There were three wagons in the convoy.

  The first carried the tamed wild beasts of Mica’s family—rare, hulking creatures with glistening hides and eyes that glowed faintly in the morning sun. There were only three, but each one radiated a quiet, dangerous strength that made even the coachman sit stiffly on the reins.

  The second wagon was the largest, its broad wooden frame reinforced with iron bands. Pulled by a massive beast with the patience of stone, it moved at a pace half as fast as a horse yet steady enough to carry nearly twenty passengers without a jolt.

  The third trailed behind, laden with camp equipment, crates of food, and racks of bundled weapons. The faint clatter of metal followed it like a whisper of promises—or threats.

  Inside the second wagon, the difference in age and energy was easy to see. Near the coachman’s bench sat the younger copper-class students, crammed together in a tangle of knees and elbows. Toby had somehow claimed the center of attention, standing with exaggerated gestures as he retold stories of their near-expulsions—every prank bigger and bolder than the last, each retelling closer to a fantasy than the truth. Their laughter shook the wagon walls.

  The middle section was quieter but no less lively. This was where the third-year students gathered: Mica with her close friends, Rin, and Suri. They talked endlessly, voices weaving together, though with a composure that set them apart from the noisy boys of copper class students. Kana sat just at the edge of their group, book in hand, her posture relaxed but her presence unmistakably older.

  And at the very back—near the wagon’s entrance—was silence. Raydon Kergastel sat stiffly, back straight, eyes sweeping the treeline with the practiced sharpness of a knight expecting ambush at any moment. Beside him were Mica’s cousin, her older brother, and a handful of copper-ranked adventurers. None of them spoke much. Their silence was heavy, watchful, like steel waiting to be drawn.

  The trip itself wasn’t long—just half a day’s journey north of the capital. Yet their destination was unlike anywhere else in the kingdom: a stretch of land where the tallest trees in the continent grew, their trunks so massive they dwarfed stone towers, their canopies casting shadows like drifting clouds.

  Somewhere beyond those trees lay the Tavis Titan’s nest.

  ….

  As expected of the peak of winter, even the beasts pulling the wagons shivered under their thick coats of fur. The cold seeped through flesh and bone, a relentless bite that not even enchanted cloaks could wholly keep at bay.

  The clearing ahead stretched wide and white, a vast expanse where less than a hundred colossal trees rose like tavis titans themselves. Each trunk was so thick that ten men holding hands could not encircle one, and the crowns above were lost in a heavy veil of snow. Their shadows fell long across the glittering field, silent guardians of the frozen land.

  “It’s colder here,” Boris muttered, pulling his scarf tighter. His breath steamed into the air and vanished instantly.

  “Indeed. The land here is elevated,” Rondo, Mica’s cousin replied, his tone steady as the hawk perched on his shoulder ruffled its wings against the cold. Its talons dug into his thick leather armor, leaving faint scratches. “The wind cuts through without mercy. Nowhere else in the kingdom compares to this chill.”

  Before the others could answer, Suri’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with certainty.

  “Oh, I think I found it.”

  Mica turned her head quickly. “That fast?”

  Suri gave a small, proud smirk. “I’ve had my illusions roaming since we stopped. Three trees bear eggs at the top.”

  Rondo frowned. “Then we choose the one farthest from the others. Less chance of drawing more than one Tavis Titan.”

  “Good call,” Raydon said, stepping forward. His gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of his blade. “Tavis Titans are fiercely protective. They’ll come in pairs if we’re careless.”

  The group’s breath misted in the cold silence that followed. Then Rondo’s voice cut through again. “We only need one. But prepare to fend them off. We’re not here to slaughter, only to survive long enough to claim the prize.”

  Roy’s grin flashed, breaking the tension. “But if we do see an opening—say, one of the Titans died—can I try to use my skill?” His eyes sparkled, the thought of such a monstrous summon almost making him forget the cold.

  “Resurrecting a Titan?” One of the copper adventurers guessed, barked out a laugh as they heard about how Roy skill worked, though it died quickly in the frozen air. “You’re insane.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Insane, but not impossible,” Roy shot back, far too excited for anyone’s comfort.

  Rondo held up a hand. “Focus. We’ll need strength before anything else. Camp first, fight later. I don’t want half the group too exhausted to stand when the beasts come.”

  The decision was made quickly. The group worked with practiced motions, driving enchanted stakes into the snow. The tents that rose shimmered faintly with runes, their fabric rippling with protective enchantments. The moment the first flap closed, warmth blossomed inside—a small mercy against the endless cold outside.

  Still, the shadows of the gigantic trees loomed over them, and in the distance, the faint echo of a bird’s cry rolled across the white field. A cry far too deep, too powerful, to belong to anything but a Tavis Titan.

  …..

  Suri led them through the snowdrifts to one of the colossal trees where her illusions had marked eggs. Two seasoned climbers wasted no time, scaling the trunk with ropes and picks. Their movements were quick and confident, practiced after years of experience.

  Kana tilted her head, curiosity sparking. Without a word, she followed, fingers gripping frozen bark. Her body moved almost instinctively, keeping pace with the experts as if she’d done this all her life. When she reached their level, the climbers exchanged looks of surprise.

  Down below, Boris had managed only a few meters before sliding back down. “I used to be a great climber,” he muttered, brushing snow off his hands.

  “You never were,” Suri shot back with a snort. “The tallest thing you’ve ever climbed is shorter than your height.”

  Minutes later, the climbers descended, their modified packs bulging with a prize the size of a human head. The egg shimmered faintly beneath its frosted shell.

  Rin’s eyes widened. “How’s the view up there? I wish I could see it.”

  Kana dropped lightly to the snow, brushing wind-tangled hair from her face. “Nothing but white and gusts trying to slap me off the trunk. Not worth the climb.”

  One of the experts nodded. “We were lucky. No sign of the parents.”

  As if the words cursed them, the wind suddenly howled harder, snow slicing through the air like shards of glass. A piercing cry ripped across the treetops, so sharp it rattled bones.

  The climber’s face was drained of color. “They’ve noticed.”

  A vast shadow spread over the clearing, circling once before dropping in a terrifying dive.

  “Brace yourselves!” Raydon’s voice thundered, cutting through panic. “Students to the back!”

  [Knight Roar]

  The command carried power that rooted even the most frightened students in place. The Titan’s shadow swerved mid-dive, abandoning the climbers to dive straight at Raydon.

  A bolt of lightning split the sky, one of the certified adventurers flinging the spell with precision. The featherless giant shrieked, its wings twitching as the stun slowed it.

  Raydon was already moving, sword blazing in the pale light. He met the Titan head-on, steel slamming into hide with a sound like splitting stone. Another [Swordsman] followed, their strikes weaving with him in rhythm.

  Kana watched, tension coiled in her grip. She didn’t summon her bow—not yet. Against creatures like this, tanks and warriors led the way. She knew her skills could kill, but watching Raydon… and the group of adventurers, their strength was more than enough to take the beast down.

  The fight dragged on. The Titan’s rage only grew, its focus singular: reclaiming its stolen egg. It battered aside spells, tore at the ground, screeched with a fury that rattled the enchanted tents. But with every slash and blast of magic, its blood darkened the snow until finally, with a last broken cry, the beast collapsed.

  No one cheered. The silence afterward was heavier than the cold. Each of them felt the weight of guilt—unspoken, but carved into their faces.

  Roy broke it with a whisper of a chant.

  [Raise Undead]

  The Titan’s body convulsed, then began to unravel. Feathers shriveled to dust, flesh peeled away, talons and beak stripped clean until only pale bones remained. Two red sparks lit in its hollow sockets as the skeletal wings stretched wide.

  Adam wrinkled his nose. “What a waste of meat. But… is it just me, or did it shrink?”

  Andel stepped closer, brow furrowing. “You’re right. And with just bone wings… will it even fly?”

  The Titan skeleton lifted its head, the sound of bone grinding echoing in the frozen clearing. The question would not remain unanswered for long.

  ….

  The undead Tavis Titan shuddered, its skeletal wings flapping with a dry, rattling sound. For a moment, it lifted—just a few inches off the ground—hovering awkwardly. Each beat of its bony wings devoured chunks of Roy’s mana until his face went pale, sweat dripping down his brow.

  When it sank back down, the bones rattling on impact, Roy still wore a crooked grin. “It flies. Not high, but it flies. Hah… ahh, I’m… happy and sad at the same time.”

  He slumped onto the snow, clutching his chest as he caught his breath. “I really need a bigger mana pool. The curse of every mana based class user.”

  That night, the group decided against traveling. The beast pulling their wagon was diurnal, preferring sleep like any human, and forcing it awake would only make the journey harder. So, the tents went up, their enchantments glowing faintly against the frost.

  Inside one tent, Rin, Kana, and Mica huddled beneath layered blankets. Shai, Mica’s feline, purred softly as it curled near them, its tail twitching even in sleep. The wind outside wailed against the canvas, but the warmth inside dulled its bite.

  “Will you be able to ride that egg once it hatches?” Suri asked lazily from her corner, propping her chin on her hand.

  “That’s the plan,” Mica said with a soft giggle. Her eyes sparkled with the kind of dream only adventurers carried. “I heard in the Empire they have entire flying units—soldiers mounted on Tavis Titans.”

  Kana nodded, pulling her blanket tighter. “They call them the kings of the skies. That unit… no one dares to fight them in the open air.”

  The tent flaps rustled.

  “Kana?”

  Andel poked his head inside, his expression careful. “My brother said he’d like a little spar with our golden badge holder.”

  Kana froze mid-breath. A forced smile tugged at her lips as she sat up. “Tell him I admit defeat. I’m not foolish enough to think I could match him.”

  Andel chuckled, scratching his cheek. “He knew you’d say that. He told me to mention something instead—Bear, Cat, and Dog.”

  Suri, who had been sprawled casually on her side, sat up straight, eyes narrowing. “Wait… what?”

  Kana’s stomach dropped. Her voice was tight. “…He knew all along?”