The first sign of trouble was Caesar's sudden alertness. The horse's ears pricked forward, and he came to a complete stop, his body tense with attention.
"What is it, boy?" Haru asked, immediately on guard. Caesar's instincts had proven remarkably reliable over the past few days.
"There," Lumine said, pointing toward the tree line. "Do you see that?"
Haru followed her gaze and spotted movement among the trees. Multiple figures, trying to stay hidden but doing a poor job of it.
"Hilichurls," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "More than usual."
"A lot more than usual," Lumine corrected. "Paimon, can you get a count?"
Paimon floated higher, trying to get a better view. "Uh, guys? We might have a problem. Paimon counts at least twenty of them, and they're surrounding the clearing."
"Twenty?" Haru's mind raced. A normal hilichurl patrol was maybe five or six at most. Twenty meant either a major hunting party or...
"Ambush," Lumine said grimly, sliding down from Caesar's saddle. "They've been tracking us."
The hilichurls chose that moment to attack, pouring out of the trees with war cries that echoed across the clearing. They moved with coordination that was definitely not normal hilichurl behavior—these weren't random monsters looking for a fight, they were organized and tactical.
"Stay close to Caesar," Haru called to Lumine as he readied his powers. "And try not to get between me and them. My control's still not perfect."
"Understood!"
The battle began in earnest, and Haru immediately realized they were in serious trouble. These weren't the usual hilichurls who fled at the first sign of real resistance. These were equipped with better weapons, moved with purpose, and seemed completely unafraid of his reputation.
Moreover, they were clearly prepared for his abilities. When he created ice barriers, they had flamberge-wielding warriors ready to melt them. When he raised stone walls, they had explosive barrels to blast through them.
"They know our fighting style," Lumine shouted over the clash of weapons. "Someone's been watching us!"
"Fantastic," Haru muttered, then had to dodge a crossbow bolt that came uncomfortably close to his head. "Any idea who?"
"Worry about that later! Focus on not dying!"
The fight was intense, chaotic, and honestly kind of terrifying. Without his system's confidence boost, Haru found himself actually feeling the pressure of combat. His powers were still overwhelming, but the doubt and uncertainty made every decision feel crucial.
He was in the middle of flash-freezing a group of hilichurls when he heard Caesar's distressed whinny. Turning, he saw that several of the monsters had managed to get close to his horse, weapons raised.
Something cold and furious exploded in Haru's chest.
Nobody touches Caesar.
The world seemed to slow as Haru's aura shifted. The exhaustion and uncertainty faded, replaced by a crystalline clarity that felt like coming home. His red eyes blazed with controlled fury, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute authority.
"You made a mistake," he said, his tone conversational but somehow terrifying. "A very, very serious mistake."
The hilichurls closest to Caesar actually took a step back, their primitive instincts recognizing the change in his presence.
Haru raised one hand, and the air around him began to shimmer with elemental energy. Not the wild, uncontrolled power he'd been struggling with all week, but something focused and precise and absolutely devastating.
"Lesson one: Don't threaten my horse."
The ice that erupted from his gesture wasn't the chaotic explosion he'd been producing during training. It was surgical, precise, and beautiful in its efficiency. Each hilichurl was encased in a perfect crystal shell, frozen in the exact moment they'd been attacking, their weapons locked in place.
But he wasn't done.
"Lesson two: Don't ambush people during their romantic moments."
The ground beneath the remaining hilichurls shifted, stone flowing like liquid to create a series of perfect circular platforms that lifted them into the air. Not violently—that would have been crude. Instead, they rose with stately grace, giving each monster a perfect view of what was about to happen to them.
"And lesson three: Always check if the person you're ambushing is having a really, really bad week."
The combination of ice and stone that followed was like watching a master sculptor work. Each attack was precise, controlled, and utterly overwhelming. The hilichurls didn't just lose the fight—they were systematically disassembled as a threat with almost artistic precision.
When the last enemy fell, Haru stood in the center of the clearing, breathing calmly, his aura slowly fading back to normal levels.
"Cleanup complete," he said, then immediately stumbled as the confidence boost vanished.
"Whoa," Lumine said, catching his arm. "That was... incredible. And terrifying. But mostly incredible."
"Thanks," Haru managed, trying to process what had just happened. For a few minutes there, he'd felt like his old self—confident, in control, genuinely formidable. Like the system had been active.
But that was impossible. The system had been offline for days.
"Paimon thinks you looked really cool," Paimon said admiringly. "Like a real hero!"
"I looked cool?" Haru asked, perking up slightly.
"Super cool! You had that whole 'don't mess with my horse' thing going on, and your eyes were glowing, and you did that thing where you don't look at explosions!"
"I didn't look at explosions?"
"You totally didn't look at explosions! It was very dramatic!"
Haru felt a warm glow of satisfaction. Maybe he was getting the hang of this hero thing after all.
That evening, they returned to Mondstadt to find the city in a state of controlled chaos. The Knights of Favonius headquarters was bustling with activity, and Jean could be seen through the windows, bent over maps and tactical reports.
"Something big is happening," Lumine observed.
"Should we check it out?" Haru asked.
"Paimon thinks we should definitely check it out! Maybe they have snacks!"
They made their way to the headquarters, where Jean looked up with relief when she saw them.
"Perfect timing," she said. "We've just received intelligence about a major hilichurl encampment in the eastern hills. We believe that's where the missing adventurers are being held."
"How major are we talking?" Haru asked.
"Preliminary scouts estimate at least two hundred hostiles, with defensive positions and coordinated command structure."
"Two hundred?" Lumine's eyes went wide. "That's not a camp, that's an army."
"Exactly. Which is why we're mounting a full military response. Knights of Favonius, experienced adventurers, and anyone else capable of handling large-scale combat."
Jean turned to Haru with an expression that was part hopeful, part desperate. "We could really use your help with this. Your reputation alone might be enough to break their morale."
Haru felt that familiar twist of anxiety in his stomach. A real military operation, with real stakes and real consequences. The kind of thing that legendary heroes were supposed to handle effortlessly.
"Of course," he heard himself saying. "When do we leave?"
"Dawn. We'll ride out in force and establish a forward camp within striking distance of their position."
"Sounds like a plan."
As they left the headquarters, Haru couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to be tested in ways he wasn't prepared for. The ambush in the clearing had gone well, but that was twenty hilichurls. Two hundred was a completely different scale of problem.
But maybe that was exactly what he needed. Maybe the system would finally come back online when he was facing truly overwhelming odds.
Or maybe he'd discover that his newfound confidence was just wishful thinking, and he'd get everyone killed trying to fake his way through a real battle.
Only one way to find out.