THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

In the dark, crimson forest, a shadow flitted with surgical precision, its movements smooth and silent, effortlessly evading the twisted roots and jagged rocks that littered the terrain. Each step was as light as a breeze, and the shadow's breathing barely stirred the air as it darted up the massive trunk of a tree, scaling it with the fluid grace of a predator.

When the shadow reached the treetop, it paused, and from within its depths, David emerged, the shadows around him dissipating like smoke in the night air. He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to scan the area, his sharp eyes narrowing as he peered into the abyss around him. But the darkness was almost impenetrable, broken only by the faint, eerie glow of the crescent moon. It hung low in the sky, casting a crimson hue over the

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, a ghostly light that seemed to make the shadows dance and twist in unsettling ways.

David clicked his tongue in mild frustration. The place was too dark, too treacherous. It wasn't just the physical obstacles; there was something else lurking in this cursed forest, a weight in the air that pressed down on him like a smothering fog. Still, he pushed the ominous feeling aside and focused on the task at hand.

He'd pieced together the nobles' plan. They intended to gather parties, scour the

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for the dungeon's boss, and overwhelm it with sheer numbers. And if things went south? They would use the commoners as disposable meat shields, sacrificing them to buy time for a counter-attack. Typical noble behavior. But David saw through their flawed strategy. This wasn't just about brute force; it was a trial designed to test them on more than just physical strength.

The real test was cunning, adaptability. The goal was simple: gather points by taking down as many monsters as possible, as Ray had outlined. But fear and survival instincts had clouded the nobles' judgment. They had become so focused on staying alive in the

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that they'd forgotten the first and most important rule of the trial—**follow the instructions.** It was that straightforward, yet they were blinded by their desperation and arrogance.

David sighed and looked ahead, his gaze piercing the gloom. There, something stirred in the darkness. Moving with the agility of a panther, David leaped from tree to tree, each jump calculated, each landing as soft as a whisper. Eventually, he dropped to the ground with a muted thud, dust swirling around his feet as he stood tall.

As the dust settled, his eyes landed on a stone structure that stood amidst the oppressive darkness—a statue of a goddess, ethereal and serene. The faint light of the moon highlighted its features, and David immediately understood what it meant. "So, this is the way back," he muttered under his breath, piecing things together quickly. Ray had never told them where the exit was. That had been by design. They were supposed to find their own way back, mirroring what it would be like in real combat situations—no easy outs, no guided paths.

David's lips curled into a faint smirk. This trial wasn't about fighting the strongest enemy. It was about understanding the true challenge and adapting to it. And right now, David was well ahead of the others.

David leaned against the cold, weathered statue of the Goddess, lost in thought as he scanned the

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. His mind raced with memories of the forsaken land—once a thriving forest, now a desolate graveyard overrun by Mycelial Monstrosities. These vile creatures spread through spores, draining the very life from the soil and leaving nothing but death in their wake. Normally, they would attack anything with a pulse, drawn to the faintest hint of life force. Yet, oddly enough, David hadn't encountered a single one since his arrival.

"Strange," he muttered, his hand instinctively going to his chin as he pondered the situation. It didn't make sense. He should have come across at least one of those creatures by now, given the nature of the bogs. What could be holding them back?

After a brief moment of contemplation, David made a decision. He needed more information, and he had just the ace up his sleeve to get it. "Luna," he whispered softly, summoning her with a voice barely louder than a breath.

The shadows around him stirred. Like living tendrils of darkness, they twisted and coalesced, forming the outline of a figure. The shadows thickened, swirling faster and faster until they burst apart, revealing a woman with long, flowing silver hair and eyes that gleamed like twin golden fires in the darkness. Luna stepped forth from the shadows, her presence both ethereal and commanding as she leaned against David's chest.

"You're such a meanie," she pouted, her voice laced with mock indignation as she looked up at him, her silver hair cascading over his chest.

David blinked, taken aback by her sudden mood. He tilted his head in confusion, wondering what had sparked her frustration. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, running his fingers through her silky hair, trying to soothe whatever had upset her.

Luna huffed, her pout deepening as she refused to meet his gaze. "Hmm," she grumbled, her expression making it clear that she was not going to make this easy for him.

David sighed, feeling the weight of her mood but unable to decipher the cause. "You know you can talk to me," he said, his voice softening as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I promise to listen."

Luna's pout faded slightly, and her eyes sparkled with mischievous excitement. Her mood shifted almost instantly, and a playful smile curved her lips. Her gaze locked onto his piercing blue eyes, a look of longing in her expression that caused a slight unease to settle in David's chest. Only on m v|le|mp|yr

"I want you to mate with me," she declared boldly, her voice carrying a sultry edge as her cheeks flushed lightly.

David's breath caught in his throat, and he quickly turned his head, coughing into his fist to hide the sudden wave of surprise that washed over him. "Ahem…" He struggled to find his composure, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. Luna, of course, knew exactly what she was doing, and her smile widened, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

David, shaking his head, cleared his throat once more. "Let's… focus on the task at hand first," he mumbled, hoping to regain control of the conversation.

David's arms circled around Luna's waist, pulling her close as he made a proposal. "If you help me find a pry with the scent of fresh waters and dried roots," he murmured, brushing a light kiss on her forehead, "I'll do as you ask." Luna's ears twitched at his words, her body stiffening at the gentle affection. She had seen everything David did in the shadows with his other lovers—sooner or later, she was bound to make her desires known.

A deep, almost animalistic growl escaped her throat as she dislodged herself from David's embrace, dropping to the ground with her hands braced against the dirt. Her Fenrir instincts flared to life, the shadows around her flickering like tongues of flame, ready to ignite. She became something wild and untamed, her primal hunting senses awakened.

David, meanwhile, had a target in mind: a specific breed of Mycelial Monsters, known to carry the scent of dried roots and usually found near fresh water. They were rare, and Luna's formidable tracking skills would help him locate them swiftly, racking up points before he confronted the dungeon boss. With her predatory instincts now fully engaged, Luna shot forward, her speed unmatched, like a wolf on the hunt.

David followed closely, his steps light and purposeful, but they hadn't made it far—barely a hundred meters—before the ground erupted beneath them. A swarm of Mycelial Monsters burst from the ground and trees alike. These grotesque creatures resembled twisted fungi, their bodies like hunched, gnarled mushrooms, with red, spiny caps dotted with hardened spores. Their muscular, clawed limbs scraped against the ground as they moved, their fanged mouths snapping hungrily, and eyes glowing faintly with a malevolent light. Each one bore the mark of rot and decay, the air around them heavy with the sickening stench of fungus and death.

Seeing Luna's pace slow at the sudden ambush, David cleared his throat, his voice calm but commanding. "Keep moving. I'll handle them."

Luna didn't hesitate. With a flash of her silver hair, she sped up, shadows trailing behind her like ribbons of smoke as she left David to face the swarm.

His fingers tightened around the hilts of his daggers as he took a steadying breath, closing his eyes for the briefest moment. When he opened them again, they glowed with an ethereal light. [Celestial Wheel] activated, and the world around him seemed to slow, his vision transforming into a swirl of cosmic blue and gold, like a portal to another dimension had opened in his gaze.

The Mycelial Monsters charged at him with reckless abandon, but David was already in motion. His daggers sliced through the air with precision, each movement fluid and deliberate as the swirling colors in his eyes deepened, guiding his strikes. The creatures fell one by one, their spore-infested bodies disintegrating under the force of his attacks.

Still, more kept coming.

David smirked, his eyes blazing with renewed intensity. "Let's see what you're made of," he muttered, ready to face the horde while Luna forged ahead into the darkness, hunting their true prey.