grew louder, and its attacks became more desperate, but it seemed no match for Viora.

In the midst of the turmoil, I couldn't help but be awestruck by my mother's swordsmanship. As the battle reached its climax, Viora's strikes intensified, and the werewolf's resistance weakened. Watching her fight, somehow I was also eager to hold a sword and cut that fur beast into pieces.

Viora delivered a decisive blow, sending the werewolf crashing to the ground with a thunderous thud. Viora's sword found its mark, and the beast let out a guttural howl.

'She did it!'

As her senses returned to her, the adrenaline that had surged through her veins began to subside. She looked around, taking in the aftermath of the intense battle. The ground bore witness to the marks left by her blade, evidence of the fierce combat that had taken place. Her breathing was labored as she spoke with a hint of disappointment, "My skills have become rusty."

Without hesitation, she hurried inside the partially broken house to reach me. "Raul, thank God nothing happened to you," she breathed with relief as she picked him up, embracing him in a loving hug. "Are you hurt anywhere? I'm sorry if Mom accidentally pulled you too hard."

At that moment, she recalled the puzzling mystery of how I managed to get down from the tall crib by myself—a feat seemingly impossible for a baby. Confusion gnawed at her mind, but before she could dwell on it further, a familiar voice called out her name, filled with worry and concern.

Her attention snapped to the source of the voice, and there stood her husband, his face etched with anxiety. His eyes scanned the scene, taking in the damaged walls and the aftermath of the intense battle that had unfolded in their home.

"Viora, are you both okay?" Aelen asked, rushing to her side, his arms reaching out to hold them close. Viora nodded, a mixture of emotions washing over her. "We're fine, but the house... I'm sorry, I didn't expect..." she trailed off, guilt and sadness weighing on her heart.

Aelen gently placed a hand on her wife's shoulder, offering comfort and reassurance. "What's important is that you and Raul are safe." Viora smiled through her mixed emotions. The walls bore the scars of the conflict, and yet, her thoughts were not solely on the material losses. She was grateful that her family was safe, but her attachment to the place where they had built memories made the destruction all the more poignant.

"Your back is gravely injured!" Aelen exclaimed, his voice filled with concern as he bit his lips, blaming himself for what had happened to her. "This was nothing much. I'm fine." Without hesitation, he gently guided her to sit on a perfectly fine chair— "No, you're not." Aelen focused his energy, channeling his healing magic through his hands.

As he placed his hands on her, a soft, warm glow enveloped her body. The energy flowed through her, like a gentle stream of soothing light. Aelen concentrated on every injury, mending them one by one with careful precision.

Despite his lingering self-blame, he was grateful that both of them were safe. The weight of responsibility weighed heavily on his heart, but knowing that she was alright brought a sense of solace. As the healing magic completed its work, the soft glow faded, and Aelen's hands gently withdrew.

"Now, let's gather at The Adventure Guild first."

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Some buildings were reduced to rubble, and the streets were littered with debris and remnants of the fierce battle that had taken place. Smoke still wafted through the air, lingering as a reminder of the destruction that had unfolded. The townspeople, weary and fearful, sought refuge at The Adventure Guild.

The refuge tents were situated in the heart of the town square, surrounded by market stalls and buildings. The exterior of the guild tent showed signs of wear and tear, hastily assembled with whatever materials were available. Its canvas flapped gently in the breeze, carrying a mix of the scents of burning wood and fresh grass, a stark reminder of the duality between destruction and the resilient nature of life that continued to flourish despite the tragedy.

Blankets and makeshift beds were spread across the floor, offering weary bodies a place to rest. The flickering light of magicl lamps provided a dim glow, creating an ambiance that was both somber and comforting.The townspeople's faces displayed a mix of exhaustion and relief, grateful to have found a safe haven within the protective embrace of the guild's makeshift shelter.

Children clung to their parents, seeking reassurance in the face of uncertainty, while others gathered in small groups, consoling one another and sharing stories of the horrors they had witnessed during the invasion.

The guild members stepped into a new role as caretakers and protectors of their fellow townspeople. They distributed food and water, tended to wounds, and provided a sense of stability in these tumultuous times.

l was in Viora's warm embrace as we lay next to each other inside the refuge tent. The dim light from a nearby magic lamp cast a soft glow on her weary face. Viora's gentle touch comforted me, and I nestled closer to her. Suddenly, I was grateful that nothing happened to her.

Viora's exhaustion was evident on her face, but even in weariness, she exuded a serene beauty. Her once vibrant eyes, now heavy with fatigue, still held a glimmer of resilience and determination.

Strands of her raven-black hair, usually meticulously braided, were loosened, framing her face with a touch of untamed elegance.

As Viora's eyelids fluttered with the weight of sleep, a faint smile graced her lips. It was a tender expression, reflecting the love she felt for her son and the hope she carried in her heart for a brighter future.

Her brows relaxed, easing the lines of worry that had etched themselves onto her face during the harrowing events of the day. I admired the strength that radiated from my mother's tired features.

A sense of familiarity dwelled inside me.

'I would have died if not for her. I said quitely in my mind.

'What would happen to me if you died?' Garen sent his thoughts to me.

I never care to think about that. Maybe, you will die too.l nonchalantly replied.

In that fleeting moment, Viora's breathing slowed and she surrendered to sleep. "If only I had been aware of the attack earlier, I could have saved them—"

'She is probably thinking about our neighbours. Well, it's not entirely her fault.'

l moved cautiously, my eyes scanning the interior of the tent. The atmosphere was somber, and the air seemed heavy with the collective grief of those who had sought shelter within its confines.

Amidst the rows of makeshift beds and blankets, l noticed a person seated by themselves, their face buried in their hands. The lines of sorrow etched deeply on their face revealed the pain of losing someone dear.

Their shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and their body language conveyed a profound sense of loss.

My heart ached for their anguish. I can understood the depth of their pain, having experienced my own share of losses. Since there was nothing else to do, l allows myself to fall asleep and unconsciously cuddles closer to Viora.

Once I had fallen asleep, a reminiscent of past surged.

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