After days of walking through the grasslands, Mixarnt stumbled upon the tree where Lyra’s body was crucified. The sight nearly made him sick, but he quickly cut the tree, dug the ground, and carefully cleaned Lyra’s body. He even channeled his mana into her to slow the decay. Wrapping her in a clean blanket, he gently laid her to rest in the grave he had prepared. After burying her, he looked up at the sky and whispered, "May your soul find peace."

As Mixarnt completed the solemn task, the setting sun cast a sorrowful light over the grave, highlighting the care he had shown for Lyra’s remains. The blanket, infused with his mana, glowed softly—a symbol of respect and compassion amid the tragedy.

With a heavy heart, Mixarnt closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens. "May your soul find peace, your body return to earth and be one with nature." he whispered, his words carried away by the gentle breeze rustling through the grass.

As the last light of day faded, Mixarnt stood by the grave, lost in thought, keeping watch over Lyra’s final resting place..

Mixarnt didn’t know who the woman was, but he could tell from her appearance that she had suffered greatly. He remembered Fantasia’s words about the world being cruel and how different things were outside the safety of the World Tree Village where he grew up. "Suffering is a part of life, Mixarnt," she had told him, her emerald eyes filled with the knowledge of centuries. "The world can be cruel, and only the strong survive. Never forget that, no matter how kind or loving people may seem." Now, under the quiet night sky, Mixarnt stood by Lyra’s grave, a stark reminder of life’s fragility and the hidden cruelty that could exist even in the most peaceful places.

"You just have to learn to ride life's waves, huh?" he murmured, lying beside the crackling bonfire, gazing up at the starry sky.

A few days had passed since Kaelzar's battle with the adventurers, which left his base in ruins along with his men. Now, he roamed the land, leaving terror in his wake. In one village, the streets were littered with corpses, the air thick with the stench of burning homes. Kaelzar stood before a trembling mother and child, their terrified eyes locked on him as they clung to each other. "Come on, don’t look at me like that," he said casually, twirling his dagger. "All I wanted was some money and a place to rest. But your village elder refused me… and, well, this is what happens." Around them, the remains of the townspeople lay in brutal stillness, victims of Kaelzar's madness.

The mother’s tear-streaked face twists in horror as she takes in the devastation around her. The charred bodies of her loved ones lie motionless, a haunting testament to the massacre that has destroyed her once-peaceful village. Her child, sensing her fear, clings to her desperately, too terrified to utter a word. Kaelzar’s indifferent tone only deepens her despair. His flippant justification for the bloodshed feels like mockery, as if the lives lost were nothing more than obstacles in his path. The wind howls through the ruined streets, carrying the acrid stench of smoke and death. The once-thriving village is now a lifeless graveyard, a chilling reminder of Kaelzar’s merciless wrath.

He smirks, his cold eyes fixed on the trembling mother and child. "So, should I kill you both too?" he asks, his tone devoid of sympathy. The mother clutches her child tighter, her body shaking uncontrollably. She opens her mouth to plead, but fear strangles her voice. The child, sensing the terror, wails loudly, its tiny body trembling against her. Kaelzar watches with eerie detachment, amused by their despair. His fingers lazily drift to the hilt of his dagger, the weight of death lingering in the air as he toys with their fate.

"Haha! Your reactions are great!" Kaelzar said with a cold smile, his sharp eyes gleaming with twisted joy. He drew his two daggers and charged at the parent and child, only for his attack to be blocked by an 11-year-old boy wielding a wooden sword.

Kaelzar’s brow twitched in irritation as he poured more strength into his swing, sending the boy flying six meters away. "Holy moly! That was dangerous!" the boy said, still grinning playfully despite the impact. As the boy landed on the ground, his wooden sword slipping from his hand, Kaelzar stared in disbelief. He had expected the mother to cower or the child to plead for mercy, but instead, this scrawny kid had stood in his way with nothing but a makeshift weapon.

Kaelzar stepped closer, daggers ready, intending to finish the boy for his boldness. But as he loomed over him, he couldn’t ignore the boy’s unshaken grin and the defiant spark in his eyes, which seemed to mock Kaelzar’s threats.

"What kind of idiot are you?" Kaelzar growled, his voice full of scorn. "You think a toy sword can save you from me?"

"Haha, well, not really. But hey, I fought some bandits a week ago and killed them after using my real sword, lol," The boy said casually. Kaelzar quickly realized this was the boy who had taken down his men, and a furious, menacing smile spread across his face. Finally, he had found the kid.

"Boy, I am Kaelzar. What’s your name?" Kaelzar demanded.

The boy smirked and said, "Name's Mixarnt. I'm 11, I've already taken down your men once. How about we make this a habit?"