Under the ghostly, eternal gray-green light of the Ancient Oak Forest Zone, a large-scale tragedy, staged with almost infinite patience, was unfolding.
Lying there was a Colossal Fungus Grazer, a mass of flesh and rough, matted fur, massive as a small hill. It gnawed slowly at a large luminescent mushroom, pale purple light from the mushroom cap reflecting off the thick moss-covered fur layer, creating lonely flickering light spots amid the saturated cold. Then the beast suddenly stopped chewing. Though its ears were covered by insulating fur, a strange cold sensation still spread across its skin. It was a subtle shift in the damp air, a disturbance too small to detect with ordinary eyes, but too obvious for ancient survival instinct.
No one in the convoy knew that in the distance, a slow hunt a slow hunt had begun—and they lay directly in its path.
Beneath roots thick as pillars, the hunting pack had taken positioned. Fourteen Canopy Lynx simultaneously deployed a multi-tiered formation, vanishing into darkness. Four lay flat at root level, pale green eyes narrowing, ready to isolate prey. On the tier above, six others threaded through massive oak branches, preparing to dive down to cut off all forward escape routes. The entire pack, with bodies covered in faintly luminescent spots, was nearly invisible amid the mushrooms' bioluminescence. The remaining four—the assassin group—moved like ghosts along purple mushroom clusters, seeking an opening toward the beast’s Achilles tendon.
The Fungus Grazer groaned softly, turning its heavy head, sensing encirclement but completely helpless in locating enemies amid this eerie light.
When the beast raised its front leg onto a root, creating a brief moment of imbalance, the death signal came: a short, hoarse screech, amplified by oak roots. Immediately, six luminescent spots on oak bark flickered synchronously. Six upper-tier Lynx instantly dove down to isolate and distract. In that chaotic moment, the four ground assassins had launched. They were living arrows, tearing through damp air at terrifying speed, aimed straight at the most vulnerable points. The primary danger was their unavoidable jaws, hurtling forward in the mushrooms' purple light.
During this same time, Ryel was conducting reconnaissance for the convoy. Under the Oak Forest's harsh conditions, his strategy shifted completely from speed to safety and information reliability. To counter three major challenges—spore mist disruption, darkness, and completely new environment—Ryel relied absolutely on specialized equipment: he kept his mind clear with thick cloth masks containing herbal filters.
Instead of ranging far, Ryel applied Slow Point Tactics, establishing "Warning Points" only 50-100 meters apart, moving carefully to ensure the next safe point always remained within the convoy's control range. To prevent getting lost, he distinguished direction based on the merchant master's guidance. Ryel accepted reduced reconnaissance range to transform his experience into meticulousness, relying on local survival secrets to maximize route safety.
Suddenly, the Fungus Grazer's roar echoing from afar, and Ryel's expression changed. A colossal silhouette flashed through his mind. A chilling realization followed: “This sound is...". He didn't hesitate to draw a signal arrow and shoot straight toward the convoy. He knew this cry itself wasn't frightening, but the meaning behind it was truly horrifying: A pack of assassins from the Mycelia Giant Mushroom Forest Zone was conducting a hunt!
Ryel didn't doubt that the Oak Lynx would smell their scent from afar. These assassins specialized in using scent and low-light vision to hunt—they certainly wouldn't pass up prey more appealing than the Fungus Grazer's thick, tough hide.
The light-trailing arrow streaked over the convoy’s heads, and Vesper’s pupils contracted. His decision was lightning-fast. He didn’t hesitate to order:
"Finn, coordinate with the merchant master, lead the goods to that oak trunk, form defensive circle."
Turning to Boris and Torvin:
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"You two brothers, four guards each, form the first protection ring. Remember to take lamps and all Myco-Stone Oil."
Continuing to turn toward Ronan and Liam, voice full of killing intent:
"Ronan and you will have a fierce battle—prepare."
Finally stepping toward the defense zone, Vesper didn't turn back but ordered with complete calm:
"Rowan and Theo behind me, Sable protect Rowan."
Under Vesper's decisive command, the entire merchant convoy immediately shifted to semi-Armored Circle formation and quickly pressed close, anchoring formation to the massive oak trunk beside them.
Theo witnessed this scene, inwardly respecting this veteran commander. He immediately understood Vesper's purpose clearly: Relying on the colossal root system, defense immediately eliminated one attack angle (nearly 45% of perimeter), transforming the oak trunk into a natural steel wall, providing absolute protection for goods and the Defensive Core from risk of being pushed back or attacked from behind. In just a brief moment, Vesper had perfectly utilized all available conditions to arrange a comprehensive defense plan against the Oak Lynx—level 5 magic beasts, mentioned by Rowan before reaching this region. They represented three words: pack, assassin, carnivore.
At center, twelve civilians along with all goods were stacked high at the core position. Finn with several support personnel would remain in the core, ensuring everyone maintained silence and no panic occurred.
Outside, Eight guards and two warriors formed the Hard Protection Layer—a seamless shield wall. Blue oil lamps ready to shine directly into lynx eyes, while Myco-Stone Oil inside prepared for use when they closed in.
With superior strength, Ronan and Liam were positioned at the defense line's weakest point, playing the role of "anchor warriors" necessary to hold the line, even break the siege and enemy morale.
Right behind the shield layer, Rapid Response consisting of Vesper, Rowan and Theo maintained command and strategic attack roles. Vesper monitored the entire battlefield and issued orders. Rowan stood beside him, preparing to use wide-area control magic. Sable, with high mobility, would protect her, helping her focus on magical control—one of this battle's trump cards.
Theo, completely protected by the shield layer, focused on providing suppressive fire, though in this fog-filled battlefield an archer's lethality had become weakest. But Theo thought, even in suitable terrain and environment, confronting a pack of level 5 magic beasts was no joke. It was an immense challenge for a mercenary team. Touching the two remaining magic arrows along with Al on his shoulder, Theo clenched his teeth. This was the true test of their recent training.
At the outermost ring, Ryel didn't stand fixed. He glided along the perimeter, using reconnaissance experience and guerrilla combat to break the hunting pack's coordination before they could reach the defense line. With his skills, the fog didn't affect him too greatly.
This formation temporarily transformed the merchant convoy into an impregnable fortress in moments, ensuring they wouldn't collapse before the lynx pack's surprise assault.
The mournful roar of the Giant Fungus Beast from afar echoed back, now completely silenced, leaving an eerie stillness, as if the Ancient Oak Forest was holding its breath. That silence itself was a roar heralding danger. Ryel, the lone scout, had sent the final warning signal, but now he was just a shadow gliding along the perimeter—a grain of sand trying to restrain a forming storm.
Right at the giant oak trunk, where Vesper had anchored the formation, the gray-green light suddenly flickered chaotically. This wasn't a glowing mushroom malfunction, but the movement of fourteen Upper Canopy Oak Lynxes that had redirected their hunt from the massive meat mass to the newly erected a fortress of living flesh.
The Lynx pack neither growled nor signaled. They'd learned to use the forest's silence as a weapon. The caravan's Hard Defense Layer, with seamless shields and green oil lamps pointed outward, now faced an invisible wall.
Vesper, cold eyes under lamplight, listened. He felt increasing cold, not from the environment, but the chill of deadly focus tightening around them.

