Xiningna’s Strange Behavior

The green-skin paradise had turned into a scene of devastation. It looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster—trees snapped, the ground pockmarked with craters, and green-skin corpses strewn everywhere.

Even the largest and fiercest green-skin leader now lay lifeless, its once-mighty battle cries forever silenced.

Parker stood with difficulty, breathing heavily. His clothes were in tatters, caked with dirt and blood.

“In just six months, you’re already able to handle situations like this on your own,” Alea remarked as she approached, her tone filled with approval.

“My magic reserves are still too low. If I had more, this wouldn’t have been such a hassle,” Parker replied with a strained smile before slowly crouching down, supporting himself with his hands on the ground.

His magic and stamina were utterly depleted—a complete burnout.

Although the techniques and spells he had mastered were beyond what other magic users at his level could imagine, his mana reserves were a limiting factor.

While there were ways to accelerate the accumulation of mana through different training methods, there was still a ceiling to how fast it could grow.

Six months ago, he had been a lowly street thug. Now, he was a capable magic user who could hold his own.

The sheer opportunity that had fallen into his lap still felt unbelievable at times.

Turning his head, Parker looked at the black-haired, red-eyed girl standing a short distance away, arms crossed as she waited nonchalantly for him to recover.

She was the turning point of his life—someone he would never forget.

After a moment of quiet, Parker stood up, and the group left the area without a word, leaving only a battlefield littered with corpses behind.

Aino led the way, scanning the terrain ahead while speaking to Parker without turning back.

“For opponents like that, there’s no need to use Earth Bind. Their speed and aggression make it unreliable, and it drains too much energy.”

“Earth Bind, Earth Spikes, and Wind Blade... you’re playing—ugh, I mean, fighting—too formulaically. This opponent wasn’t suited to that approach.”

Parker nodded thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, with how reckless it was, I could’ve just used lightning to blast it directly.”

“Exactly. Don’t stick to earth magic just because you’re good at it. You’ve got decent control over other types too.”

Battle strategy was crucial—using the right attacks and tactics for different opponents could make all the difference.

Having mana and spells without knowing how to fight effectively was like being a clumsy giant: unable to fully utilize one’s power and easily defeated by weaker foes.

Aino couldn’t help but analyze magical combat as if it were a game. After all, for someone who had spent years immersed in games, this magical world had a strikingly familiar vibe.

Speed-based opponents? Control their movement. Tanky foes? Use piercing attacks. Berserkers? Kite them.

I’m a gaming pro, after all.

But here, defeating an enemy wasn’t just about earning a “+1” to the scoreboard—it was a matter of life and death.

“Master, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the spider monster,” Parker admitted.

According to the villagers, the spider monster was far more dangerous than the green-skin leader, with significantly greater strength.

Parker knew he didn’t stand much of a chance against it.

“Just watch me deal with it,” Aino said with a cheerful smile.

“...”

‘Deal with it’? More like obliterate it with two spells, Parker thought, his expression deadpan.

Both Parker and Alea were exasperated. They had seen this scenario play out countless times.

Whenever Aino fought, she always made strange remarks like:

“Let’s max out the output!”
“It’s not talent—it’s persistence and hard work!”
“Watch me operate!”

And then, with one spell, the opponent would be annihilated.

No comment.

Since the spider monster was in the opposite direction, Aino decided they would return to the village and head out the next day.

As they approached the village, they saw a group of residents waiting at the entrance, including Mosheler and the elder.

One of the villagers, sharp-eyed, spotted the group first and alerted the others. The elder raised his head with a delighted expression and called Mosheler to join him in greeting them.

“Congratulations on your safe return!”

The seasoned elder didn’t immediately ask about the monsters, choosing instead to celebrate the group’s safe arrival.

“Thank you. The green-skins have been dealt with. Tomorrow, we’ll go after the spider monster,” Parker replied evenly.

Hearing this, everyone’s faces lit up with joy, and the atmosphere became lively.

Everyone except one “person.”

Xiningna stood at the edge of the crowd, wearing a simple white dress. Her long antennae twitched in the air.

When she saw the group return, her posture shifted, and she lowered her head as if deep in thought.

After some small talk, the elder invited the group to a feast in their honor and suggested erecting statues to commemorate their deeds.

At first, Aino considered declining the extravagant gesture. But noticing the hopeful, admiring gazes around her and the rare atmosphere of joy in this desolate village, she hesitated.

The statues wouldn’t just honor the group—they would commemorate this moment.

The villagers would always remember the day these strangers came and eliminated the monsters threatening their lives.

It was like festivals in her previous life—Children’s Day, Labor Day, the Lunar New Year. The significance of these celebrations often surpassed their original purpose, giving people something to look forward to and a reason to relax.

“Alright. But make sure the statues represent all of us,” Aino said with a smile.

The elder was momentarily stunned before quickly nodding with a grin. “Of course, great one. I’ll select the finest materials and—”

“No, don’t go overboard,” Aino interrupted, shaking her head. “I’d prefer something simple and rough. I don’t want the village to waste resources on this.”

The elder’s eyes glistened, and his voice grew hoarse. “I understand.”

Aino said no more, leaving Parker to handle the formalities as usual.

She had always disliked dealing with such matters.

In her past life, there were countless times she had to navigate awkward social situations—chatting with distant relatives during holidays or handling business in unfamiliar places. But here, she could choose not to speak if she didn’t want to.

Still, it seemed someone was scheming.

Aino subtly opened her senses, detecting Xiningna whispering something to Mosheler before quickly leaving the village.

Oh? Feeling restless now, are we?

Aino smirked slightly but said nothing, following the elder to the feast.

It was more of a banquet, though in this impoverished village, even the best food couldn’t truly be called luxurious.

That night, the village was lively. The news of the green-skins’ complete annihilation filled every human heart with exhilaration.

For the villagers, it wasn’t just revenge—it was the promise of a safer future.

Only Mosheler felt uneasy. On such a joyous day, his “sister” had suddenly announced she needed to leave for a while.

It was nearly dusk—too dangerous to be wandering outside. Yet, despite his protests, Xiningna had been uncharacteristically firm, repeating that he shouldn’t worry before rushing off.

Not wanting to trouble the elder or Parker, Mosheler could only hope for her safe return.

Meanwhile, Xiningna was darting through the forest at an inhuman speed, emitting a strange signal as she moved.