Every year in certain day of certain month, Aerium swarmed by certain creature. It's an event created by the guardian herself.

  "Aaahh..it's already that time huh.

  I can't wait looking at their effort this year, even more there's my reliable hero right now. Fufufu..."

  Freya wonders happily what might happen in this year's event.

  Cowfering, that's what mentioned in history of Aerium.

  The event is started since the first saintess summoned to Aerium. It's celebrated in every villages, city, town, organizations and even countries.

  They come from any backgrounds: Royalties, Worshippers, Commoners, and ofcourse Adventurers.

  The event is simple, yet amusing.

  Any participants have to hunt a special creature, be it may individually or in group.

  The special creature will be spawned out of nowhere, it's called Calden.

  It has robust body with height 13-20 metres and weight 300 kgs - 1 tons. It has four big horns and tough skin like steel, despite the normal appearance as a cattle. Its muscle is solid like rock which hides its tender flesh and sweet fat deep inside.

  It usually leads a group of 3-5 minotaurs.

  That's why the participant usually is a group consist of 3-7 high rankers. The rich ones usually hire a group of mercenaries for their individual name. But in fact, there're still many people who try to hunt it solo.

  From everyone percpective, this rare event is a chance to make a name for themselves.

  The event that initially intended to strengthen the bond between people of Aerium become another bloody battlefield.

  Low-ranker, high-ranker, nobles, commoners, it's the same case. Most of them try to hunt the creature individually. Their greed costs them greatly. Massacred.

  The ones who act individually fight each other over the Calden without noticing the minotaurs attack, it leads to their own miserable end.

  Every survived individual who has participated this event at least once, realize their humane limit. In the end, all of them agree to only one conclusion...

  Never participate this event alone.

  That's embedded in their deepest conciousness.

  Since then the highest authority in each organizations and countries issue an order of law that regulates the procedures for participating in this event, in the name of safety for everyone.

  Low-ranker party is allowed only to hunt minotaurs adjusted to each person's capability. B-ranker, despite being high ranker, stationed as scout or leader of low-ranker group. Only A-ranker or S-ranker that allowed to form a party with 7 members at most to hunt the Calden.

  No one is allowed, or even dares, to participate in this event ALONE.

  That's what it should be.

  .

  .

  .

  .

  .

  Until now....

  - Special event: acquired -

  The breakfast crowd had thinned to nothing. Most of Spawnhall's citizens were already in the streets, hanging lanterns shaped like cattle horns from shop eaves. The festival air was thick—anticipatory. Dangerous.

  Yuki sat in his room on the second floor, staring at nothing in particular, when the sounds drifted up through the window.

  Woosh-woosh. Fabric fluttering.

  Clink-clink. Wood being hammered into place.

  "—can't believe it's here again—"

  "—my grandfather still has scars from the last one—"

  Voices. Dozens of them. Below, the alley writhed with movement. People strung decorations, arranged food stalls, their laughter carrying an edge of nervousness.

  Yuki's eyes narrowed. He'd learned to recognize that particular flavor of human emotion: excitement wrapped around fear, the way vines choke a tree.

  Something important was happening.

  He headed downstairs.

  Rinne was wiping down the counter when Yuki entered. She glanced up, reading something in the set of his shoulders.

  "Morning, boy. Something on your mind?"

  "The crowd outside. There's something happening."

  Before Rinne could answer, the inn door exploded inward.

  Three figures tumbled through—an older man and woman, a middle-aged one behind them. Their clothes were worn but clean. Their eyes were bright.

  "Excuse us, madam!"

  "Madam, have you heard?!"

  They rushed the counter like a tidal wave of enthusiasm, their voices overlapping.

  Rinne set down her rag with practiced patience. "Uncles, Aunty. One at a time, please."

  "It's the Cowfering!" the eldest man blurted. "This year's celebration!"

  The middle-aged woman leaned forward, eyes glittering. "And we remembered—last year you brought back such an enormous catch, madam. We've already prepared the ingredients. We just need—"

  "—need you to hunt again!" they finished together, like a chorus.

  Rinne's hand stilled on the counter.

  Yuki watched her face. Watched the way her jaw tightened. Watched the breath she took before speaking, as if gathering something precious and heavy.

  "I appreciate your faith in me," she said quietly. "But I've decided to retire from adventuring. This year onward."

  The silence that followed was absolute.

  The old man's mouth opened. Closed. "We... we thought..."

  "Your attitude changed so suddenly, madam," the woman whispered.

  Rinne didn't flinch, but Yuki saw her grip the counter's edge. White-knuckled.

  "It's already decided," she said. Her voice had become something else—not unkind, but final. Like a door closing.

  The aunty stepped forward, somehow radiating both apology and frustration. "You two! Don't sit there looking like wilted flowers!" She turned to Rinne, bowing deeply. "Forgive us, madam. We've grown too dependent. Too selfish."

  "Not selfish," Rinne said, and something in her voice cracked. "Just... human. I'm sorry. Truly."

  The woman bowed again. "Then I'll excuse us. Thank you for all your help, madam."

  She ushered the two men out. They moved like ghosts—disappointed, shuffling. When the door closed, it felt like a small death.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  Rinne stood motionless. Her hands were shaking.

  Yuki crossed to the counter. "What's Cowfering?"

  She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she poured herself water with deliberate care, as if concentrating on not spilling it.

  "A hunt," she finally said. "Not just any hunt." She set the glass down untouched. "Every year, on the same day, creatures appear. Caldens. And their offspring."

  "Just hunting then?"

  "No." Rinne's eyes met his, and in them Yuki saw something he'd rarely glimpsed—genuine dread. "It's different from normal quests. Most hunters who participate..." She trailed off. "The ones who survive learn only one thing: never hunt alone."

  "But you participated before."

  "I did." Her voice had gone whisper-thin. "I had reasons. And I survived. But..." She looked away. "This year, I can't. Not anymore."

  "Because of Manna?"

  A nod. Just barely perceptible.

  Yuki processed this. The woman who could kill bandits without flinching was afraid. Not of the creature. Of what might happen if she wasn't here for Manna.

  "I see," he said.

  Rinne's hands steadied. She managed a small smile. "You should eat something. You've been sleeping too much."

  The registration line snaked from the guild's front entrance like a serpent. Twenty meters. Thirty. And it was still growing.

  Yuki had arrived at what he thought was early. He was wrong.

  Adventurers of every rank crowded the street. D-rankers stood nervously behind their group leaders. B-rankers discussed strategy in low voices. Even A-rankers were present, though they moved with the confidence of wolves in their own territory.

  "Yuki!"

  Emily appeared at his shoulder, breathless. She was dressed in her official capacity—the guild's emblem bright on her chest.

  "You got the news quickly," she said, eyeing the crowd. "Everyone did. The city's in a frenzy."

  "What's the situation?" Yuki asked.

  Emily's professional mask slipped. For just a moment, he saw the exhaustion underneath. "You passed. The Guild Master approved you. But..." She hesitated. "There are conditions."

  She explained the two options while standing in the shadows of a nearby awning—away from prying ears.

  When she finished, Yuki had already decided. "The first option. Open participation."

  Emily blinked. "Just like that? You don't want to think—"

  "No need."

  She studied him for a moment, then sighed—the sound of someone realizing they couldn't protect him, no matter how much they tried.

  "Then be at the Southern gate at noon. The Guild Master is personally forming your team."

  Steel boots. Steel sword. Wrist guards. Nothing fancy. Nothing that would slow him down.

  Yuki dressed methodically, checking each piece. The weightlessness felt right. Good. His movement wouldn't be hindered. His senses wouldn't be clouded by heavy armor.

  He was checking the sword's balance when Rinne appeared in his doorway.

  She didn't speak at first. Just watched him.

  Then she stepped inside and reached up. Her hand settled on the crown of his head, fingers threading through his hair almost absently. A mother's gesture. One he'd never experienced before he came to this inn.

  "Be careful out there," she said.

  Her voice was steady now, but her hand was trembling.

  "I've hunted alone since I was young," Yuki said quietly. "I have instincts. And good detection. So—"

  "Don't." Rinne's fingers tensed. "Don't say it like that. Like you're trying to convince yourself."

  Yuki looked at her. Really looked. The worry lines around her eyes. The way her jaw clenched. The small scar on her left temple from some old hunt.

  "It'll be alright, mom," he said.

  The word hung in the air between them.

  Rinne's breath caught. Her hand stilled in his hair. "Did you... did you just...?"

  "You wanted me to." He met her gaze steadily. "Didn't you?"

  She couldn't seem to form words. Her face had gone pale, then flushed with color. Her eyes glistened.

  "I... you can't just..." She pulled her hand back, pressing it to her chest as if her heart might escape. "Awawawa! What did you say?!"

  "That you should have the life you want, and that you're my mother," Yuki said simply.

  "D-don't just... you can't..." Rinne turned away, her entire frame shaking. "Just finish your breakfast before you go. I want to wash your things."

  "Mom?"

  She paused at the door, not turning around.

  "I'll come back," Yuki said. "I promise."

  Rinne's shoulders dropped. She left without responding, but Yuki heard her footsteps slow on the stairs. Heard her take a steadying breath.

  The assembled hunters filled the plaza like ants around a corpse. But the real attention was elsewhere—on an old man who'd just arrived, moving with the kind of authority that made people step aside without thinking.

  Guild Master Herald.

  Beside him stood another old man, lean and scarred, with eyes like flint.

  "Yuki!" Herald boomed. "There you are, boy! Perfect timing!"

  Felix and Briant—the gate guards—tensed noticeably. Their hands drifted toward weapons before they forced them back to their sides.

  "Guild Master." Yuki nodded. "I'm ready."

  "Ready?" Herald laughed. "Boy, you don't know what you're ready for yet! That's the fun of it!" His expression sobered. "This is Vanheir. Old friend. S-ranker. He'll be observing you during the hunt."

  The scarred man—Vanheir—studied Yuki with the intensity of someone appraising a sword's quality.

  "So you're the brat causing such a stir," Vanheir said. His voice was like gravel in a barrel. "The Guild Master's been singing your praises for three hours straight."

  "He exaggerates," Yuki said.

  "Damn right he does," Vanheir snorted. But something in his expression shifted—approval, maybe. "Herald says you're the real deal. We'll see."

  The War trumpet sounded—a low, bronze-throated wail that rippled across the plaza.

  The crowd responded immediately. Parties began forming. Leaders shouted orders. The energy shifted from anxious to deadly.

  Herald grinned like a madman.

  "The hunt is about to begin, boy. Go meet your team. The Assembly Center. They're waiting."

  Alpha Party—a simple name for a group that would apparently make history.

  Yuki found them clustered near a stone marker, watching other parties with the intensity of prey animals in a strange forest.

  The high-elf, Kairen, stood with arms crossed. Pride barely masked his uncertainty.

  Ludor, the dark-skinned gladiator, kept glancing toward the forest as if counting the trees.

  Cleo and Fanya—the dwarf-blood and human—whispered to each other, their cheerfulness forced.

  Vanheir gestured for them to gather. "Alright, pups. Let's hear it. Names. Ranks. Qualifications. Fastest way is straight through."

  One by one, they introduced themselves. Kairen spoke with pride about his four months as an A-ranker. Ludor bowed respectfully, nervous energy radiating off him. Cleo and Fanya stumbled over their words, excited and terrified in equal measure.

  When Yuki's turn came, he kept it simple. "B-rank. Beginner. Gladiator, some magic, hand-to-hand capable."

  Kairen's lip curled slightly. "A beginner? In a Calden hunt?"

  "Week ago," Yuki confirmed.

  Ludor leaned forward. "Wait. You're the one from the rumors, aren't you? The beginner who cleared multiple quests in a single day?"

  "Sixteen quests," Yuki said. "Then twenty-one the next day."

  Cleo gasped. Fanya's eyes went wide.

  "But that's..." Ludor's voice trailed off. He was doing calculations in his head, and they weren't adding up in his favor.

  The tension tightened like a rope.

  Then Duran arrived.

  The old veteran walked with the casual grace of someone who'd survived things that killed better men. His face brightened when he spotted Yuki.

  "Boy!" He clapped Yuki's shoulder firmly—a greeting that might have knocked over a younger man. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon! You made it to the guild in one piece, then!"

  "Yes, Mr. Duran. Thanks to your help."

  Duran laughed, settling into the group. But Ludor's attention had sharpened. Something in his expression suggested he was connecting pieces.

  "Mr. Duran," Ludor said carefully. "When did you meet Yuki?"

  "About a week back, near the eastern forest entrance. The boy was heading out to hunt, and I was... well." Duran scratched his beard sheepishly. "I was having trouble with my assigned quest, if I'm being honest. Found the area too dangerous that day."

  Ludor's eyes moved to Yuki. Then back to Duran. "The Lizardmen quest."

  "That's right! Wondered what happened to that one—" Duran stopped, watching the realization settle across Ludor's face like a shadow.

  "You didn't find any Lizardmen that day," Ludor said slowly. "I heard from the other hunters. Everyone was complaining. No creatures in the whole area."

  Yuki met his gaze without flinching.

  Kairen stepped forward, his pride finally cracking with genuine interest. "What are you implying, Ludor?"

  "That the Lizardmen weren't gone because they disappeared," Ludor said quietly. "They were gone because someone cleared them."

  The wind shifted. No one breathed.

  "That was you, wasn't it?" Ludor's voice had dropped to something almost reverent. "You cleared the Lizardmen nest. Alone. Before you even had your guild card."

  "It was a simple hunt," Yuki said.

  "Simple—" Ludor's hands trembled. He looked at Duran. "You were there. You saw him. That's why you met him there."

  Duran nodded slowly, understanding dawning. "The boy didn't just hunt. He hunted clean. Efficiently." He turned to Yuki. "Is that how you cleared so many quests?"

  Yuki didn't answer. He didn't need to.

  Fanya made a small sound—not quite laughter, not quite fear. "He's... he's not just a beginner, is he?"

  Kairen's face had gone pale. His jaw worked silently, as if chewing on words that tasted bitter. The high-elf pride that had seemed so natural moments ago suddenly looked fragile. Hollow.

  Cleo reached out and grabbed Fanya's hand.

  "Welcome to Alpha Party," Vanheir said, stepping forward. His scarred face split into something between a grin and a grimace. He looked pleased. "You lot are going to see something special out there. Try not to get in the boy's way."

  "Sir Vanheir," Kairen's voice came out strained. "Why are you... how is this..."

  "Why is the Guild Master gambling on a beginner?" Vanheir's eyes gleamed. "Because sometimes the real monsters don't announce themselves with fanfare and rank." He glanced at Yuki. "They just quietly clear the board."

  In the distance, the War trumpet sounded—low and bronze and final.

  The sound seemed to settle the question. There was no more time for doubt.

  "The hunt," Ludor whispered.

  Vanheir nodded toward the forest. "Move out. Stay together. Watch for anything unusual."

  As they began walking toward the tree line, Yuki caught Kairen still staring at him—not with admiration, but with something far more dangerous. The look of someone whose certainties had just cracked.

  The forest loomed ahead, ancient and patient. And somewhere in its depths, things were waking up.

  This event is inspired by Ied Adha—the Islamic Festival of Sacrifice. While the religious elements have been transformed for a fantasy setting, the core idea remains: a community gathering marked by both celebration and danger, where the bonds between people are tested through shared struggle.

  The Cowfering, like Ied Adha itself, is ultimately about sacrifice—share, not selfishness