The sergeant gathered us all to brief us about the Venelion and our strategy for the fight. Even the conscripts were present, it seemed this time, the entire squad would take part. Every face was tense; handling a Tier 3 threat was never easy. One mistake, and the whole squad could be wiped out.
“Listen carefully, everyone. In my opinion, this threat is something our squad isn’t ready to face. The Venelion we’re tracking is early Tier 3, but this species has the potential to reach Tier 4. Its element is venom. At early Tier 3 it’s not yet magical in nature, but it’s still potent. It’s a cat-like quadruped with dense muscle and sharp claws, standing five feet tall, an ambush predator. Worst of all, its front fangs drip a faint, luminescent venom capable of paralyzing prey within seconds. Its tail ends in a cluster of black venomous spikes, like hardened bone shards. Those spikes can inject venom on impact or be used for slashing.”
He finished describing the beast and turned to me. “Edward, I’ve seen your skill with medicine and tinctures. Can you make antidotes?”
“I can make basic antidotes that might give some resistance against venom, but Tier 3 venom could be a problem. It might not work,” I said. Venoms were extensively covered in the specialization class; venomous beasts were the very reason that specialization existed, but Tier 3 toxins weren’t part of the basic syllabus. Those required prior knowledge of the beast and its venom and were normally handled only by professional alchemists.
“That should be fine. Luckily for us, an early-Tier 3 Venelion’s venom isn’t lethal, only paralytic. I know Tier 3 might sound like a dream for most of you, but believe it or not, this one’s young, just gone through dispersal and left its mother, so your antidote should still keep us alive,” he said, in a tone of superiority.
Wow. The way he spoke, you’d think he was a Tier 7 legend instead of another Tier 2 like the rest of us. I took a steady breath, though;maybe irritation was easier to feel than fear.
“Okay, Michael, help Edward prepare the antidote after this meeting. The two of you will stay at the rear and step in only if the situation turns dire; this isn’t a threat either of you can handle. Unless you’re Tier 2 or have an uncommon Tier defensive skill, even with shield and spear, you won’t survive a single strike. As I said, the Venelion has dense muscles. We’ll need high-strength fighters. We’ll form a four-man wall, Walter and Varric in the center to block its claws, Kael and Garran on the flanks to counter its tail. If needed, I’ll order a rotation: Kael and Garran will replace Walter and Varric.”
He continued, “Initial damage dealers will be me, Colin, and Owen, attacking from right and left. If it’s still alive after our mana runs dry, Jack and Barry will replace us.”
“Is that clear to everyone?”
We all nodded.
“How long to prepare the antidote?”
“Fifteen minutes, sir, with Michael’s help. Some of the herbs we’ve collected should work, and the fort’s supplies included a few useful ones,” I said.
I began mixing the herbs, grinding them into a paste with water. Once it was ready, I shaped small pills and wrapped them in leaves. I also made a thicker salve to apply externally; it should help neutralize surface venom. I hope that covers all bases,
I thought.“I suggest everyone take one pill now. The rest are wrapped for later, eat them as soon as venom enters the body; they’ll work better that way,” I said, handing them out. I gave a few extra to the sergeant and even to the conscripts, earning raised eyebrows from both sides. But most of the ingredients had been foraged by me; no one could question my choices, especially after I’d already given the sergeant a surplus.
“We should reach the lair in two hours. Walter, Garran, Varric, front. Michael and Edward, handle the cart and stay centered. Colin and Owen, left and right of the cart. I’ll take a position behind Edward and Michael. Barry and Jack, rear guard. Move out.”
From the formation alone, the intent was clear; the front was ready to lock down as soon as the beast appeared. It made sense; if Tier 2 Steelbeaks didn’t flee from a fight, a Tier 3 surely wouldn’t.
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We started marching. My guess was that the command had assigned us this mission because of the Venelion’s potential; if it established a lair here, it would threaten every patrol route. I doubted it would reach Tier 4 anytime soon; it took most beasts decades, but even a mid-Tier 3 would be a serious menace. Better to eliminate it now than let it grow.
After an hour, the forest changed. Not the terrain, the atmosphere. Too quiet. Even the insects had gone still. We had entered the Venelion’s territory. Every sound sharpened, the crunch of boots, the cart’s creak, the rhythm of our breathing. My nerves prickled, and I started cycling [Guard Duty (C)] in shorter intervals, with thirty seconds of active cycling every two minutes.
After about fifteen minutes, the skill gave me a strange pulse, faint tremors where there shouldn’t be any. I asked the others to check, but nothing appeared. No tracks, no movement. It didn’t make sense; no other beasts would linger near a Tier 3 predator. The sergeant dismissed it as paranoia and scolded me for distracting the squad before a major engagement.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. The sensation vanished, returned, then vanished again. I kept [Guard Duty (C)] running with a steady pulse and finally decided to send out a wave of [Mana Sensitivity (C)].
The moment I did, the warning hit like lightning, [Guard Duty (C)] screamed a high-level alert.
“AMBUSH! FROM BEHIND!” I shouted.
Everyone spun as a dark-green lion-shaped beast burst from the trees, charging straight for the sergeant through a gap between Owen and Kael, as if it somehow knew who commanded.
Suddenly, the sergeant pressed his hand to his badge. “Kael, in front of me!” he barked.
Kael moved instantly, raising his shield, but his other hand clutched his chest, face twisted in pain.
“Bastard!” Varric and Barry cursed together as the Venelion’s claws slammed down. The shield splintered; the next blow shredded Kael’s armor. Just as the fangs darted toward his throat, a flaming spear shot from behind, striking the Venelion’s temple and knocking it back.
Only then did I breathe again. The sheer force of mana and killing intent had frozen me for those first seconds. Now the world rushed in, shouts, steel, and motion. The sergeant dropped into an attack stance while Walter sprinted ahead to grab Kael’s fallen spear. Varric and Garran closed ranks in front; Colin and Jack shifted to flank as planned. Owen replaced Kael in defense; Jack took Owen’s spot in assault.
I dragged Kael back. A deep gash ran from left shoulder to chest, blood soaking through his mail. I tore into my satchel for salve.
“Thanks,” Kael rasped.
“I haven’t even applied the paste yet,” I said, frowning.
“N–no. Your runes, the armor held. Without them, that claw would’ve pierced my heart.” He tilted his head, showing where the wound stopped just short of it.
I nodded and started applying the healing paste. “Did it hit you with the tail or the fangs?”
He shook his head.
As I worked, Barry crouched beside us, eyes fixed on the battle. “Fucker used a mana oath on you, huh?”
“Yeah,” Kael whispered. That explained the pain and his delayed guard. The forced activation of the mana oath sends a surge through the chest, causing intense strain. No wonder he’d been clutching it.
Barry sighed, gaze still on the line. The shields ahead were carved with claw marks, and both flanks bristled with embedded tail spikes. The sergeant and Colin hammered the Venelion with everything they had; all of them were using skills, each strike tearing deeper, but the fight was dragging. Jack was already stumbling.
Barry shot a quick glance at me and Michael. “Get ready, you two might have to fight. If Walter hadn’t landed that first hit…” He shook his head, patted Kael’s leg, and rose, spear in hand.
If he hadn’t landed that hit, the whole squad would’ve been wiped, I finished his sentence in my head.
Michael and I locked eyes, both dreading what came next.
“Switch defense!” the sergeant roared. Walter and Varric shifted outward; Owen and Garran took point. The Venelion swung wide, Owen parried, and the sergeant seized the opening, driving his spear into the beast’s upper jaw.
“Edward, Barry, join the attack! Jack, withdraw!”
I gripped my spear tighter, lungs burning, and activated [Defensive Spearplay (C)], [Applied Military Theory (UC)], and [Guard Duty (C)] at full force.
Then I charged.
The Venelion was a living fortress, muscle over bone, its hide thick as armor. Every strike bounced until we angled perfectly. Its tail was as thick as my arm, lashing with venom-tipped shards. The only vulnerable spot was its neck, though even that was shielded by overlapping plates of flesh.
Ten minutes of coordinated assault passed. Even with four Tier 2 fighters battering it, the beast still stood. Through [Applied Military Theory (UC)], tactical prompts flashed in my mind, angles to strike, stances to hold, positions to rotate without breaking formation while avoiding its counterattacks. The sergeant had already warned me I couldn’t take a direct hit from that thing, and I wasn’t planning to test whether he was right. So we attacked, withdrew, and attacked again.
Finally, the Venelion faltered. Its breathing slowed, its swings dulled. The sergeant surged forward, driving his spear deep through the same temple wound Walter had made in the opening strike. The tip punched through the bone and into the brain.
The Venelion convulsed once, then went still.
For a long moment, no one moved. Then, as if a held breath was finally released, the entire squad exhaled. Varric and Barry collapsed to the ground, uncaring of dignity. The rest of us remained standing, leaning on our spears, soldiers keeping their posture, even when every muscle begged to give out.