“Hssss— ROAR!” What stood before Ronan was an especially bizarre creature.
At first glance, it resembled a carnivorous flower, except it had two “legs” and let out a strange, grating cry.
Looking closer, though, what seemed like legs were actually thick roots.
With every step it took, the ground around it cracked like shattered glass, and the plants nearby wilted and yellowed instantly, as if doused in pesticide.
Ronan narrowed his eyes, a strange feeling stirring in his chest.
The purple-and-green coloring, the wobbling gait — for a moment it felt like time had folded in on itself, and he was staring at a Chomper straight out of Plants vs.
Zombies.
Too bad he wasn’t a zombie.
“A plant-type monster…” Ronan murmured, snapping back to reality.
This kind of monster wasn’t rare.
With their varied forms and abilities, they were well known among adventurers.
They possessed mana of their own, though most couldn’t cast spells — they relied on their branches and leaves to attack.
Under normal circumstances, they weren’t much trouble.
But this one…
Ronan ran Detection Magic over it and reached a conclusion — a Mana-Eating Flower.
According to what was known, the species first appeared fifteen hundred years ago.
It fed on magic power, and loved swallowing creatures that carried it whole.
To this thing, the two of them probably looked like a cake slathered in honey.
Everything clicked into place.
He stepped in front of Frieren, shielding her.
Since the flower clearly had no intention of letting them go, there was no reason to hold back.
He raised a hand, and strings of numbers flickered across his vision.
“Total magic power: four hundred.
Physical strength: fifty.
Mana absorption cap: three thousand.
Not something to underestimate.” “Even I’d get drained dry by this thing, if I didn’t have a few tricks up my sleeve.” A three-thousand absorption cap wasn’t a small number — it rivaled centuries of an elf’s cultivation.
But no matter how big the number, it was still just a number.
After letting it get close enough, Ronan was about to reach for Feng Ling Yue Ying and rewrite its stats.
He was curious — would the thing explode on the spot if its mana absorption cap dropped to zero?
The thought had barely formed before he moved to act.
But right then — whether the flower had sensed danger, or caught the scent of a more tempting target elsewhere — It suddenly froze mid-step.
It hesitated, its massive bud swaying side to side, its cries slowly fading, as if it were weighing something.
Then, as though it had made up its mind, it spun around without a moment’s pause, its thick roots hauling it off to the right at speed.
That made Ronan raise an eyebrow.
“Scared?
Or is there something over there with even more magic power than me and Frieren?” “Not impossible.
It’s ruins over a thousand years old — plenty of dangerous things could be lurking around.” Whether the flower wanted to retreat or not, Ronan had no intention of letting it off easy.
It was nothing more than a pest, and cutting it down before it kept destroying the environment and killing things was simply the right call.
The thought settled, and Ronan flicked a finger.
In an instant, the flower’s steps froze.
A second later, its towering body collapsed to the ground like soft mud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Because its Strength stat had been reduced to zero.
“It’s not dead?” Ronan blinked, a little surprised.
He’d figured that alone would be enough to take it down for good, but apparently these monsters were tougher than he’d given them credit for.
Made sense, really — it was a plant-type monster.
A wilted flower wasn’t necessarily a dead one; give it some water, and it might spring right back.
And to a Mana-Eating Flower, water was magic power.
Ronan started walking toward it.
Martin called out in alarm, “Lord Ronan, please be careful — the area around it is toxic!” Even though Martin saw Ronan as an unmatched powerhouse, being strong didn’t necessarily mean immunity to poison.
He had no idea how the monster had gone down — Ronan hadn’t made a single visible move the whole time.
To him, the whole thing made no sense at all.
Was the monster luring him in, or was it actually dead?
Ronan ignored him entirely, simply raising a hand to signal he was fine.
He walked step by step into the so-called “poison zone,” watching the once-lush surroundings wither away with each stride.
Looking back, the contrast was striking — inside felt like autumn, everything withered and dying, while just outside spring still bloomed with life.
A rank, rotting smell drifted over, sharp like disinfectant.
Ronan held his breath and moved closer to the flower.
Up close, he realized just how massive the thing really was — even collapsed and limp, it still stood over three meters tall, like a small hill.
He reached out and touched it.
The texture was soft, with a bit of give, like an overripe squash — except it didn’t spring back.
Its plant fibers had apparently dissolved, something like muscle breakdown, which explained why it couldn’t stand.
Fortunately, it had no heart and needed no blood flow — otherwise it would’ve died the instant its stats hit zero.
Ronan glanced around and noticed the flower’s mouth hanging wide open, as if it were craving something.
The once-powerful roar had shrunk to a pathetic whimper, like a wounded puppy.
Ronan smiled and said softly: “Want some magic power?
Sure, here you go.
Four thousand units — that enough for you?” The flower obviously had no concept of what four thousand units even meant, and it couldn’t understand Ronan’s words either.
It simply reacted instinctively to the sound around it.
And then, in an instant— A low whine.
The flower suddenly began to swell, ballooning bigger and bigger like it was being inflated, its massive shadow blotting out the sun.
And finally— BOOM.
It burst, chunks of flesh scattering outward like shrapnel.
Wherever the fragments touched the ground, they simply vanished, as though the earth itself had swallowed them.
Right before their eyes, the dull yellow ground slowly turned green, and the already-green patches grew even lusher, plants bursting into wild growth.
As if the land itself had absorbed the energy from the explosion and was celebrating a riot of new life.
…
Behind him.
“That’s insane.
No wonder he’s…” Martin, who’d been halfway to drawing his sword to help, froze mid-motion, a swell of admiration rising in his chest.
He knew a fighter as strong as Ronan probably didn’t need his help, but he’d wanted to at least look the part.
Crushing a monster the size of a hill with one bare hand.
Was this what real strength looked like?
As expected.
His uncle really did have good judgment.
He’d never seen anything so spectacular in his life.
If someone like that went into the ruins…
He probably wouldn’t even need to slow down.
He’d punch straight through.
…
At that same moment.
Tap, tap.
Deep in another forest, a small, slender figure was moving swiftly barefoot across the soft ground.
Her golden hair cascaded like a waterfall down to her waist, and pointed ears peeked out from between the strands, their tips tinted a faint pink.
Moving at speed through the forest’s damp air, her skin had picked up a faint sheen of moisture, glistening softly.
Suddenly, she felt a faint pulse of magic power erupting somewhere in the distance, and her steps stopped.
She slowly lifted her gaze, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face before vanishing.
“A fight?” “Interesting.” Her lips curled upward — Serie’s mood brightened at once.
As the undisputed strongest mage among the elves, over the thousand-plus years since she’d matured, combat had become the one thing she truly loved.
Just a few days earlier, she’d gone all the way to Endai, the far north of the continent — where the Demon King’s castle stood — and thrown herself into a fierce battle with the Demon King himself.
She wouldn’t say exactly how the fight had gone, only that she’d come away unscathed while the Demon King was left with wounds that wouldn’t easily heal.
She hadn’t gotten her fill of it, though, and with the castle now under heavy guard, breaking in again wouldn’t be so easy.
So, after leaving that place, she’d set off in search of ancient ruins instead.
The magic humans wielded these days was simply too weak.
Only certain demons in the ancient ruins, born in the same era as her, could still stand as her equals.
Naturally, word had reached her about the discovery of the Pure Land Dynasty ruins.
That dynasty had fallen thirteen hundred years ago and had been founded two thousand years back — almost exactly her own age.
Perhaps some lost spells were hidden there, especially battle magic…
Serie’s eyes narrowed slightly as a thought crossed her mind: “If I remember right, the Pure Land Dynasty was the second dynasty in human history.” “Once the site of the very first dynasty surfaces, my goal will be complete.” “And then I’ll have the most complete collection of magic in human history…
I wonder what they’ll call me then.” “Demon King…
no, forget it.
He’s just a beast — not worth the effort of killing.” “Once he’s dead, life without a war to look forward to would get pretty dull.” “Better leave that to the Hero.” Serie never liked dealing with hassle.
Leave the professional work to the professionals.
She took a deep breath, settling herself, and kept moving.
Along the way, she pulled out a map to check her bearings, making sure she wasn’t drifting off course.
About half an hour later, she reached a human city ten kilometers away.
The city was lively, but she didn’t linger — she headed straight toward the ruins.
By then, Ronan and Frieren, drawn along by Martin’s suggestion to go “sightseeing,” had already arrived at the ruins themselves, in good spirits.
…
Inside the temporary camp.
Ronan looked out at the bustling crowd, his thoughts drifting.
“Finally here.
Ruins over thirteen hundred years old — hopefully there’s something actually useful in there.” “The stuff on the market is too ordinary.
What I want is something nobody’s ever heard of, something that makes people go ‘what on earth was that’ the moment I use it.” Having talent far beyond ordinary people and wasting it on run-of-the-mill spells would just be a shame.
“Lord Ronan, here—” Martin handed him a scroll of ruin exploration guidelines and explained: “This site has been under excavation for five years now.” “In those five years, with countless adventurers pushing through, roughly a third of it has been mapped out.” “The remaining two-thirds is still unknown territory.
Some adventurers say there are demons from the Mythic Era still down there.” “Every single one of them is said to rival humanity’s strongest fighters.” “Demons, huh…” Ronan listened quietly, not a trace of fear on his face.
He simply took the scroll, glanced over its contents, and handed it off to Frieren.
Another unfamiliar term, but it didn’t concern him — forward was the only direction that mattered.
No trap, mechanism, or enemy — not even someone at the peak of human strength — could withstand a single punch from him.
The only real problem left was finding those spells and magic tools…
The ruins hadn’t been fully explored, and the map was incomplete.
If he got lost, he could hardly just punch his way out of every problem.
And if the ruins collapsed on top of him, that would be a real mess.
Ronan’s mind raced, wondering if there was some kind of pathfinding spell out there.
Logically, after all these years of magical development, something like that should exist.
He was about to ask Frieren about it.
Then, a wooden sign by the roadside caught his eye.
Bold letters across it read: — PATHFINDER BIRDS FOR SALE.
“Pathfinder birds?” Ronan’s eyes lit up — talk about finding exactly what he’d been looking for, without even trying.
Just from the name, he could guess what the birds were for.
He stopped and turned to Martin.
“How much are these going for?” Martin caught his meaning instantly.
He followed Ronan’s gaze to the sign, frowning slightly, then said in a low voice: “Lord Ronan, personally, I wouldn’t recommend buying one of those.” “They’re domesticated for pathfinding, sure, but they’re incredibly weak — basically no way to defend themselves.” “The moment danger shows up, they can’t even flee in time.
They just become food.” “And of course, the places with real treasure are usually guarded by powerful monsters.” “So realistically, they’re not much use for exploring ruins at all.” “It’s mostly just people hyping them up to jack up the price.” “I asked how much they cost.
I don’t care about their strength.” Since he already knew he could rewrite a creature’s stats, why would he worry about a pathfinder bird getting eaten by a monster?
Ronan shook his head lightly.
To others, it might be a waste of money — but to him, it was a rare little treasure.
Listening to him, Martin felt a bit helpless.
He’d laid it all out so clearly, and yet the man was still set on buying.
Did he really have that much money to burn?
Well…
never mind.
It was his money — he could spend it however he liked.
If it turned out to be a waste, that wasn’t on Martin.
Martin sighed.
“Used to be, they went for about ten copper coins each.” “But these days, the price has jumped roughly a hundredfold — about ten silver coins now.” “A single expedition into the ruins usually burns through at least a hundred of them.” “How many would you like, Lord Ronan?” …
While Ronan and Martin were talking and stocking up on supplies, Serie arrived at the camp in a hurry.
Her striking presence drew more than a few glances.
And that’s when she caught a few words that gave her pause.
“Another elf?
Are elves just showing up in packs these days?”