"My name is Lazelos," said a composed voice from the front—a man Ondira had spoken to the first time she arrived here. He stepped forward, arms behind his back, eyes scanning the group. "Deep in this valley, a rumor has spread. A dangerous spirit beast has been spotted… or rather, looming."
His gaze swept over the group of cultivators. "Most likely, this creature is of Epic class."
Kazel's brow twitched.( An Epic class spirit beast? ) he thought, eyes narrowing just a little.
"We are eight in total, including myself," Lazelos continued. His voice was calm, but with an undercurrent of weight. "Let's hope we return with the same number." With that, he turned and began leading the way into the depths of the valley, the others falling in behind him.
"You're not scared, are you?" Ondira asked softly beside Kazel.
"I've faced worse," Kazel replied with a smirk, hands lazily tucked behind his head.
"Kazel," a quiet voice called from the side.
He glanced over.
Saya stood nearby, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, ponytail swaying gently in the wind. "I didn't know you joined this expedition."
"Neither did I, apparently." Kazel gave a small shrug. "Got roped into it."
Her gaze drifted forward. "That's Master Nobu, ahead."
Kazel followed her eyes to the familiar back of the man in Scale Dalgona robes.
"You know how good he is," Saya said, tone faint but full of respect.
Kazel remembered the way Nobu had calmly partitioned the arena with precision, a master of both control and presence.
He gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Not bad."
"Oh right," Lazelos called out as he led the group through the narrowing valley trail. "Let's introduce ourselves—name and spirit beast. Or keep it a mystery if you're shy. Just don't expect us to come looking if you scream and disappear."
No one stopped walking, but the introductions began.
"Lazelos. Storm Lynx. Rare."
A gruff woman followed with a jagged axe on her back. "Mina. Twin-Fang Bear. Rare."
Then came the familiar smug voice. "Zao. Gale Serpent. Rare."
A quiet man with a long spear gave a nod. "Jiro. Phantom Weasel. Rare."
Saya's voice was low but clear. "Saya. Two-Tusk Boar. Common."
There was a noticeable pause before the next voice spoke with quiet confidence.
"Nobu. Crimson Bark Stag. Epic."
Several heads turned slightly at that, but no one questioned it.
Then came Ondira's turn. Her voice was calm, but carried weight.
"Selphine," she said. "Spirit beast? That's private."
"Hah, mysterious," Mina muttered. "We all know what that means."
Finally, all eyes turned to the last of the group.
"Kazel," he said with a relaxed shrug. "Mustang Black Rabbit. Common."
Zao raised a brow. "That's it?"
"That's all I need," Kazel said, his hands behind his head.
Saya glanced at him with the smallest tilt of her head, but said nothing.
Lazelos kept his pace, speaking over his shoulder. "So, that's eight Rare, one Epic... and two Common."
He gave a brief glance toward Kazel and Saya.
"No pressure."
Kazel grinned. "Good. I work better with low expectations."
As they stood at the end of the valley, the entrance to the cave loomed ahead—wide enough for five grown men to walk side by side. It was a gaping maw of darkness, still and silent… until suddenly, a powerful gust of wind surged out from within.
It wasn't just a breeze.
The moment the gust hit, the tension in the group tightened like a noose.
Saya's hand was already on the hilt of her sword, her dark eyes narrowed as she leaned forward slightly, lowering her center of gravity. Her ponytail whipped to the side, but she didn't flinch — only waited.
Nobu's stance adjusted, subtle but precise. His loose sleeves fluttered like flags in the wind, but his eyes were sharp, almost calculating, already studying the cave as if it were a chessboard. There was no fear in him, just readiness.
Zao cursed under his breath, shielding his eyes from the swirling grit. "That wind… it's not just wind," he muttered.
"No," said Lazelos, eyes fixed on the cave's black throat. "It's a presence."
The white-masked woman known as Selphine merely adjusted her collar, unbothered, though her pupils contracted ever so slightly. She stood tall, arms still folded — composed, but not dismissive.
A second gust came. This one colder.
It wasn't sharp, like the wind of winter — it was deep, the kind that crawled along the skin and whispered across the bones. It carried something beneath it… something primal. The scent of wet stone, old blood, and spirit beast musk.
Something ancient stirred.
And yet, one among them didn't tense, didn't blink, didn't reach for their weapon.
Kazel.
He stood with his hands behind his head, shoulders relaxed, and eyes half-lidded as though bored of the dramatic buildup. His blue eyes gleamed slightly under the flickering sun, reflecting the dark mouth of the cave like still water.
He chuckled.
"Looks like we got an invitation," he said, as if he'd just been welcomed into a banquet instead of a deathtrap. The corner of his mouth curled with a crooked grin.
Lazelos turned to him briefly, eyebrow raised. "You laugh easily, for someone new to this."
"I've seen worse," Kazel replied.
Ondira glanced sideways at him. Not a full turn. Just enough to catch his profile.
( What kind of boy stands this still under a beast's breath? )
The rest of the group exchanged looks — some annoyed, some curious. But none could deny it — the youngest-looking one among them seemed the least shaken.
And the cave before them, wide and black, rumbled just slightly — a subtle echo, like the growl of a slumbering creature. The wind stilled, as if the breath had been drawn back in.
A beat of silence passed.
Then Lazelos spoke again. "Stay close. And don't let your guard down. This isn't an ordinary cave… and whatever's inside knew we were coming."
One by one, the group began to move forward.
Kazel cracked his knuckles and strolled along behind them, still carrying that grin — the grin of a tyrant who'd walked through death and came out smiling.