"Your Fireball Skill proficiency has reached full mastery."
The last flicker of flame extinguished, and the gray-haired young man sitting at the table finally showed a comforting smile.
This was Ethan's second year in this world. For these two years, he had been doing the same thing—practicing the Fireball Skill.
4,015 prayers, 16,060 spells cast, finally bringing the Fireball Skill proficiency to the perfect level.
But soon, Ethan's smile faded.
Now, compared to others, he was just slightly more proficient in this most basic of magic, the Fireball Skill.
Outside this window, the revived Ancient Gods, the newly ascended gods, and their powerful followers—he didn't want to be entangled with these insane beings.
This world is fraught with danger, and the road ahead is long.
Ethan lit the gas lamp in the room, and the desk was piled with documents, with a notice from the guild issued a few days ago on top.
"Bounty Target: Werewolf, Estimated Danger Level: Tier 1"
The commission was issued by Lady Royce in the town. A few days ago, her husband went hunting with a shotgun and never returned. When the guild organized a search in the mountains, they found half of her husband's eaten body, with the chest cavity cut open and the heart swallowed by the attacker.
All signs indicated that the culprit was a werewolf, a byproduct of creatures who failed to ascend while worshiping the Hunting Goddess, reduced to mindless monsters feeding on hearts.
The reward notice was written by Ethan, who was the scribe for the town guild. His job involved recording abnormal cases in the town, posting commission bounties, and recording the progress of completed commissions. Although the work was tedious, he could access cases involving abnormalities without leaving his home and stay informed about the movements in the town and even along the borders.
However, today, Ethan's work had a significant oversight.
The reason lay in that red moon outside the window. The moon had a pupil, rotating occasionally like a giant eye.
Ethan flipped open an old parchment book on the desk, found the corresponding chapter through the table of contents.
"Blood Moon Ritual."
He skipped the narrative descriptions and found the key section. The book mentioned that under the influence of the Blood Moon, evil, aberrant creatures' powers would be greatly enhanced, manifesting in werewolves as heightened perception, increased strength, faster speed, and unparalleled regenerative abilities.
The Blood Moon would also amplify humans' negative emotions, causing them to lose judgment under fear, anger, and greed.
In simple terms, this was a massive enhancement for dark creatures while weakening humans—a battlefield buff.
Three experienced hunters took on the commission, and the guild awarded them Tier 1 medals. It was originally a surefire hunt, but everything changed due to the sudden anomaly.
Ethan was deeply anxious inside.
As everyone knows, werewolves are gregarious dark creatures.
So the question arises, why was a lone wolf wandering in the mountains outside the town, and why did it suddenly attack people in town?
Who kept releasing the Fireball Skill into the mountains late at night, and why did his skill proficiency always inexplicably increase by a small segment?
At this moment, the red moon outside seemed to scrutinize the suspect under the gas lamp like a famous detective, Mr. Sen.
Even nature was pitying the lonely werewolf in the mountains. Ethan could imagine that it was once a carefree young wolf living in blissful isolation in the wilderness, having a large pack where every wolf was gentle and friendly.
Until one day, several fireballs streaked across the starry sky, hitting them on the head.
The residents of Ximu Town knew that someone had released more than ten thousand Fireball Skills into the deep mountains over the past two years, causing two forest fires in the process. Every number representing proficiency reeked of sin.
The eerie red moon affected Ethan. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could foresee the fate of the three hunters.
A rustling sound echoed in his ear, and his vision swayed violently, seemingly as one of the three hunters was panicking through the forest, his pierced right leg making it impossible to take large steps, enduring intense pain with each move.
The sound of pursuit followed close behind, the high-speed moving shadow traversing the bushes, leaping onto a branch.
The hunter looked up and saw the shadow gliding past him. When the nearly three-meter-tall monster leapt down from above, a dismembered arm fell in front of him.
It looked like a female's arm, bearing the guild's mark.
The hunter fell to the ground in terror, screaming and retreating with hands and feet, but the massive body lightly pounced onto him.
Screams were drowned out by the sound of breaking bones, the hunter's chest was torn open by sharp claws, revealing a still-throbbing heart. The monster reveled in delight, tearing out the heart, swallowing it in one bite.
"Hiss—!"
Empathetically, Ethan took a sharp breath, experiencing the hunter's fear of death, as well as the werewolf's melancholy and rage.
No werewolf wanted to be a lone wolf; it should have hunted with the pack, filling the whole valley with joy.
This can't go on!
Ethan's heart was gradually overwhelmed by guilt. Since all of this was caused by his Fireball Skill, it was only fitting for the Fireball Skill to end it. He decided to use the warmth of the Fireball Skill to soothe the lone wolf's inner wounds.
In this way, they could all find peace.
With this in mind, Ethan began his 4,016th prayer.
Accompanied by a devout prayer, a shooting star streaked across the distant night sky, and the rolling flames set the blood-stained sky ablaze, making the town look as if it was daytime.
Ethan had heard from the townsfolk that shooting stars represent hope. The shooting star in the night sky grew closer, finally crashing onto the mountaintop like a fallen sun.
Unfortunately, he was too inexperienced to truly transform the Fireball Skill into the appearance of a shooting star, but he believed the lone wolf in the forest saw it.
Then, just like in fairy tales, the young wolf would see its gentle, loving grandmother in this strong radiance. The grandmother would pick it up, holding it tight, and take it to a world without cold, hunger, or pain.
This was the story of "The Little Werewolf Who Bought Fireballs."
Ethan felt a little solace from it, looking up at the blood moon high in the night sky, knowing clearly that even the blood moon approved of his actions, closing its eyes, no longer casting a cold gaze upon him.
Another good deed done today.
"Helping the lost child reunite with its family."
Ethan lowered his head and wrote this good deed in the book.
Then he turned off the gas lamp and closed the notebook.
"The Good Samaritan Record of Ximu Town."
The cover of the notebook vaguely bore this title.