망할 놈의 아카데미

암흑고라니
 – STORY –

My childhood friend went to the academy.

– GENRE –

Action Adventure Drama Fantasy Harem Romance Tragedy

I didn’t trust people’s words easily. For the most part, I was numb to people’s
emotions as well.

Whether someone liked or disliked me didn’t much affect me.

People pointed their fingers at me, labeling me by nature a nasty piece of work.

It wasn’t as if I was born indifferent to others and emotionally barren, though.

There had been times when I desperately yearned for someone’s attention and love. I
was capable of responding truthfully to the emotions of others and had sincerely
connected with someone, pouring out all my feelings.

It was just that, over time, I had grown insensitive to it all.

The first person to ever tell me they loved me was my mother.

A month after my father left for another city to make a living, he died in an
unexpected accident, and my mother raised me alone.

After struggling for several years, one day, my mother vanished, leaving behind a
letter that expressed her apologies.

For three days and nights, I roamed every nook and cranny of the city. Even when I
cried on the streets until blood trickled down from my forehead from a carriage
accident, I didn’t stop because I was afraid that my mother might be gone forever.

Exhausted, I would fall asleep on the streets, then wake up and continue searching.
That seemed to go on for nearly ten days. I was so hungry that I couldn’t cry
anymore, and I even got caught stealing fruit in the marketplace and was beaten for
it.

I was left neglected in the slums, half-dead, until a priest from the Acates Order
happened to find me and took me in.

Since then, I lived in the Acates temple, and more precisely, in the Loreille Hall, which
was operated as an orphanage.

There were about a dozen other orphans there besides me. Most of them didn’t even
know their parents’ faces. They firmly believed that their parents would come to find
them someday.

I longed for my mother every night. How could she abandon me so heartlessly after
saying she loved me? As a child, I simply couldn’t understand.

For several months, I cried every night. It felt as though I had been forsaken by the
world forever. As time passed, a life without my mother gradually became normal. I
realized then that even the greatest sorrow could become familiar and endurable.

Sometimes, the sorrow of being abandoned would surge over me like a natural
disaster, particularly when I saw other children my age holding their parents’ hands
and walking with carefree smiles.

All the orphans at Loreille Hall had similar wounds in their hearts, and perhaps
because of that, we were able to bond quickly. I managed to fill the emptiness in my
heart by being with them.

That’s where I met Liza. She was my age and had been entrusted to the temple one
year earlier than I had.

She was a girl with dull grey hair and big, bright eyes.

There was something unusual about Liza’s status – she was of noble blood, from a
renowned family of mages that even had some connections to the royal house, and
that she had come here despite having family to care for her.

Her parents died during a war, and her uncle took over as the head of the family. But
Liza suffered from her uncle’s violence and abuse, and after a series of rebellions,
ended up here.

After we became friends, Liza often confided in me.

“I envy you.”
“Why?”

“I wish I didn’t have a family at all.”

“You don’t know how lonley it is to be without a family.”

“So, can you marry a family member?”

“What are you talking about?”

“My uncle always said that. Our family is the most outstanding lineage of mages in
the continent, and to maintain the blessings passed through our bloodline, we must
forge ties within the family.”

“What?”

“And he called my mother a mongrel that rolled in from nowhere, without proper
lineage or family record.”

“He’s truly awful.”

“Be careful with your words. If you get caught saying things like that, this will
happen.”

She then drew her finger across her throat.

“My uncle would beat me all night for saying just one wrong thing. He won’t leave
you alone, either.”

“Does ‘forging ties’ mean you have to marry your uncle?”

“Yes. I would rather die than that. Once I’m of age, my uncle will come for me. It’s
terrifying. I’d rather die or become a nun than marry him.”

Liza didn’t easily become friends with other children. The other kids knew she was
from a noble family, and because of that, she struggled to assimilate with the group.

For some reason, she opened up to me. Maybe she liked that I listened well. She
enjoyed talking, and I enjoyed listening.
I was Liza’s closest friend. Whether we were in prayer, attending doctrine and
manners classes, or even eating meals, she would sit by my side. Even during
playtime with the other children, she always teamed up with me.

Liza loved flowers and herbs. Whenever she had free time, she studied botany on her
own. After classes, she would drag me along for walks in the forest. She’d get excited
whenever she found a familiar herb, eagerly recounting stories she had read in
books.

For much of my childhood, Liza was always there beside me. While her presence
certainly provided support for my troubled emotions, it was not always easy.

If I ever sat next to another child or mingled with others after class, she would sulk
and lock herself in her room for hours.

When she was upset, I would pick her favorite flowers or herbs to cheer her up. She
especially loved a flower called Elcantara; it had no special properties, but she
favored it because of its beautiful petals and sweet scent. She would immediately
brighten up upon receiving them.

But there were times when not even flowers and herbs could soothe Liza’s intense
anger.

She didn’t get along well with another girl at the temple, and if I associated with her,
Liza would express her jealousy and anger through drastic actions.

When she was mad, she’d pour sand into my bedding or tear my clothes and
notebooks to shreds. She’d been harsher with the girl I’d spent time with, secretly
sprinkling poisonous plant powder into her pillow, which ended in serious
reprimands.

Fed up with her excessive behavior, I once declared that we should part ways. In
response, Liza stopped eating, locked herself in her room, and became a recluse.
That reclusive stunt lasted an entire week. The priests said they heard her sobbing
mournfully when they passed her door at dawn.

As Liza’s health declined, the matron intervened and forced us to reconcile, ending
her period of seclusion.

Liza and I stayed together even into our adolescence.

As Liza reached puberty, her appearance changed significantly. Her dull grey hair
turned to shimmering silver, and her initially playful eyes deepened into a more
womanly expression. She grew taller every day, her cheeks slimmed down, and her
jawline sharpened. Her skin grew paler as time passed.

Liza’s meetings with the high priestess became more frequent due to issues with her
heritage.

“A well of power has opened up.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a special ability from our Pascal lineage. Our family members have it open
around my age.”

“Is that good?”

She caressed her silvery hair, draping it to the side as she spoke.

“Yeah. My well is in the solar plexus, where a lot of magical power emerges. This hair
color change is also due to the well. I preferred how it was before.”

“You look splendid now, too.”

“Thanks to the well, our family members don’t age much.”

“Hm.”

“You’ll be a middle-aged man, and I’ll still look pretty much the same.”

“I wouldn’t want to be treated like a child by then.”

“Neither would I. And the high priestess said she would teach me basic magic.”

“Starting when?”

“From tomorrow.”

“So, starting tomorrow, I have a mage friend?”

“Yep. Starting from tomorrow, don’t cry or cause trouble in my absence.”

“Are you going far away?”

“No, I’m just going to have separate lessons for an hour or two in the evening.”

“What will I do in the evenings?”

“Just stay out of trouble. Or better yet, spend the time thinking about me. Think
about what we can do together.”

Watching her grow up, it became starkly clear to me: Liza and I were fundamentally
different. Our backgrounds, innate talents, and growing appearances – the
differences became more pronounced over time. If not for the Acates priest who had
picked me up, we might have never crossed paths.

But fate had it that she and I were the closest of friends, family, and companions. We
shared everything about each other. As time went on, Liza and I became deeply
embedded in each other’s lives. Our bond was emotionally tight, and life without one
another became unimaginable.

Liza feared growing older. It was the fear of her uncle coming to take her that
terrified her.

After Liza’s power well opened, the Pascal family’s retainers visited the temple every
six months to check on her condition.

On the days she faced them, Liza’s expression was terribly agitated.

Since then, Liza habitually brought up the topic of staying together even when we
grew up.

“Let’s always live together when we’re older.”

She would playfully suggest marriage, to which I would agree every time.

We both knew how difficult it would be to keep this promise and stay together as
adults. The likelihood of us parting was high, and as Liza’s abilities blossomed and
she grew day by day, I felt this more acutely.
But by making such promises, we could momentarily forget our troubles.

At Acates temple, orphans older than 17 couldn’t stay at Loreille Hall. Therefore, they
had to find their path early and learn to live independently once the time came.

Liza had the potential to become an excellent mage. It was likely she would enter the
academy at 17. Her future was promising.

I began learning metalwork at 14, and by 15, I was in a sizable workshop doing odd
jobs and gradually acquiring the skills.

Time flew by and we turned 15. Liza was edgy and sensitive during that period.

The Pascal retainers visited more frequently, and equally, Liza sought me out more
often.

After meetings with the retainers, she sometimes held me tight, trembling silently
like a lost puppy. When I asked what was wrong, she stayed silent.

At the workshop, I collected discarded scraps of iron and wire. I picked out the
decent pieces, melted them, and joined them together, applying the techniques I
learned while I worked through the night to make a ring.

When I presented my first creation to Liza, she was overjoyed. She slipped the ring
onto her left ring finger. She beamed and showed it off like it was a diamond, flipping
her hand back and forth in the light.

“I’ll give you something even nicer later.”

“This is perfect already.”

Liza’s laughter was always a pleasure to see. How long could I keep watching her
smile? A desire to always be with Liza grew inside me.

And then, on a summer’s day when I was 15, I heard the words ‘I love you’ for the
second time in my life.
I leaned against a column in the corridor crossing the estate, waiting for Liza.

I saw her at the end of the corridor, walking toward me. She was returning from her
class, approaching me slowly.

Then she embraced me. We had gotten into the habit of hugging each other at some
point. After sharing our warmth for a long time, she said,

“Ah, it feels like I’m alive again.”

“How was class?”

“Mmm…”

After saying so, she stayed silent for a while.

“…I love you.”

Her confession, coming out of nowhere, set my heart ablaze. But soon after, I
naturally accepted her words, like the flow of the seasons. It was a sentiment I could
feel through our time together and something that had already been proven through
our actions.

“Yes. I love you too.”

Being able to connect with Liza was the greatest blessing of my life.

Sadly, our time together was running short.

High priests and envoys from the Pascal family were in discussions about Liza’s
enrollment in the Eternia Academy. Whether she liked it or not, Liza had to go to the
academy. Eternia Academy was in a distant foreign land, and her departure would
mean our separation for life.
I couldn’t go to the academy. I had no talent for magic, and even if I did, I couldn’t
afford the immense tuition fees.

We racked our brains trying to find a way to stay together after leaving the temple.
No matter how hard we tried, no viable solution presented itself.

Liza often hugged me and burst into tears. I didn’t need to ask her why she was
crying to know the reason.

One day at dawn, Liza snuck into my room, bypassing the nuns’ watch. She woke me
with an excited voice.

“I saw a star falling.”

“And why’s that?”

“There is tremendous energy in the fragments of a fallen star. And there’s a herb that
grows near where a star’s fragment falls, feeding off its energy. They say if you
consume this herb, you can see the future. It’s written in the book of the great sage
Rutavis.”

“See the… future?”

“If we could see the future, we might be able to solve the problem that’s been
tormenting me. And if we sell the star fragment, we could have enough money to live
together forever.”

“Finding that is impossible.”

“It’s not. I saw it fall really close by. I’ve marked the estimated location on the map.
We might reach it in about a week…”

Liza spread out the map in front of me, pointing to a circle drawn in one corner. It
was marked as an unexplored region. Uncharted areas were known to house
unknown dangers, most notably the ‘beasts’ that lurked there.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“It doesn’t matter. There is no other way for me. You know that, right?”
Liza had already made up her mind. She spoke as if possessed, her resolve
unshakable regardless of anything I could say.

We prepared to set out. I gathered all the money I’d saved from working at the
workshop. We packed items necessary for camping and one of the more intimidating
tools from the workshop.

It seemed like a long journey ahead. I pondered what to say to the matron, but Liza,
insisting we had no time to waste, urged us to leave immediately.

“We can’t delay. Let’s leave today.”

We stuffed our backpacks with dried meat and biscuits from the temple’s storehouse
and snuck out.

Then we set out in search of the star fragment.

On the first day, we walked from dawn till dusk. As we exited the outskirts of the city,
night fell. To conserve our food supplies, we paid for our meal in money.

The next day, we entered the prairies. Along the way, Liza picked herbs that could aid
our stamina. I kept a constant check on Liza’s condition, ready to return without
hesitation if her health declined.

The following day, the rain poured down. A fierce thunderstorm lashed relentlessly,
and we lost our way several times. Despite wearing robes, we were soaked through.
Liza began showing signs of hypothermia, prompting us to end the day’s traveling
earlier than planned.

We took refuge in a cave underneath a cliff.

Exhausted in body and mind, Liza could not concentrate, and with kindling all wet,
not even magic could spark a fire.

Clad only in our undergarments, we huddled together for warmth, wrapped in

waterproof fabric, and spent the night.

By morning, Liza’s body was scalding hot. She had a high fever. I managed to light a
fire using branches that had dried overnight and fetched some antipyretic herbs
from the forest for her.
Then I said to her,

“We can’t keep going. Let’s head back.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Continuing in your condition is reckless.”

“No, I can make it.”

Liza stubbornly insisted.

After eating and resting a bit, we proceeded. The storm had weakened, but a misty
rain still persisted. Liza frequently stumbled and fell from exhaustion while we
walked. Each time, I would carry her on my back for hours.

We wandered aimlessly, unsure if we were going the right direction. Strangely, as we

moved forward, I felt we were getting closer to the star fragment.

With Liza slumped on my back, she asked in a drowsy voice,

“Are we going the right way…?”

“I’ve memorized the map. Don’t worry too much.”

Liza clung more tightly to my shoulder, her anxiety unabated.

As the sun set, we camped in an abandoned cabin. We lit a fire in a dusty fireplace
and had dried meat for a snack.

Liza, claiming she was cold, once again clung to me through the night. Even when
sweat soaked our clothes, she didn’t let go.

We continued moving the next day, and the day after that, too.

Days went by without proper baths, and our food supplies were dwindling. Our
clothes were torn and the seams frayed with barely any intact areas remaining.

Liza didn’t care whether she smelled of sweat or was dirty; she would always hug me
to sleep each night. Liza always smelled nice. When I asked her why, even she
seemed not to know.

Waking up, we climbed a hill that offered a view of the surroundings. Far away, a
large and brilliantly blue lake was visible.

Liza said with vivacity,

“We’re on the right track. It has to be near that lake.”

I was filled with more dread than anticipation. I questioned whether the miraculous
herb that allowed one to see the future truly existed and we were vulnerable to
untamed beasts or creatures at any moment because we were now in an unexplored
area.

My sense of apprehension was soon vindicated when we were attacked by one of

those creatures.

We aimed for the lake and moved forward. It was supposed to be a straight path
according to the direction we had checked beforehand, but the dense forest
disoriented us and we lost our way twice.

Amidst our aimless wandering, Liza suddenly grabbed my wrist and stopped.

“Something’s wrong. I can feel magic.”

“What do you mean by ‘wrong’?”

“It’s definitely magic, but it’s not from a human source.”

Just then, the wind blew. An eerie chill accompanied the rustling of trees, their leaves
swirling everywhere. It felt as if the entire forest was trembling in terror. The
surroundings grew darker.

From a corner in the forest, a strange moan emerged. It was neither human nor
animal nor beast—it was an instinctual realization.

Soon, something inky in figure swooped towards us from the shadows deeply cast
within the wood.

Liza exclaimed,
“Wraiths… wraiths!”

I had heard about wraiths only in books or tales of adventure. Mighty heroes slaying
gigantic beasts. Knights sweeping across the continent. Mercenaries leading armies
that threatened empires. And invariably, those great human figures met their
insubstantial and futile end at the hands of these otherworldly beings.

Liza promptly assumed a stance and began gathering magical energy for casting.

I drew the hammer I used at the workshop. There was no chance it would be
effective, but I needed to stall, giving Liza time to cast her magic from the rear.

The wraith closed in on us at high speed and floated stationary a few meters away.

Hiss, ssss ssss ssss-

The wraith’s haunting moan made the hair on my body stand on end.

Draped in a dark robe, it had mummified arms and freakishly long and grotesque
fingers, like spider legs—a likely three times the length of a normal human.

The wraith’s billowing hem revealed only darkness and void where its feet should
be, with black smoke jetting out.

My entire body trembled just from its presence alone. I had no idea why such a
fearsome entity would be here of all places.

Liza, who had gathered her power, chanted a spell, and a pumpkin-sized fireball
hurtled toward the wraith.

However, the fireball simply passed through the wraith’s body and struck a tree
behind it. With a loud crack, the tree split in two.

“It… passed through?”

Liza showed signs of panic and hastily chanted again.

The magical attack once again went through the wraith’s body.

The wraith didn’t respond to Liza’s assault. Instead, it stretched its hideous fingers
toward me.

I stepped back, swinging the hammer around.

“Damn, get the hell away!”

The wraith remained unresponsive to my threats. We huddled like cornered mice.

As the wraith’s fingers neared my body, I swung the hammer with all my might.

Thud, and the hammer’s swing connected, sending the wraith’s arm flying. Caught
off-guard by the unforeseen attack, the wraith recoiled backward.

“Run!”

I grabbed Liza’s hand and bolted. We ditched our pack and supplies just to run faster.

Not long afterward, the wind howled again and the forest convulsed. The wraith’s
cries spread in all directions.

The only thing in my mind was to save Liza, even if it cost me my life.

Looking back, I saw the wraith in hot pursuit.

While running, Liza chanted and launched spheres of light behind her. These spheres
of light had no effect on the wraith.

“How did you hit the wraith?”

“I don’t know! Now’s not the time to think about that!”

Gasping for breath, Liza said,

“No, we need to know. We have to try something!”

“I hit it and it worked!”

“Wraiths are impervious to physical attacks, how did you do it?”

“I don’t know!”
We were mindlessly running when we hit an uphill slope. Behind us, the wraith was
rapidly catching up. Without a moment to think, we raced up the slope. Reaching the
top, we had to stop—a cliff was before us.

I bit my lip. We were cornered with nowhere left to go.

The wraith, realizing we had stopped, emitted black smoke as it approached us.

It made a grotesque and chilling sound.

Standing in front of Liza, I faced the wraith with the hammer raised. As the wraith
stretched its hand into me again, I swung my weapon. This time, the wraith seemed
wary of the threat, flinching in reaction.

I brought the hammer down with force against the wraith’s approaching hand.

Hiss, hiss hiss hiss-

Black smoke billowed out from the wraith’s lower body. Then, that smoke enveloped
and encircled me. I swung the hammer to create a gust, but it was futile.

As the smoke wrapped around me, my body was bound as if tied up.

“My body won’t move, damn it, damn it!”

“Just hold on, I’ll do something with magic…”

As I was immobilized, the wraith reached toward me, its lengthy fingers piercing
right through my abdomen without giving me a chance to resist.

The most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my life spread through my waist and
intestines.

“Kuhuk!”

Blood spurted from my throat.

The wraith lifted my body effortlessly into the air. I dangled helplessly, as though
skewered.
It placed my body above its head, and my blood drizzled down onto the wraith’s
pitch-black face. Then it twisted the hand inside me. My body gushed blood as if
wrung out like pulp.

I screamed horrifically.

The wraith seemed to take pleasure in soaking up my blood.

Even in this situation, all I could think about was saving Liza. I turned my head. My
vision blurred so much that I could barely see Liza. She appeared to be shouting
something, but I couldn’t hear anything.

With all my remaining strength, I screamed.

Run away.

But no voice came out, only my mouth flapped uselessly.

Suddenly, the wraith’s motions halted. Something was off–the arm impaling me
twitched minutely. The wraith’s body then convulsed violently and soon curled in on
itself.

Screech-

Blood spewed from the wraith’s inky face. Once, twice, like sneezing, blood burst
forth and it began to regurgitate all the blood it had ingested from me, as if it had
drunk rotten wine.

It looked as though something was tormenting the wraith.

The wraith destorted in agony, then with a powerful swing, sent my body flying over
the cliff edge.

My body arced in the sky, tumbling off the cliff.

Time seemed to move slowly.

In that moment, a flash of silver hair caught my eye.

I saw Liza reaching out from below the cliff. I stretched my hand out towards her, but
we were already too far apart to reach each other.

I drank in the sight of Liza to the very end.

The place I awoke to was neither heaven nor hell, nor was it beneath the cliffs. It was
the infirmary of the Acates Temple, where warm sunlight poured down by the
window.

There was no one else on the other beds—only I lay there alone. A nun was by the
window, watering the plants.

I spoke to the nun.

“How am I here…?”

Startled, the nun turned around. After our eyes met and a brief silence passed, she
spoke,

“Just wait here for a moment.”

After the nun left, soon, Sister Dolores who had cared for me since my childhood,
Priestess Azena, and Matron Yulan entered the room.

Dolores, seeing that I had regained consciousness, came rushing to hold my hand
firmly and choked up with tears.

“You’re awake… I thought you might never get up again. Promise me you will never
do anything so reckless again!”

“I’m sorry…”

The matron spoke.

“I am truly glad you woke up. You cannot imagine how worried we all were. The
goddess Acates must have watched over you.”

Following that was Matron Yulan’s stern reprimand. More than anger for causing
trouble, I could feel that she was chastising me with genuine affection. I bowed my
head and accepted their admonition.

I was an orphan with nothing to my name. To be cared for and shown interest when
no blood was shared or no connections bound us—it was something I was
profoundly grateful for.

Once the scolding ended, I was informed about everything that happened after I lost
consciousness.

The priests, having realized our absence, had contacted the retainers of the Pascal
family. Some of them had followed our trail along with the retainers.

They found me lying in a near-dead state.

“Liza used every means possible to save you.”

Liza had done everything she could, employing surrounding herbs and healing
magic, to forcefully bring my nearly dead body back to life. What astonished the
priests and the retainers was that Liza had achieved something that would have
normally required several high-level magicians working together.

It was said that the wraith, after drinking my blood, went into a fit of agony and fled.

Wraiths were known to prey on the blood. No one knew why it had reacted so
violently to my blood.

“There’s nothing left for us to say but that it’s a blessing from the goddess.”

Sister Dolores added,

“On special days, we prepare food using holy water—perhaps it played a part.”

Since the only attacks capable of affecting wraiths were holy magic or holy water, my
blood must have contained some mysterious sanctity.

“What about Liza?”

As I asked about Liza, everyone hesitated to respond. I sensed a delicate change in

the atmosphere. There was a reluctance—a harbinger of bad news.
“Liza left for the academy to prepare for the entrance exam.”

“Wasn’t the preparation supposed to start next year?”

Normatively, entry to the academy was at the age of 17, and Liza and I were only 15.
Even accounting for a preparatory period, it was too early.

Dolores, with a pitiful look in her eyes, said,

“Many things happened to Liza while you were laid up.”

Liza, having caused great trouble, could no longer stay at the Acates Temple. This
had been decided by the Pascal family.

“Liza stayed with the family’s territory and decided to enroll early in the academy.”

It was crushing news to me. It seemed the Pascal family had resolved to keep Liza
and me entirely separated. The unexpected permanent separation caused an ache in
my chest.

I fully recovered after two weeks and resumed my routine, thanks to the nuns’
devout care.

I missed Liza terribly. But I had to start truly standing on my own. Liza, who had
always been by my side, was no longer there. With not much time left until my
departure from the temple, I needed to learn how to live independently without the
Acates Temple’s care.

Returning to work, I gradually began to receive recognition at the workshop.

Although the wages weren’t substantial, I was starting to earn pay officially. I would
sleep at Loreille Hall and spend the majority of my days in the workshop.

With time, I moved up from doing menial chores to an apprenticeship position.

Subsequently, I could make objects with my own mark and supply them to a jewelry
shop.

One day, a letter from Liza arrived.

Contrary to expectations, it simply contained brief news about her.

She had heard that I had regained consciousness and assured me that there was no
need to worry about her.

She passed the entrance exam as the head of her class, and she had been helped a lot
by an upperclassman at the academy who tutored her in magic. They were quite
close by now, relying on each other.

The letter also conveyed that she would visit the Acates Temple during the summer
break and concluded there.

I was delighted to receive Liza’s letter, but after reading it, an odd emptiness
remained.

I felt a distance from Liza, unlike her usual affection towards me.

Reassuring myself that she was either busy or under strict family scrutiny and
control, I tried to shake off the unsettling feeling.

I wrote back immediately, but even as winter passed, and as I turned 16, and the
spring flowers faded, I received no follow-up letter.

It felt like an empty space had carved itself out in my chest.

I delved deeper into refining my metalworking skills to forget the void.

Summer arrived, and my craftsmanship had improved such that people began to
seek out my work. My income was modest, but sufficient to support myself.

One day, Sister Dolores stopped me on my way to the workshop.

“Liza will be briefly visiting during her semester break after finishing the first term.”

My heart fluttered at those words. Filled with anticipation, I looked forward to

seeing Liza.

The following day, I poured all my time into crafting a necklace for Liza.

The pendant was fashioned in the shape of an Elcantara flower, which was Liza’s
favorite.
I waited for time to pass quickly.

Then the eagerly anticipated day of Liza’s return arrived. I didn’t go to the workshop
and instead waited for her arrival.

From a distance, a stylish carriage approached the temple, and the welcoming nuns
and priests waved their hands. I stood a fair distance behind, quietly observing.

The carriage entered the temple garden, and the door opened. The first to step out
was a handsome man—tall, at least a head taller than me, dressed in refined
clothing, carrying the nobility in every gesture. Several nuns couldn’t help but
admire him as they gazed.

And holding that man’s hand, Liza stepped out.

Liza had transformed into a dazzling beauty. There was a fresh energy in her
movements and expressions. Her well-groomed hair, flawless features, and the silver
silk dress made her appear like a being from another realm.

Liza and the man greeted everyone with bright smiles, and the usually solemn
temple was abuzz with warmth, as if it were a festival.

Though it was the reunion I had been yearning for, I found myself unable to approach
her. Despite wearing the best clothes I had, which were nothing more than worn
workshop garments. And no matter how much I cleaned, black grease marks were
ingrained in my palms and nails.

Liza and the man did not let go of their intertwined hands even while busy with
greetings.

I felt rooted to the spot as if a weight had settled in my chest. Unable to even greet
her, I left the scene.

I walked away from the temple and out into the streets of the city. I wanted to run
away from everything.

At the town square, I sat by a fountain, fiddling with the necklace meant for Liza all
day. I just couldn’t muster the courage to face them.

Only after sunset did I return to the temple. It had been so long that all the lights
were out.

I saw a silhouette pacing alone in the garden. Seeing me, it quickly ran over.

It was Liza.

“You’re here. Where have you been? I thought I missed you.”

I had a sinking feeling upon seeing Liza. I avoided her gaze.

“…Hello.”

“I’m so relieved you look healthy,”

I consciously kept my distance.

“…Right. Who were you waiting for?”

“Obviously, for you. There’s something I urgently need to tell you. I’m also curious
about how you’ve been. Let’s take a walk and talk.”

We left the temple and headed to the path we had always walked together since we
were young. The moonlight gently illuminated the way.

Walking the path again, I felt an inexplicable distance between Liza and me. The Liza
of a year ago would have rushed to embrace me at first sight. The Liza now did not
hold my hand or ask to be embraced as she used to.

We caught up on each other’s lives.

“Is work going well at the workshop? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’ve come to be recognized in my own right and now I can sell items under my
own name.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“And you, Liza?”

“Everything’s good. I entered the Eternia Academy’s School of Magic. I got lucky and
topped the class this semester.”

“Congratulations.”

“…And while at school, I met someone I like.”

“……”

My heart sank heavily.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. If you’d been at the temple during
the day, you probably could have met him. It was unfortunate that I couldn’t
introduce you to Elliot.”

“……”

“I’ve been maintaining good feelings with Elliot all semester long, and recently we
decided to date.”

As I had seen them arrive not letting go of each other’s hands, I knew what was going
on. But I had been avoiding and denying this fact.

“He must be a good person then.”

“Yes. He came to the estate as a guest after I left the Loreille Hall. We got along
knowing he was from Eternia, and he stayed at the estate for a while, helping me
prepare for the entrance exam.”

“……”

“Elliot knew about the kind of man our uncle is and protected me. He’s the eldest son
of the Felton family, which prevents our uncle from meddling too much. Even being
able to visit like this is all thanks to him.”

Duke Darren Felton of the Felton family, currently the commander of the royal
knights, held a prestigious position. Elliot was the heir to a family of great power and
influence.

I discovered I was forever unattainable. Liza belonged to a different world than mine.
“I’m sorry for coming so abruptly and telling you weird things. But I had to say this.”

Liza’s wait till night was to clearly and cleanly redefine our relationship.

“…Can you tell me why?”

“Why what…?”

“Why your feelings changed.”

It was a pathetic question, but I needed to hear the answer. Understanding the
reasons makes it easier to accept eventually. My mother left without giving any
reasons, and that had been a source of long-standing pain for me.

“…Do you really need to hear it?”

“Yes, I need to.”

Liza pondered for a long while before speaking.

“Everything changed after that incident. It was my fault you nearly died. If I hadn’t
been so insistent on finding that star fragment, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“……”

“You did everything to protect me, but in the end, you nearly lost your life. Though it
was good fortune that made the wraith retreat, in a normal situation, we would both
have died.”

“That’s when I realized, if I’m just clinging to memories and feelings, I won’t move
forward, and it would only make us both suffer. I wondered what would have
happened if it had been Elliot there instead of you. Elliot would have been able to
fend off the wraith, stay with me through it all, and eventually find the star fragment.
He’s reliable and strong enough to do that.”

“……”

“More than anything, you can’t be by my side anymore, but Elliot can.”

“……”
“I’m sorry.”

It was all so painfully obvious.

I had been a fool. Deep down, part of me expected that Liza would sustain our love
against all odds. Ignoring the differences in status, physical distance, wealth, and
talent; holding on to feelings was impossible.

Anyone in Liza’s position would have made the same choice.

All I had more than that man was the memory of our past. Liza’s life was in bloom,
and her future stretched out before her. Better conditions, a better environment,
meeting better people, and having better experiences would eventually superimpose
over her childhood memories and attachments.

And for Liza, that was a good thing.

Though it hurt immensely, I could now accept it.

My role in Liza’s life had come to an end.

“I’m leaving at dawn tomorrow. After that, I can’t be sure when I’ll return. It might be
years before we see each other again. By then, you probably won’t be here either…”

“Yes.”

“Can you come to say goodbye at dawn?”

“…No.”

We could no longer share the same connection as before, yet we were childhood
friends who had spent a long time together. But I couldn’t manage a prepared
farewell. I didn’t want to blubber shamefully in the face of final departure.

Liza lowered her head. The moonlight was briefly obscured by clouds, darkening our
surroundings. I couldn’t see the expression on her face.

“…Alright. I should head back now. So this is goodbye here.”

“Yes… Take care, Liza.”

“You too. You must stay healthy. I hope we can meet again someday.”

“Likewise. Take care of yourself.”

Liza returned to the temple first. She must understand. I needed time alone to sort
out my feelings.

I remained alone and finished walking the pathway where young Liza and I used to
stroll. I then stopped by a pond lit by moonlight and sat upon the rock where Liza
and I used to linger.

I looked around. There wasn’t a spot that wasn’t imbued with memories of Liza.
There on the rock, I cried for hours on end.

My allotted time with Liza had come to an end. Ahead was a great wall I couldn’t
possibly scale.

The reason Liza and I had become so close was that we grew up in an orphanage, a
unique space where differences in abilities and status could be ignored. It was not
because I was special or because I was fated to be with Liza. It was simply good
fortune, and now that fortune had run its course.

From my pocket, I took out the necklace I had made for Liza. I remembered seeing a
necklace with a valuable jewel already around her neck. This necklace no longer held
any meaning.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I dropped the necklace into the pond.

My love ended just like that.

***

After parting with Liza, I focused on learning my trade. It was the only thing I could
do amidst my frustration.

One day, a jeweler who ran a large store showed interest in the accessories I made.

“Your craftsmanship doesn’t fall short of other artisans. Could you produce several
pieces a week for our store?”

Receiving recognition for my skills, I entered into a contract. Selling my work

gradually attracted more customers. Eventually, I was earning enough to live on my
own, and by the age of 16 that summer, I left Loreille Hall to become independent.

Unexpected encounters also occurred after my independence.

It was when I was delivering goods to the jewelry store. Inside, I saw a potbellied
nobleman and his wife, a couple, perusing the wares.

I froze solid at the sight of the couple. The potbellied nobleman and the woman
linked arm were my mother. It was the first time I saw her in eight years, but I
recognized her instantly. She looked just as I remembered. Yet, it seemed she had no
idea who I was.

My mother called out someone’s name outside the store. Then two children, looking
about six years old, ran into the shop. The couple hugged a child each, continuing to
browse the ornaments.

My mother had built a new life, a new family.

I watched them dazed for a while before leaving the place.

For some time, I sequestered myself away from people to compose my emotions. It
was a thing of the past, something I had accepted long ago. They were now people
with whom I had no connection.

What could I do? This was the life I was given.

Would I be able to face Liza calmly if I met her again after eight years? This question
lingered in my mind like an afterimage, unsettling my heart.

On days when I had some free time, I occasionally visited the Acates Temple. Other
orphans my age had also found their ways and left the temple. I would sit alone in
the empty chapel, contemplating the life and fate I had been given.

Everyone dreams of a grand and glorious life, but not everyone can have it. Not all
can become kings or commanders of knightly orders or great archmages or heroes.

Some must become nuns, others prostitutes. Some must pull carriages, and others
tend gardens. Some must work metal. For the world to run smoothly, some must be
tiny cogs, crushed by pressure yet meshing with the world despite it.

The goddess Acates had saved me twice. Once, when I was about to die of starvation
after losing my mother and she took me in, and the second time, when she saved me
when the wraith tore open my gut. Why did the goddess go through such trouble?
What did she want to use me for?

I couldn’t easily look upon my future with positivity.

Perhaps it was Liza who was chosen by the gods, and I was just disposable, merely a
decoration for her childhood.
Since my independence, I had rented a place a little distance from the workshop. The
floorboards creaked painfully when walked upon, the windows hardly opened, and
every night, the sounds of rodents scurrying along the ceiling filled the decrepit
house.

Laying in bed, I was too full of restless thoughts to fall asleep easily.

When sleep escaped me, thoughts of Liza would abruptly pop into my mind. What
classes was she taking, whom was she meeting? How was she adapting to Eternia
Academy, a gathering place for geniuses from all over the nation?

Then I’d steady myself and endeavor to erase Liza from my thoughts.

My metalwork skills improved by the day. The craftsman who taught me would see
my work, laugh wryly, and say, ‘Now, that’s enough, right?’ urging me on.

But I didn’t stop. I continued to stay late at the workshop alone, mastering new
crafting techniques.

***

It was midsummer, and the air was still quite warm even after the sun had set. I was
the only one left working in the workshop. I checked the calendar. A year had passed
since the day Liza and I had set out to find the star fragment. I let myself get lost in
memories of that time for a moment.

Suddenly, bright light poured in through the dark window. It was strange. I looked
out to scan the surroundings. The world was lit up as if the sun had risen anew.

Had I been so engrossed in my work that I hadn’t noticed dawn?

No, that was impossible. Too little time had passed. The clock in the workshop had
only just moved past midnight.

Perhaps a fire had broken out. I hurriedly gathered my belongings and left the
workshop.

Standing in the street, I observed the surroundings. There were no signs of blazing
flames or billowing black smoke anywhere. Only then did I realize that an intense
light from the heavens was illuminating the earth, and I lifted my gaze.
A massive meteor streaked across the sky. The meteor, trailing a long tail, emitted a
dazzling and brilliant light.

Astonished by the powerful and beautiful sight, my mouth dropped open.

The meteor surged across the northwestern sky and quickly disappeared.

Memories of setting out to find the star fragment with Liza flashed before my eyes.
As if the gravity of the Earth had pulled upon that celestial object, an indescribable
force seemed to yank me toward the meteor’s trajectory.

Almost as if possessed, I roamed the night streets, approaching the city guards,
prostitutes keeping the night watch, and the drunk patrons of taverns, asking them,

“Did you just see the meteor pass by?”

All of them treated me like a madman. I was the only one in this city who had
witnessed the meteor.

I couldn’t be sure if this was a divine revelation or if I had gone mad and seen
hallucinations. But having seen it, I could no longer return to my mundane daily life.

Like a man possessed, I ran home to pack some clothes. I grabbed whatever money I
had saved and a dagger I’d kept in case of thieves, and left.

Before dawn broke, I hurried out of the city, embarking on another adventure in
search of a meteor fragment. I may have been heading toward a futile death, but I
didn’t hesitate.

***

Silveryn submerged in the bathtub, idly flicking the foam with her fingertips, then
frowned. She turned to look out the window upon hearing the sound of hooves
approaching her manor.

Silveryn had been enjoying her leisure time and shook her head in frustration.

Soon after, she rose from the bathtub, hastily dried off her hair with a towel, and
slipped on a gown.
Exiting the bathroom, a maid awaited her.

“A messenger from the academy has delivered a few letters and left.”

“Why aren’t they using Stitch instead of a messenger?”

Stitch was a small spherical magical device with wings, widely used by mages as a
substitute for mail.

“The messenger said the headmaster didn’t use magical devices for matters of
importance.”

“Needlessly cautious… those oldsters.”

Glancing at the letters on the silver tray, Silveryn gestured for the maid to leave. After
a brief curtsey, the maid exited, and Silveryn picked up the letters, stepping out onto
the terrace. She crossed her legs in a comfortable chair, looking through the
correspondence.

There were five letters addressed to her. Three contained trivial greetings and
requests. She threw them onto the table without finishing them.

The remaining two were from the head of the Academy’s Department of Magic and a
letter from an apprentice who had graduated under her guidance.

Silveryn tore open the seal of the letter from the headmaster first.

It stated that she should prepare to return to the Academy for the upcoming
semester to manage the entrance exams and academic schedules.

It also contained a subtle pressure regarding the fact that she had never once used
the ‘recommendation’ system, a tradition among Eternia Academy’s professors.

Besides lecturing and researching, the professors of Eternia had another task:
uncovering hidden talents in the world.

This was an obligation based on the founding principles of Eternia Academy, set
forth by its founder, Bern Arnst. Bern Arnst had encountered countless geniuses who
grew up in dreadful conditions and turned into malevolents bringing ruin. To
prevent this, he established Eternia.
Hundreds of years later, the original meaning had faded somewhat, but Article 1,
Section 1 of Eternia’s founding ideology still stood firmly: “Draw the world’s talents
into the light.”

The ‘recommendation’ system allowed granting exceptional talents special

admission in line with Article 1, Section 1’s principle.

Silveryn never once unearthed a talent to lead to the Academy, even after becoming a
full professor.

Even Silveryn had entered Eternia through this ‘recommendation’ system, but she
harbored resentment toward it because some professors used it as a tool for ‘favors’
from nobles, seeking their safety and benefit.

“If there’s no one who meets my standards, what do they expect me to do?”

Tossing the headmaster’s letter onto the table, Silveryn picked up her apprentice’s
letter. The apprentice had become a research fellow under Silveryn’s guidance at the
magic association after graduation.

She found it somewhat curious that a magical seal, which could only be opened by
the recipient, was on it. Magical seals were only used for confidential information.

She broke the seal and reviewed the contents.

It reported a massive magical explosion had been detected near the Royn Basin, an
unexplored region near the Palanka Mountains in the northwest of the continent.

The Royn Basin was an area closely monitored by the association, also known as
‘death land,’ teeming with the so-called undead and beasts.

As Silveryn read on and reached the last sentence, she closed her eyes and held her
head up with her fingertips.

‘The location of occurrence suggests signs of a large-scale dark magic ritual are
possible.’

A headache seemed imminent.

The three letters of ‘dark magic’ meant her remaining vacation had all but flown
away.
It was still too early for the sun to set, and there seemed to be no issues on the
wagon road that cut across the grassland.

Nevertheless, the coachman brought the wagon to a halt.

“Beyond this point lies uncharted territory. I’ve heard all too often of coachmen who
met their doom trying to cross this frontier. I’ll go no further. Even if you offer me
more money, I cannot continue. I may look old and insignificant, but I know the value
of my life.”

I gathered my belongings and descended from the wagon.

“That will do. Take care on your way back.”

“Do you intend to continue?”

I nodded.

“I don’t know what pressing matters you have at such a young age, but I’ll pray that
the goddess Acates looks after you.”

“Thank you.”

“Beware, the uncharted land ahead is filled with ghouls. Hide yourself at night. Don’t
follow the blue lights you may see blindly—it’s the glow from ghouls; they emit light
from their backs to lure in people. That’s all I can tell you.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

I gave the coachman a polite nod and headed down the wagon road.

The further I went, the rougher and more overgrown the path became.
I was officially entering the land of savagery.

Every now and then, along the edges of the path, I came across wheel parts from
shattered wagons and the decomposed remains of horses as if an explosion had
occurred. The rotten flesh was hanging here and there on the wooden planks and
wheels.

I held my nose shut because of the swarms of flies and the stench.

Leaving the half-overgrown wagon path, I headed into the dense forest. I needed to
find a place to hide before the sun went down.

I moved along the edge where the forest met the grassland. During my traverse, I
found an old tree with exposed roots. Digging around the roots just under the trunk,
I unearthed a space big enough for a person to fit into. It seemed sufficient to hide
my body.

I had a simple dinner nearby. Then I erased any traces of my meal and crawled under
the roots. I blocked the entrance with dirt and stayed there for the night.

At dawn, I heard the dull, rambunctious footfalls of some four-legged creatures. It

wasn’t just one; it sounded like a dozen of them roaming together. Being below
ground allowed me to feel them more distinctly.

The howls of these quadrupeds did not match any wild animal in my memory. It was
the most grotesque and shuddering sound I had ever heard.

As dawn broke, I dug my way out and returned to the surface, then had my usual
breakfast of dry bread and jerky.

I questioned my own audacity to walk on two legs in a city with warm stews, only to
enter an unexplored land roamed by ghouls and corpses.

Perhaps having my belly ripped open before had caused me to lose all sense of fear.

Once again, I headed northwest into the uncharted wilderness where the star had
fallen.

***
“Ghouls are, in a way, mysterious beings.”

The children looked shocked at the words of the priest standing at the lectern. They
knew what ghouls were. ‘Mysterious? Those ghouls?’ they seemed to think. To the
children, the word ‘mysterious’ belonged to a world of dreams and innocent hearts.

“Ghouls were once people. Even those who lived exceedingly ordinary lives become
completely different entities upon transforming into ghouls after death. They
possess the same flesh, but spikes grow from their backs, their strength increases
four or five times more than in life, and thick fangs grow anew from their gums. All
human instincts and memories disappear, and they become monsters with a
ferocious hunger for living beings.”

One child raised a hand high.

The priest gestured for the child to speak, and they quickly asked their question.

“Why does that happen?”

“Hmm… Ghouls are relatively common monsters, yet we still don’t know why. Some
scholars claim death is part of an evolutionary process, while others call it a curse
that robs rest. There’s a wide range of opinions.”

Upon hearing this, one child yelled out.

“I don’t want to become a ghoul.”

The priest laughed and said,

“Then you simply have to die in a fire.”

I drew a deep breath.

“Ugh!”

It was a dream.

A dream with an unpleasant aftertaste. It brought back memories of attending

lessons at Loreille Hall during my childhood. However, that horrific phrase about
dying in a fire was not part of my memories.
I had been camping in the uncharted land for nearly four days. Perhaps due to the
ominous atmosphere, the frequency of strange dreams increased. I took several deep
breaths to calm my racing heart.

Carefully, I brushed the leaves covering my upper body to the side.

Dawn was just breaking. To be cautious, I held my breath and listened for any sign of
movement around me.

After about five minutes with no discernible sounds, I finished removing the leaves
and got up. I tidied up the area and packed my belongings.

Traces of ghouls surrounded the spot I had slept in. I swallowed hard. If I had talked
in my sleep while the ghouls passed, I would have been dead.

I realized I needed to be more careful when choosing a place to sleep.

I set off once more.

After crossing the wooded area, I was greeted by a vast expanse of wasteland. This
was not good. I needed to traverse this place, but its vastness made it difficult to hide
at night. There was also no suitable spot to draw water.

I had no choice but to increase my pace.

I walked continuously until noon.

Checking my water flask, about half of it remained. I couldn’t know how much
further I needed to go.

The ground grew hot under the sun, and as the heat haze rose, I took a brief rest in
the shadow beside a rock.

The time passed noon, and a couple of hours later, clouds began to gather. If it rained,
I had nowhere to shelter. I quickened my pace.

The clouds obscured the sunlight, making it progressively darker, and raindrops
began to fall.

I noticed something moving in the distance. Rubbing my eyes, I focused on it.

It was a ghoul. As the sunlight disappeared, ghouls began emerging from their
burrows. I had thought ghouls only moved at night, but that was merely my
assumption. The ghouls, free of sunlight, were crawling out.

Judging by the movement of the clouds, this was no mere passing shower.

I broke into a sprint. My goal was to reach a small hill ahead and disappear from the
ghouls’ sight.

But then, the sound of ghoul howls came from another direction. It seemed there
wasn’t only one den of ghouls. Moreover, it was uncomfortably close this time.

The ghouls howled loudly and began to pursue me.

I raced to the crest of the hill. Soon a small hut came into view below. There was no
other place to take cover. I sprinted at full speed towards the hut.

About a dozen ghouls were hot on my heels.

I burst into the hut and secured the door fastener. The ghouls that were trailing me
started to body slam into the door. I surveyed the hut interior. It appeared to be used
for storage.

But the items stored there were odd. Torches soaked in oil, coal, gunpowder, and oil
drums were all lined up.

A ghoul hand broke through the door. The ghouls outside were fiercely trying to tear
it down in an attempt to get to me.

“Damn it, damn it.”

That’s when it happened—a scene from the dream flashed across my mind.

‘Then you simply have to die in a fire.’

I immediately pulled out a flint. Grabbing a torch, I struck it alight.

As the door gave way entirely, a ghoul invaded the hut.

I threatened it with the blazing torch.

It worked. The ghouls recoiled, screeching in terror at the sight of the fire.

Wielding the torch, I stepped towards the doorway.

Damnit.

Dozens of ghouls had quickly encircled the hut. They stood a few steps away,
drooling as they looked at me.

The occasional raindrop grew into a steady shower.

“No… No!”

The torch didn’t go out immediately, but it was weakening. I hurriedly lit another
torch. To make matters worse, the neglected hut started to slowly soak the torches
and coal as rainwater seeped through the roof.

I wouldn’t be able to survive the night in this condition.

The ghouls swiped at my torch, trying to knock it down, or they stalked their
grounds, awaiting an opportunity to pounce.

With one arm, I held a bunch of torches against my side, shielded them with my
cloak to keep off the rain, and sprinted out of the hut. The ghouls had already begun
to breach the back of the hut.

“Damn it.”

There was no clear way out.

That was when it happened.

Whoom

A muffled shockwave sounded from beyond the northwestern hill. Immediately after,
a white pillar of light soared into the heavens from where the noise came. This sight
unsettled the ghouls.

I didn’t know what the light was, but I had no other option. I ran directly towards the
pillar of light.
The ghouls maintained their encirclement without attacking me due to the torch, but
they continued to follow, keeping the ring tight. Their running speed far surpassed
mine, making an escape impossible.

I climbed atop the hill’s ridge and looked towards the source of the light.

“What is that?”

Beyond was a vast crater, and at its center lay a large meteorite, partially buried.

“…!”

And in that rock, a sword emitting a blue light was embedded. A column of intense
light surrounding the sword pierced the sky.

“…Is that a sword?”

I ran with all my might towards the crater’s center.

The ghouls no longer clung close, seemingly wary of the light emanating from the
sword.

In no time, the few dozen ghouls had multiplied into hundreds in the commotion.
Within the crater, they were somewhat more cautious in their movements. Like
predators stalking prey while keeping low and silent, the ghouls circled me slowly.

Ghouls began to densely fill the crater from all directions.

My heart felt like it would burst.

I reached the center of the crater. As I approached the sword, the pillar of light
trembled even more.

I was close enough to touch the sword if I reached out my hand.

There was no other option for me.

I swallowed hard and pushed my hand into the pillar of light. Then I gripped the
handle of the sword and pulled it out.
It did not have the typical heaviness of metal. Its shape resembled a long and thin
longsword, but it had no weight to it. Despite seeming like something that should
require two hands to wield, it felt effortless to hold it with just one hand.

Holding the sword, I examined it. I couldn’t believe it. The sword was made entirely
of light, from the blade to the handle.

As I grasped the sword, the pillar of light that had reached up to the sky gradually
diminished.

Several ghouls that surrounded me roared fiercely. Soon, like wolves, the rest of the
ghouls followed suit in a cacophony of howls.

As the pillar of light vanished, the ghouls closed in their encirclement. I had no time
to admire the mysterious beauty of the sword. I clenched my jaw and took up a
defensive stance. A standoff persisted for a while with the encircling ghouls.

Suddenly, one drooling beast from the front launched itself at me.

Reflexively, I swung the sword at the body of the ghoul.

Thwack!

Accompanied by the sound of flesh being cleaved, the ghoul was cleanly bisected
from its torso and collapsed onto the ground.

“What is this…?”

When I cut the ghoul, I felt no resistance. It was as if I had swiped through air, yet the
ghoul’s tough bones and flesh were severed in two. The cutting power was
staggering.

Another ghoul leaped at me. I swung the sword in a wide arc.

Whoom!

A white shockwave followed the path of my sword stroke. The impact wave
obliterated not only the oncoming ghoul but all other ghouls in its path.

“What? How did I do that?”

A ghoul stomped on the ground behind me.

I immediately turned and swung the sword in another direction.

Once again, the shockwave swept away everything in its path.

The power left my mouth agape. However, every time I unleashed a shockwave, my
vitality rapidly drained.

The ghouls started to throw themselves at me more frequently, seemingly wary of

the light, primarily aiming for the back where the sword was less visible.

“Damn it.”

I kept swinging the sword purely on reflex, but this was hardly enough to fend off the
increasing number of ghouls.

There was another problem.

The longer I held the sword, the blurrier my vision became and dizziness set in.

The sword was consuming my mental energy. As I grew accustomed to the sword, I
became certain of it.

I sliced through another ghoul aiming for me and staggered significantly.

“…Damn it.”

Seizing the opportunity, three ghouls simultaneously lunged at me. I stepped back,
dodged one, and simultaneously decapitated the heads of the two others.

Then, I regained my posture and thrust the sword into the back of the remaining one.

Rotten blood burst from the ghoul’s back.

Even a slight movement consumed a tremendous amount of energy. It felt as though

all blood had drained from my head, leaving me staggeringly dizzy. The mental
exhaustion made me nauseous. To regain my composure, I violently shook my head.

The light emanating from the sword was gradually fading. It seemed to react to my
mental energy. Less than five minutes had passed since I gripped the sword, and I
was near fainting.

“Just a little longer. Just a bit more…”

Taking advantage of my lack of focus, a ghoul leaped forward and slashed at my side
with its nails.

A terrible pain assaulted me, as if my flesh was being indiscriminately ripped apart.

Gritting my teeth, I thrust the sword into the mouth of the ghoul that had attacked
me.

With my left hand, I clutched my side. Blood oozed out.

The blood loss made me feel like I would pass out immediately.

That’s when it happened.

Kaboom!

An explosion thundered from a corner of the crater. Surprised, I instinctively

crouched. The blast caused my ears to ring with deafness.

The ghouls’ attention shifted exclusively to the explosion.

I turned towards the direction of the explosion.

At the site of the blast, flames in the size of a house burned crimson and black smoke
billowed up. Ghouls lay in pieces around it, victims of the blast’s force.

And within the flames, a humanoid silhouette quivered.

Was I seeing an illusion?

I closed my eyes tightly and then reopened them. It was not an illusion. As the flames
gradually died down, the silhouette became clearer. A figure slowly walked out of the
smoke.

As the wind dispersed the smoke, a woman emerged.

With a tall, conical hat and auburn hair that reached her waist, her striking
appearance was accentuated by a black dress with one thigh fully exposed.

A small sphere of flame floated above her hand.

The woman flung the sphere casually to the side.

A strong gust blew where the sphere fell, and in an instant, a fiery red whirlwind
erupted.

She walked slowly forward and waved her hand.

Then a massive whirlwind of fire roared across the crater, carrying away the ghouls
with a deafening noise.

The swarm of ghouls, once numerous as ants, was plunged into complete disarray.

For the first time in my life, I witnessed a scene of such overwhelming magnitude,
like a natural disaster unfolding. It was hard to believe that this transcendent power
was coming from a single person.

Whatever the reason may be, for now, I had survived.

My legs gave way, and I collapsed right then and there. The sword in my grasp was
losing its light, becoming ever more dim. I could no longer maintain consciousness.

I lost my senses and my head struck the dirt floor.

The stench of charred corpses filled the air from all sides. The rain had somewhat
dampened the flames. Silveryn frowned as she watched a severed ghoul’s arm still
twitching on the ground.

Silveryn surveyed her surroundings, organizing the situation in her mind.

The remaining ghouls had fled, and it seemed they wouldn’t return for a while. It was
a relief that this didn’t involve black magic.

Silveryn approached the boy lying on the ground.

She grabbed the scruff of the boy’s neck and dragged him to one side. Then she
propped him up against the large meteorite with his back resting on it.

The unconscious boy’s head drooped lifelessly down. She pushed his chin up with
her fingertips to examine his face.

He was young.

A matted tangle of hair. Fine complexion that suggested he had just passed puberty.
Incomplete features intermittently hinted at a handsome appearance. She checked
his forearms and palms. His right arm had a decent amount of muscle, and his palms
bore calluses.

Had he learned the sword?

It was bewildering that at such a young age, the boy had fought ghouls in the land of
death, wielding a mysterious sword.

What had drawn the boy to this unexplored Land of Death? How did he come to
know of this place?

And what, exactly, was the sword he had wielded?

Silveryn’s gaze shifted to the meteorite that half-buried in the ground, supporting the
boy’s back.

In its center was a deep hole, as if something had been embedded there.

A glint sparked in Silveryn’s eyes.

Even for Silveryn, who had been through every imaginable predicament, this
situation was particularly bewildering.

She recalled a legend inscribed on a scroll stored in Enmion’s Great Library, the
repository of elf knowledge.

The chosen one. The sword of light stuck in a meteorite. The man beloved by the
gods.

And like a figure straight out of that legend, there sat the boy before her.

How was she supposed to interpret this?

Before jumping to conclusions, there was something she needed to verify first.

When she removed her hand from his chin, the boy’s head flopped forward again.

Silveryn stood up and stepped back from the boy, then she took out a water flask and
sprinkled some water on him.

When there was no response, she poured the rest of the water liberally over the
boy’s head. Afterwards, she threw the now-empty flask at the boy’s head.

With a dull thud, Silveryn said,

“Get up.”

Only then did the boy shudder his head.

“Eh, what?”

Regaining consciousness, the boy shook his head and looked up. He was still groggy,
his eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he stared at Silveryn.
Silveryn placed her hands on her hips and scrutinized the boy.

“What are you?”

“…?”

“How did you come to know of this place?”

The boy squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, apparently unable to
distinguish between dream and reality.

He hesitated, eyes rolling, then spoke.

“I saw a star falling.”

Silveryn looked at the boy sternly, without any sign of movement, prompting him to
add another sentence.

“I followed it here…”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

The boy nodded as if it were obvious.

It was impossible to precisely locate this place just by following the trajectory of a
star.

“Can you use magic or detect mana?”

“Not at all.”

Silveryn was momentarily at a loss for words at the boy’s candidness.

She had encountered those claiming to have received divine revelations before.
Those called saints and apostles, the odd bunch. They accomplished reckless feats
with nothing but unfounded self-confidence.

And in this boy, she faintly saw an echo of those ‘chosen ones.’

“Alright, let’s say that’s true. To whom do you belong?”

“Until coming here, I trained in metalworking at a forge in Haman.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Where did you learn to use a sword?”

“I’ve never learned swordplay.”

It was an absurd answer.

Judging by the fact he had crawled into the land of death on his own, one might think
he had at least learned swordsmanship, but metalworking?

“What about your family?”

“……”

The boy, who had maintained his composure, had a momentary flicker in his eyes.

Silveryn didn’t miss his slight reaction.

“Do you not have a family?”

The boy silently nodded in response.

The word ‘family’ seemed to strike an emotional vulnerability in him.

Puzzle pieces in Silveryn’s mind began to fit together more clearly.

Had he had someone to love, someone who genuinely cared for and directed his life,
he would not have done something as insane as chase a star fragment into the land
of death.

She now understood the boy’s thoughtless recklessness.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Um… good.”

The boy tilted his head in confusion at Silveryn’s ambiguous affirmation.

“Can you show me the sword you were using?”

“…”

“Don’t worry, I have no intention of taking it. Besides, it might not even be possible
for me to take it.”

“After I pulled it out of the meteorite and swung it, I lost consciousness, and the
sword disappeared.”

“Call it out.”

“I don’t really know how.”

“It’s your sword since you held and swung it. If it didn’t accept you as its master, it
wouldn’t have let you hold it in the first place.”

“……”

After hearing her words, the boy became contemplative for a moment.

Then, the boy raised his hands to shoulder height and closed his eyes. Soon, a sword
of pure white light appeared above the palm of his hands.

‘Did he grasp the sensation immediately after my advice?’

The more powerful the sword, the more the wielder’s state of mind, rather than
physical strength, affects their ability to handle the sword.

A faint smile curled the corner of Silveryn’s lips.

“You’re a quick learner.”

When she touched the blade, her fingers went straight through it without sensation.
Silveryn couldn’t touch the sword.

“Hmm…”

She didn’t show it, but it was a fresh shock for Silveryn. She had encountered
numerous swordmasters and even traveled with those who had reached the realm of
the sword spirit. Among the famous swords throughout history that they wielded,
she had never seen one with such characteristics—only heard of them in legends.

And the owner of this absurd sword was a 16-year-old boy.

Moreover, it seemed the boy had little awareness of the absurdity of what he
possessed.

The problem was that many rogues across the continent would covet such a
renowned sword, and the boy did not seem to have the strength to protect himself.

The boy was too vulnerably situated for a premature death; it was something Bern
Arnst, the founder of Eternia, would have lamented.

“You’ve shown me enough. You can put it away now.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the sword vanished.

“So you belong to… no one, right?”

With a reluctant expression, the boy nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“Damian.”

“Where will you go back to?”

“I’ll go back to Haman where I was working at the forge.”

Silveryn averted her gaze and answered half-heartedly.

“Haman, you say… Yes, it’s a quiet and peaceful place.”

“……?”

Numerous thoughts crossed Silveryn’s mind in an instant. Internally conflicted, she

chewed on her lip.

‘Am I supposed to just send him back home?’

“Your wounds look severe.”

Silveryn pulled a small leather pouch from her waist and took out a bottle of purple
liquid – a potion. She extended the bottle towards the boy as if to give it to him,
paused to consider, then tucked it back into her bag.

“What could you give me if I save your life?”

“All I have is that sword and a little money I’ve saved up from my work.”

“So all that’s left is your body.”

At the mention of ‘body’, Damian’s frame tensed instantly.

“……”

“Do you like being around people?”

“……no.”

“It would be good for you to get used to it.”

Damian rolled Silveryn’s meaningful words around in his mind. He licked his dry lips,
considering the situation had taken an unfavorable turn.

He seemed to be under the delusion that Silveryn placed a high value on him,
mistaking her for wanting to secure some leverage like debt, rank, or a powerful
backing.

In reality, it was quite the opposite.

The fewer ties and affiliations the boy had — such as connections or an organization
— the better it was for Silveryn.

Silveryn pulled out a piece of parchment from her pocket. She spread it wide and
recited a spell. Shortly after, the parchment began to singe slightly and characters
were etched onto it.

She handed the parchment to Damian. The content was inscribed in ancient script
which the boy could not decipher.
“Sign it.”

Damian took the parchment and was momentarily lost in thought.

‘Yes, all sorts of thoughts must be passing through his head.’

Silveryn was well aware that Damian had no other choice.

If Silveryn abandoned Damian here, his life would inevitably end.

As Damian procrastinated with the parchment, Silveryn sighed and said,

“Don’t worry. If I had ill intentions, I wouldn’t have bothered with this piece of paper;
I could have made you a puppet anyway.”

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t an invoice. It was more akin to a contract agreeing to
protect and nurture the boy.

“I don’t have any ink to use for…”

Silveryn cast a glance at Damian’s side where blood was still oozing.

“Ah.”

He pressed his index finger into the blood-soaked hem of his shirt and then hastily
scribbled his name at the bottom of the parchment.

Silveryn took back the parchment and, biting the flesh of her own index finger,
signed beside his name with her blood.

She whistled sharply. A spherical object with rapid wingbeats like a bee darted from
the sky towards her.

She clipped the parchment to the leg of the object. In the blink of an eye, the sphere
had flown off somewhere.

Only then did Silveryn retrieve a potion from her bag and tossed it to Damian.

“Spray it on your wound. If you keep giving off the smell of blood, the ghouls will
gather again.”
Damian seemed concerned about what the parchment stated.

“What did I sign?”

“A binding contract.”

“What kind of bond?”

“The bond between a master and an apprentice.”

The boy’s eyes widened like those of a rabbit.

Seemingly anxious that it could be snatched away, he quickly doused the potion on
his wound and said,

“Why?”

His demeanor became decidedly serious.

“It’s rare for someone your age to slash through ghouls like that.”

Damian shook his head.

“That’s not my own power.”

‘Oh?’

She had seen numerous children Damian’s age. Those at this stage of life often
become arrogant and intoxicated with powers easily obtained through their heritage
or magical artifacts.

In a situation like this, one could easily become intoxicated with the feeling of being
chosen, yet Damian firmly kept his distance.

Silveryn swallowed a satisfied smile internally.

Impressive. The boy knew his limits. Yet, he followed the revelation with nothing but
his bare body, braving all the dangers of this land of the dead. It was unusual to find
someone with such a character. He was fundamentally different from the children
raised delicately in noble families.
Damian did not easily let down his guard against her.

“But who exactly are you to take me as an apprentice?”

Silveryn ran her fingers through her wind-tossed hair and gathered it to one
shoulder, allowing it to drape over her chest as she spoke.

“Let’s see.”

Silveryn thought about what grandiose titles she could use to describe herself.

People had attributed many titles to her, but none she particularly liked. Some were
too embarrassing to announce with her own mouth.

In a way, Damian’s caution made sense. After all, nothing was more suspicious than a
person offering kindness without any apparent reason.

In Silveryn’s mind, there was no other choice. There was indeed one word that could
assure everyone of her abilities and trustworthiness.

“Ever heard of Eternia Academy?”

Upon Silveryn’s sudden question, Damian stiffened as if turned to stone.

Eternia Academy magic department professor.

When it comes to Eternia, there’s a saying that comes to the tip of one’s tongue.

I suppressed the urge to ask about news of Liza. Whether she was doing well or not,
hearing about it would only trouble my mind.

Silveryn stared intently at my face and asked.

“Why that look?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“…Isn’t it the middle of the semester in Eternia?”

It should take at least a fortnight to get from Eternia to here.

For a professor, who should be busy, this place was far too distant to come and go.

“Right. I’m on a break for about a year due to certain circumstances.”

“When will you return to your position?”

“Next semester.”

Then the likelihood was high that she didn’t know Liza, who would now be in her
first year’s second semester.

“Does this bond between master and apprentice mean you intend to take me to the
academy?”
“That would be for your safety. I can’t look after you for a lifetime.”

“Safety…?”

Silveryn looked at me as if asking why I would question something so obvious.

“I’m talking about your sword.”

“…?”

Silveryn sighed deeply and said,

“Your sword is too dangerous. Not a threat to others, but to yourself. If word of your
sword gets out, expect plenty to come after it. Don’t expect them to honor any
chivalry and challenge you to a duel. Most will act crazily using any means necessary.
Right now, you’re in the perfect position to get killed.”

My sword puts my own life in danger?

It felt like a blow to the back of my head. Having never possessed power in my life, I
had not the slightest idea of the ripple effects it could cause. I lived my life in a safe
city, forgetting how many perils lay beyond its confines.

“…”

“At the very least, I should train you to look after yourself. The academy is a
conversation for later.”

“Understood.”

There was no reason to refuse being taught.

“What was your plan after finding the fragment of the star?”

“I intended to go back to Haman, where the forge is.”

“Forget and let it go now. Don’t even send a letter. Go back only when you think you
can protect everyone who knows you in Haman with your own hands. Otherwise,
they will all end up as hostages just to draw you out.”
Her words meant giving up my identity and starting a new life. It was a farewell to
Haman of my childhood memories for a long time. My heart grew heavier.

“Yes.”

“And that sword. Don’t draw it out unless you’re on the brink of death.”

I nodded.

“All set then? Let’s go. The ghouls will be gathering again soon.”

Silveryn whistled with her fingers in her mouth, and a horse galloped over from
beyond the crater. The horse halted in front of us and snorted. The crater strewn
with ghoul corpses seemed to unsettle it.

Silveryn stroked the horse to calm it.

“Hop on.”

“One moment.”

I grabbed my backpack and headed toward the meteorite. Seeing this, Silveryn
remarked.

“Surely you’re not looking for Venemaril?”

“What?”

“The herb mentioned in the book of the great sage Lutavis.”

Silveryn also seemed to know about the herb said to grant the ability to see the
future.

“Not every meteorite carries seeds of Venemaril. That’s just a plain old meteorite, so
don’t get your hopes up too much.”

“Then, may I scrape off some meteoric iron?”

A story I had heard from the metalworking master who taught me. Meteoric iron
wasn’t popular among humans since it hadn’t been much researched, but dwarves
considered it more precious than gold. Though trade with dwarves had been cut off
for hundreds of years, making sale practically impossible, I wanted to gather some
while I had the chance since it was so hard to come by.

“Fine. But don’t take too long.”

Extracting directly from the meteorite was a bit too ambitious given the tools I had,
but luckily, there were many fist-sized shards of meteoric iron scattered around due
to the impact. I picked out the usable pieces and filled my bag.

I quickly gathered enough meteoric iron to forge several ingots.

Silveryn took the bag filled with meteoric iron, secured it to the back of the saddle,
and said,

“Get on.”

I climbed onto the horse, and soon after, Silveryn also mounted behind me.

I wasn’t particularly short for my age group, but because Silveryn had the stature of
an adult male, once she took the reins, I was practically engulfed in her embrace.

I tensed up, and sensing something amiss, Silveryn remarked,

“What are you doing? Relax.”

“Can’t… I just walk?”

“Just get left behind then.”

“…”

As she shook the reins, the horse started walking. Silveryn’s body swayed with the
movement, and feeling the fleshy pressure against my shoulders, I closed my eyes
tight.

***

Dunkel laid out each received document on his office table.

These were ‘recommendation letters’ from those with recognized qualifications such
as honorary professors, valedictorians from the academy, and chairs of the magic
council. Notated with them were details about the prospective students. These
analyses from the most authoritative figures in their fields were almost certainly not
exaggerated.

The dean, Dunkel, scanned the documents with a pleased smile. There were many
recommended candidates for the new semester like a fruitful harvest, each notable
for their distinct talents and personalities.

Especially standing out was the prospect, Azelis, considered a once-in-a-millennium

talent and an incarnation of a goddess.

Sion, a disciple of the sword master who subdued the Zaiyon continent.

Cecil, a genius enchanter rumored to transform ordinary stones into magic crystals.

Luna, an elementalist blessed by the Spirit King.

And Gale, a weapon master, the son of Baroness Varianne who defended the empire’s
northernmost frontiers, having credited multiple subjugations of demonic beasts at
a young age.

These were the five.

Most of those commended in the recommendation letters were widely known from a
young age for their names and abilities, so there was hardly any need to scrutinize
the documents closely.

Thud thud thud

As Dunkel contentedly stroked his beard, an uninvited barrage of thumps made him
wince.

Thud thud thud

At his office window, a Stitch was noisily hammering against the pane.

It was Silveryn’s Stitch. Nothing else flew like that unless it was hers.
As Dunkel raised the window, the Stitch made a gusty entrance, scattering the papers
and knocking a pen holder from the desk to the floor before calming down.

With a slight sigh and eyes squeezed shut, Dunkel muttered.

There was a mailbox designated for Stitches, but Silveryn always set this one to
wreak havoc in his office, ensuring it demolished something every time.

It was her way of insisting her letters be read before all others.

Conversely, Dunkel’s Stitches were set to fly into Silveryn’s fireplace at her estate,
which was designed as their mailbox, straight into the flames.

Dunkel recalled the time he first brought Silveryn to the academy and shook his
head.

“I shouldn’t have accepted that wretched kid. My foolishness.”

There was a letter gripped in the Stitch’s leg.

As Dunkel snatched the letter, the Stitch took off flapping noisily through the
window.

“……”

He couldn’t dismiss such an unruly disciple purely because of her sheer aptitude. She
was lazy and disdainful of others, but in her assigned tasks, she outperformed
anyone else.

He took a couple of deep breaths and unfolded the letter.

It was Silveryn’s recommendation letter.

“Hmm.”

And it was written in the ancient script.

Despite the somewhat reckless nature of this communication, there was room for
leniency. This was her first use of her recommendation rights since obtaining the
authority.
The expression on Dunkel’s face became complex as he read Silveryn’s
recommendation letter.

The recommendation written in ancient script was no ordinary one.

When suggesting a student whose potential could influence the survival of a nation
or a group, or if revealing their abilities could bring significant threats to the child or
the academy, it was customary to use the ancient script for security reasons.

Furthermore, upon such admission, the student’s abilities and original identity were
kept a secret, known only to the dean and a few professors, and to avoid drawing
attention, their grades were always recorded as mid-tier, even if they were top of the
class.

And for that student, a ‘Masters’ Class’ would be conducted for focused development
of special abilities.

However, the Masters’ Class was a special program that required significant academy
resources, so the eligibility criteria were quite stringent.

Even in Eternia, where the geniuses of the entire continent gathered, there were very
few who met the requirements for the Masters’ Class. There was not a single one in
the current third or fourth years. In the second year was Amy Fontar, and in the first
year, only Liza Pascal.

Discussions for the prospective saint, Azelis, to enter the Masters’ Class were also in
full swing with the council for the next semester.

The Masters’ Class wasn’t something granted just because Silveryn requested it.

No matter how exceptional a wizard Silveryn was or the tremendous influence she
wielded, this matter required several internal reviews within the academy.

Moreover, Silveryn had a strong rebellious streak and a history of ignoring academy
procedures and traditions when it suited her, necessitating stringent verification.

Dunkel wrote a summoning message on parchment and sent it via Stitch.

Shortly after, someone knocked on the office door and entered.

A woman with long hair tightly bound and impressive sleek muscles stood glistening
with sweat, apparently just after training.

“Dean, you called for me?”

It was Gael, Silveryn’s academy classmate and rival. Now Silveryn was far ahead, and
Gael had accepted being inferior, but her competitive spirit flared up whenever it
came to matters involving Silveryn.

Gael, always straightforward and a stickler for the rules, would objectively assess the
child Silveryn had chosen better than anyone.

Dunkel gestured to an office chair and said,

“Take a seat.”

Gael flopped down and took in the disarray, saying,

“Silveryn again?”

Dunkel nodded and said,

“This time it’s a bit special. Silveryn has requested the Masters’ Class in her
recommendation.”

Gael’s eyes widened with intrigued,

“That Silveryn?”

Dunkel nodded nonchalantly once more.

“I’d like you to vet Silveryn’s child as an examiner.”

Gael shook her head.

“If it’s a student chosen by Silveryn, they must be magical talents. As a combat
instructor, I’m not the right person for such assessments.”

“Silveryn’s recommendation states that the child wields a sword.”

At the mention of a sword, Gael’s gaze turned meaningful.

“…Understood.”

“It’s a mission that will take quite some time. Clear your schedule for next month. I’ll
sort out your necessary duties. Seek support if needed.”

“Understood. And Dean…”

“Speak up.”

“May I bring my own apprentice for the review?”

Dunkel detected Gael’s competitive fire reigniting and his lips faintly curled into a
smile.

“You can, as long as you don’t disclose that it’s for the Masters’ Class.”

“…Thank you.”

With Dunkel’s nod, Gael stood.

“Then, I’ll take my leave.”

We headed toward the Weisel region. Silveryn had said that her estate was located in
Weisel.

From time to time, Silveryn boasted about how peaceful and beautiful Weisel was.

According to her, Weisel boasted clear valley streams formed from melting glaciers
enveloped by perennial snow, and fields abundant with flowers.

The forests were rich with rare herbs, and the beasts, scarce throughout the vast
area, were limited to maybe one or two sightings a year. Even those were mostly
from other regions.

Having left the unexplored territories behind, we spent a night at an inn in a small
village.

Over dinner, we settled on what to call each other. She said ‘professor’ or ‘master’
was too stiff and preferred to be called ‘teacher’.

That night, I shared with Silveryn a peculiar feeling I had when searching for the
fragment of the star.

As I talked about the dream related to the ghouls and the cabin that appeared at a
crucial moment, Silveryn listened intently with a serious expression.

“That area used to be the site of a beacon tower and observatory. It was quite
splendid, though abandoned, and all destroyed with the meteorite.”

Silveryn advised me to write down any significant dreams just in case. She didn’t
explain why I should do that.

The next day, after lunch, we embarked on our journey once again.

***
A week later, when we entered the Weisel region, the tension eased considerably.
The anxiety about sudden beast attacks lessened, and above all, the mild weather
and natural beauty contributed greatly.

Upon arriving at Silveryn’s grand estate, my eyes widened in awe. It could’ve been
mistaken for a palace.

“A vampire used to live in this mansion about a hundred years ago.”

Silveryn seemed proud of this fact.

Memories of childhood tales about vampires breeding humans like pigs suddenly
surfaced.

“Not exactly a pleasant thing to mention.”

At my response, Silveryn chuckled.

“If there’s a chance, I’ll show you the secret dungeons below.”

“……”

A joke, right? It’s hard to imagine there’s a dungeon beneath this fairy tale-like
beautiful estate.

Butlers and maids came out to greet us as we reached the mansion. From the grand
estate to the maids, everything was unfamiliar to me. I had never once experienced
such affluent living conditions.

Silveryn dismounted and stretched elaborately. Following her, I got off the horse and
took in the view of the estate.

Silveryn introduced me to the butler.

“This is my apprentice. He’ll be staying here for a while, so prepare a room for him.
And check his side — there’s a scar. Take care of him and provide him with whatever
he needs.”

The butler greeted me with respectful politeness.

“I am the head butler, Ezra. Feel free to call me by my name.”

The word ‘head’ butler made my head spin. That means there are more butlers
under him. Ezra was a middle-aged man. There was a significant age gap, and I had
never had the experience of having people under me.

I responded with a polite greeting as well.

“I’m Damian.”

Silveryn had already passed us, climbing up the mansion’s pristine white front steps.

Without looking back, she ordered,

“Get everything done before dinner!”

She then disappeared into the residence.

Despite Silveryn’s sharp command, the head butler and maids wore relaxed smiles
on their faces.

Their expressions as they welcomed me were incredibly gentle. This was a type of
warmth that couldn’t be feigned — a genuine enjoyment of receiving guests.

Curiosity prompted me to ask the head butler a question.

“…Do you often have visitors like me?”

“Miss Silveryn doesn’t care for visitors in general. Bringing a guest personally like
this, it’s been a very long time.”

I could somewhat understand why they were so delighted to welcome a guest.

Head butler Ezra gestured for me to follow him into the mansion.

“Let me show you.”

The head butler led me up the central hall staircase to a second-floor room.

“This will be the room for Damian sir.”

The room seemed about five times larger than the one I had stayed in back at Loreil
Manor. A white bed, big enough for three people to lie side by side, and a sunlit
balcony were immediately noticeable.

While I hesitated in awe, the maids quickly brought in my belongings and the clothes
I would be wearing, organizing everything into storage efficiently.

Behind me, a maid with a silver tray full of potion bottles spoke up.

“May I check your scar?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

The maid guided me to an armchair in the corner of the room. As I took a seat, she
instructed,

“Please remove your shirt.”

I took off my shirt, and the maid inspected my upper body closely. She tilted her head
curiously at the odd scars on my abdomen, marks left by the wraith’s hand.

My side looked especially grotesque due to the hasty potion healing.

The maid sprayed a clear liquid onto gauze and dabbed it on my wound area,
identifiable by the distinctive biting scent of medicinal herbs. It was an anesthetic.

“It’s going to be quite hot.”

Soon after, she placed drops from a vial of green liquid onto the anesthetized area
with a dropper.

A burning scent filled the air, followed by the scorching pain of skin seared by fire.

“Ah!”

A groan involuntarily escaped me. Then, without missing a spot, the maid applied a
recovery potion over the entire area of injury.

Finally, she expertly wrapped my abdomen in bandages and said,

“You can unwrap the bandage in the morning. However, no bathing until then.”

That’s unfortunate. The one thing I had most wanted to do upon arriving at
Silveryn’s estate was to take a bath.

As if aware of my predicament, the maids soon came in with steaming buckets of

water along with washcloths, apparently intending to clean me since I couldn’t
bathe.

They tried to undress me, treating me like some child. My face flush with heat, I
pushed their hands away and insisted,

“I can do it myself. Please leave.”

Only then did the maids stop and stepped back. After exchanging looks, they said,

“We’ll come again at mealtime.”

After all the maids had left the room, I exhaled a breath of relief.

***

Meeting Silveryn again in the dining room, she was dressed in a lightweight linen
dress that looked comfortable. Her cheeks were rosy as if she had just finished
bathing, and the dryness in her hair from our travels had given way to renewed
vitality.

I sat awkwardly across the table from Silveryn, and soon the maids started serving
dishes one by one. I wasn’t yet accustomed to such treatment.

Silveryn spoke first.

“I heard you had five big holes in your belly.”

It seemed that the maid who treated my scars had told Silveryn about them.

“Oh, that… Yes, I nearly died.”

“Who did that to you?”

“You might not believe it, but it was a wraith.”

Interest sparked in Silveryn’s eyes.

“A wraith? Something ordinary people might search their whole lives for and never
see… Where did you encounter it? Did you commit crimes in a past life?”

“……In the unexplored territories to the northeast.”

“Why did you go there?”

It felt strangely hard and embarrassing to tell the truth. I was afraid she’d see me as
recklessly foolish.

“The same reason as this time.”

Silveryn chuckled lightly and said,

“You’re quite the tough one. You almost died once searching for that, and you went
again?”

“Yes, somehow…”

I couldn’t tell if it was praise or sarcasm.

“How did you survive that time?”

“I had companions then. They’re the ones who saved me.”

Her expression wavered momentarily at the word ‘companions’ before she asked,

“Was the person you were with a wizard?”

“Yes.”

I tensed up, thinking Silveryn might ask about Liza.

I still couldn’t trust her enough to reveal everything.

Contrary to my expectations, Silveryn said in a demure voice,

“I see.”

Thankfully, she didn’t press further.

Silveryn stopped asking questions and wore an inscrutable expression. Did I make a
mistake?

She looked as though she wanted to ask more but eventually kept quiet and picked
up a piece of bread from the table, seemingly mulling over our conversation. She
appeared somewhat dissatisfied.

As the atmosphere grew a tad awkward, I continued with another question.

“Do you live here alone? What about your family?”

“I’m alone here. Just get to live without nosing around.”

“Do you live separately?”

Silveryn’s tone was nonchalant as she replied,

“No. I had a younger sibling with quite an age difference, but they died a long time
ago.”

Oops. Did I ask something unnecessary?

She observed my face for a moment before adding,

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

Suddenly recalling, Silveryn continued,

“Oh yeah, don’t mess around tonight, get some rest. Training starts tomorrow.”

Training would officially begin tomorrow. A mix of excitement and fear tangled
inside me.

I had thought I’d have a day or two more to rest, but that seemed like a vain hope.
Neither Silveryn nor I could rid the fatigue of the journey with just one night’s rest.
“Okay.”

“If we had met a bit earlier, I could’ve trained you and shown you around the village.
Unfortunately, we don’t have the leisure for that now.”

***

I sat on the balcony chair, staring blankly at the moon.

Silveryn’s words lingered in my head.

“Three months.”

That’s how much time was left until the academy’s entrance examination. Subtract
the time it would take to travel to the academy, and it was even less than three
months.

I had lived a life far removed from any thought of academies.

My mind was filled with questions. Could I gain skills suitable for the academy in just
three months?

It would be a relief not to be ridiculed.

What did Silveryn see in me to bring me along? Was it just because of a sword?

Even though we had become master and apprentice, I couldn’t rely on her for
everything. What comes easily can be easily discarded.

As much as things might seem fine now, who knows if she might discard me over
some slight disturbance or dissatisfaction.

My chest tightened, and I took a couple of deep breaths. Thinking too much wouldn’t
change anything.

The important thing was to do what I could.

Not to look too far ahead.

But to reach as far as I could.

I clenched my fists.
Silveryn and I were at a lakeside early in the morning, before the mist of dawn had
even lifted. From where we stood to the opposite horizon, there continued a stretch
of white sandy beach.

What Silveryn handed me was an axe.

As I looked blankly at the axe she was offering, she spoke.

“What are you waiting for? Take it.”

“Ah, yes.”

I took the axe and gripped it tightly with both hands. It was quite heavy.

However, I had no clue what she intended for me to do with it. What did an axe have
to do with swordsmanship?

“Go and chop down a tree. A big one. And don’t use that shiny sword of yours.”

I was sure I had heard that we were to train in swordsmanship.

Moreover, she hadn’t even brought a practice sword. While the situation was baffling,
I refrained from complaint and headed towards the nearby forest filled with large
trees.

There, I picked a tree of suitable size and began to chop.

The sound of the axe echoed in the quiet forest.

The tree was so thick that it would be insufficient to wrap two adult arms around it,
and it was incredibly hard, making the task challenging.

My forearms, shoulders, and back quickly began to ache. After about twenty minutes
of chopping, the tree finally groaned and tilted to one side. The branches snapped
against other trees before the trunk crashed down with a thud, shaking the ground.

I regained my breath.

“Phew!”

The moment of small triumph was brief.

Silveryn, who had been standing behind me, nonchalantly gave her next command.

“You’re not done yet. Chop down another tree.”

After another period of time spent felling another tree, there wasn’t a part of my
upper body that wasn’t sore. The muscles I hadn’t used before were stimulated,
causing my arms to shake uncontrollably.

Regardless, Silveryn issued her instruction indifferently.

“You’re still far from done. Strip the branches off the trees that you’ve felled.”

With Silveryn’s magic, in fact, this task could have been finished in an instant. That
she tasked me to do it meant this process was also part of the training.

After I stripped off all the branches, what remained were two long, round logs.

Silveryn stood next to the trimmed logs, stepping at regular intervals to mark them.

“Chop them to pieces at these intervals.”

By now, I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh. I doubted I had the strength left to
chop up all that.

“If you don’t finish today, no dinner for you.”

“……You’re joking, right?”

Our eyes met, and without a word, Silveryn just gave me a calm smile. Something
about the way she smiled unnerved me.
I took the axe and approached the first mark on the log.

After swinging the axe for at least a dozen times.

Finally, with a snap, the joint gave way. Just chopping one segment had drained all
my energy. Now my lower back and thighs were also starting to feel the strain.

I walked to the next mark and swung the axe again. Lacking strength in my entire
body, I twisted and turned, trying to find some technique.

After trying repeatedly, a certain knack for wielding the axe seemed to naturally
come to me.

It wasn’t just about putting strength in my arms.

When I used my waist and legs to apply weight and momentum to the swing, the axe
cut far deeper than when I just hacked away with brute arm strength.

The work gradually became easier.

Once I understood how to minimize unnecessary force, I chopped wood as if in a

trance.

After chopping the wood into five pieces and gasping for air, I looked up to find the
sun high in the sky.

Silveryn clapped her hands sharply and shouted,

“Stop!”

When I turned around, two maids were standing next to Silveryn, each holding a
bamboo basket. I was so engrossed in my work that I hadn’t noticed other people
arriving.

“Eat and then continue.”

Silveryn led me and the maids to the white sandy beach by the lake. My muscles
were so overworked that I trudged behind them slowly.

Silveryn and the maids had advanced a score of steps ahead. The maids spread a mat
on the sandy beach and placed a basket at the corner to prevent it from being blown
away.

Silveryn sat down on the mat first and waited for me. I plodded along like an elderly
man nearing death and finally collapsed half-fallen onto the mat.

From the basket, sandwiches, salted pork, cheese, and milk appeared one after
another. The maids served them on plates for Silveryn and me.

The daily fare here was more bountiful than the special meals I had back in Haman. I
knew I had to eat as much as possible since I might miss dinner.

As I took a bite of the sandwich, cool breezes from the lake blew, nicely cooling my
sweat. Silveryn too lightly brushed her hair and gladly welcomed the breeze.

“The weather’s nice, isn’t it?”

“……Yes, I think I understand why you boasted about it.”

Was this what a family picnic felt like? The hardship melted away, leaving my body
and mind in peace.

With such sweet rest, I could endure any rigorous training.

***

After the meal, I dove back into work.

Only as twilight approached did I manage to chop all the trees into pieces.

“Finally, finally.”

I dropped the axe and flung myself onto the ground. By the skin of my teeth, I
managed to secure dinner.

Silveryn had returned to the manor with the maids long ago after lunch.

I felt I would just fade away if I stayed put. Drifting to sleep with heavy eyelids, I was
startled awake by the sound of someone nearby.
Lifting my head, there was a maid.

“Miss Silveryn asked me to check if you had finished the work.”

“Look, it’s all done.”

The maid glanced over the chopped wood and then said,

“It’s almost time for dinner; you should go before it’s too late.”

I struggled to my feet. My hands and legs quivered, and the maid looked at me with
pity.

I was worried about tomorrow.

How would I handle the intense muscle soreness to come? Would I even be able to
move?

I dragged my feet forward a few steps and had to lean against a tree, the weakness in
my legs forcing me to rest.

Thus, I walked and rested, alternating every few steps.

“Let me assist you.”

Seeing I would likely miss the dinner time, the maid eventually had to support me.

I had to admit. Even without swinging a sword, this was extremely effective for
building stamina and basic muscular strength.

But what weighed on my mind was that this was still ‘only the beginning’. The more I
thought about it, the scarier it became.

I only returned to the mansion after the sun had set. Fortunately, my share of the
meal was still on the table even though dinner time had passed.

After finishing my meal, I took a bath and settled into the armchair in my room. I had
some time to spare and thought about touching the meteoric iron but watching my
arms shake uncontrollably with the slightest effort made me reconsider.
While I was massaging my tightened muscles, someone knocked on the door.

“Excuse me.”

The maid entered the room, carrying a tray with three smoking potion bottles.

As soon as she entered, the strong scent of herbs hit my nostrils.

The maid placed the potions on the table and said,

“These potions are made from herbs that help with physical fatigue, muscle pain, and
muscle growth.”

“…”

I never dreamed that she would even prepare something like this. I would have been
thankful for just timely meals and a place to sleep.

I picked up a bottle and smelled it. The fragrance of herbs I remembered was faintly
discernible.

It was Gallia herbs and the scent of Verosia flowers. Where on earth did she find
these valuable ingredients?

Moreover, various other herbs seemed mixed like a medley, making it difficult to
distinguish anything else.

Knowing that these herbs were included, I assumed the taste wouldn’t be too far
from what I had imagined and brought the potion to my lips.

“Yeck. Huff!”

But after taking a single gulp, I almost spat it all out. If I hadn’t known any better, I
would have thought someone was trying to poison me.

“…Is this really made from herbs?”

It tasted like dirt mixed with rotten pork and raw fish entrails.

The maid looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and said,

“…You will need to drink it daily.”

***

The next day, we ventured into the forest as soon as the morning sun rose.

Perhaps due to the repulsive potion’s effectiveness, the muscle soreness was minor
and I almost felt no fatigue. However, I didn’t have the luxury to marvel at the
miraculous effects of the potion. As soon as I had recovered, I had to push myself
again right from the morning.

“Roll it.”

“What?”

“To that clearing over there.”

The clearing in the forest she pointed to was about a hundred paces from where we
stood.

The instructions were to roll the tree stumps, as big as wild boar bodies, using brute
strength to the clearing.

How was I supposed to move all these? A sigh naturally escaped.

The diameter of the logs was awkwardly between the height of my knee and thigh,
making it impossible to comfortably stand and push with my hands.

“Can’t we use tools?”

“No.”

This was going to be difficult. Pushing with my hands required bending low, putting
a strain on my back, and kicking them was out of the question as the logs were too
heavy.

The only option was to grasp the lower part of the log while seated and flip it over
upside down as I stood up.

At least the path to the clearing was slightly sloped downhill, which was the only
thing I could consider fortunate.

Thus, I began to roll each tree stump one by one.

After I had pushed out a dozen or so, I had gotten the hang of it, but the strain on my
back, abdomen, and thighs was much worse than the day before, even with the
proper technique.

By the time I had moved about a dozen, it was already lunchtime. I devoured my food
without leaving any crumbs and immediately returned to training.

By the time the evening settled, I had managed to move all but the last stump.

I stood there, hand on my side, catching my breath and looking at the last piece of
wood.

It wasn’t a maid that awaited me this time, but Silveryn herself. I thought she had left
after lunch, but when did she come back?

Silveryn sat on the last stump, legs crossed, wearing a straw hat and a beige dress.
With one hand casually holding a book, she seemed quite dignified as she read.

She gave me a puzzled look as I stood motionless before her.

“…Why?”

“That’s the last one.”

She glanced at the stump she was sitting on and immediately closed her book.

“Leave this one. I need somewhere to sit while I wait.”

Then she stood, put her hands behind her back, and walked ahead with light steps.

“Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

With that, she hummed a little tune and moved away.

Somehow, Silveryn appeared to be enjoying herself more than me. It should be me

happy about finishing the day’s hard work.
We left the forest and made it back to the lakeside. We walked along the sandy beach
in the direction of the manor.

Silveryn maintained a steady pace, gradually moving further ahead.

Due to the strain I had put on my leg muscles, I could only walk at half my usual pace.
It was impossible to walk alongside her.

Our distance continued to widen. It made me wonder why she had bothered to bring
a book and wait for me.

“Teacher.”

Silveryn didn’t turn around as she answered.

“Why?”

“Let’s go together.”

“No.”

“…”

It seemed as though Silveryn had no concern for me staggering around all day.

Come on, even the maid had offered her support yesterday.

She stretched her arms out to her sides for balance, trying to leave straight
footprints in the sand as she walked.

The wind blew and the hem of her dress fluttered lightly.

She made a small fuss when she lost balance and displaced her foot in the wrong
direction.

“Aish.”

Then she continued on her way again, arms stretched wide, trying to mark a straight
line with her footsteps.
The formidable magic professor, who could spit flames from her hands, was nowhere
to be seen; instead, there was a naive young girl playing in front of me, resembling
someone my age.

I looked at the footprints she had left and followed, stepping in time with them.
I hadn’t wielded a sword for a full ten days.

In all that time, all I had done was cut trees, chop them into pieces, roll them, and
pile them up.

It hadn’t been for naught, though. I had gained precious calluses and my weight had
increased. While muscles weren’t visibly bulging, there was a newfound sense of
balance in my physique, and my endurance had definitely improved from before.

The hideous potion played a significant role. It allowed me to recover overnight from
what should have been a week of bedrest due to the hard labor, and to handle even
heavier workloads the next day.

On the ninth day, I managed to finish the assigned work a little after midday, my
skills improving to where I even had spare stamina.

This was precisely the reason I had grown interested in alchemy. Alchemy and
potion-making were as powerful as magic itself. After finishing the day’s training and
when nighttime came, I would take an alchemy book from Silveryn’s library and read
it until bedtime.

On the eleventh day, Silveryn had me fashion poles from the trees and plant them in
the clearing.

There were six poles, set a step apart in a row, with a total of four rows amounting to
24 poles in all.

Since the tree logs weren’t cut very large initially, the poles were only about as high
as my thighs. After creating these poles, which I didn’t know the purpose of, Silveryn
said,

“This will be your training ground.”

I looked at Silveryn, then back at the poles, and then back to her again.

She nodded as if confirming what I saw was correct.

“Get on top of the pole.”

“……?”

“Step on it and stand atop.”

Although several questions arose in my mind, I did as Silveryn said and climbed onto
a pole. The surface area was enough for one foot but too small for both.

“You will train in swordsmanship up there.”

I doubted my ears. Swordsmanship training here, where even maintaining balance

was difficult?

One wrong step would send me tumbling down. Breath seemingly caught in my
chest.

As I wondered if knights trained like this, Silveryn, as if reading my thoughts, said,

“If you’re going to spend your life having friendly matches and tournaments with
knights, then you don’t need this training. But even if you were to collect trophies
from such pastimes, they wouldn’t assure your life.”

“…”

“Enemies won’t kindly come out to flat ground to fight you according to your
convenience. Adapting where there’s hardly foothold is first.”

I immediately began training.

The start was getting used to stepping on the wooden poles. Not only moving
forward but also practicing side and back steps.

Silveryn watched and corrected my posture one step at a time.

“Don’t look down, look ahead. Move as if you have an enemy in front of you. Will you
keep looking at the ground even when a sword is coming at you?”

“You need to feel the ground with your sense of touch, not look at it while stepping.”

Since I had to find footing based solely on feel, there were countless times I
misstepped and fell.

Each time I fell and gathered more bruises, my abilities grew little by little.

This training continued until the next day.

As I grew adept at stepping, Silveryn increased the difficulty a little more.

At her gesture, the maids placed a basket next to her, filled with pebbles.

“It’s simple. Catch the stones I throw.”

The task felt easy when I first heard it, but in practice, it was a whole different level.

Silveryn tossed the pebbles in a parabola and I had to step and move to the expected
landing spot to catch them.

But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. If I focused on where to step, the stones would
have hit the ground, and if I focused on the stones, I’d misstep and tumble down.

It was a training that demanded coordination between the arms and legs, as well as
high levels of concentration.

The number of times I fell doubled when I started this training.

On the first day, I could catch three out of ten thrown pebbles, by the third day, seven,
and by the fifth day, I was catching every single stone with ease.

Silveryn didn’t stop there, though.

“It looks like you’re getting used to it.”

Saying so, she randomly picked out three poles and threw them away.

She effectively disrupted my comfort zone and thrust me into a new environment
every time.

Furthermore, Silveryn had the housekeepers modify my training ground daily.

Changing the height of some poles or replacing them with thin stakes and so on.

And so, I gradually adapted to these changes. Eventually, standing on the poles felt as
comfortable as standing on solid ground.

Even when Silveryn threw the stones faster, I could catch every one without fail.

Finally, she put down the stones and spoke.

“That’s enough.”

“Enough…?”

“Congratulations. You’ve passed the first phase of Zeldan Hart’s test.”

She took out an old parchment from within her cloak and stretched out her arm
towards me as if to hand it over.

I descended and took the paper Silveryn offered, reading it.

It listed the same training instructions I had been following up to this point, and at
the very bottom was Zeldan Hart’s signature.

“Since you finished faster than the time Zeldan Hart mentioned, you’re pretty useful,
at least by human standards. It’s just the first phase, but still.”

“…But who is this person?”

“…”

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t know who Zeldan Hart is…?”

“Yes.”
Silveryn looked at me with a face of regret and shook her head silently.

“Teacher?”

Silveryn left without me.

“Enough, I’m going ahead.”

***

That night, I scoured the books in Silveryn’s library to appease my curiosity.

And there, I found the name Zeldan Hart without much difficulty.

Upon seeing his name, I sighed and smacked my forehead.

If one wields a sword… it’s a name that should not be unknown.

A Swordmaster, one of only ten in the entire world.

Among those ten, he reached the summit,

And finally attained the absolute domain of the sword.

Zeldan Hart was the name of that legendary ‘Sword God’.

***

The opponent’s sword clatters to the ground.

The second-year student Nash, who had agreed to be my sparring partner, bit his lip.
Nash was a prodigy good enough to be in the advanced combat class, but he was no
match for Flynn in terms of swordsmanship.

From footwork, strength, sensibility, to finesse, Flynn was flawless. His

swordsmanship skills far exceeded the level typical of a second-year. After all, there
were rumors that the Imperial Royal Knights had been in contact with Flynn several
times.

If it had been a real sword fight and not a wooden sword duel, he would have been
decimated by Flynn’s sword aura before taking a few hits.

Only Flynn and Elliot knew how to emit sword aura among all first- and second-year
students. Both were geniuses among geniuses, possessing overwhelming skills.

“Damn it.”

Flynn reached out to the fallen Nash and said,

“There’s no need to be frustrated. I’ve been wielding a sword since I could walk. By
experience alone, this outcome is to be expected.”

Nash grasped Flynn’s hand to stand up and retorted,

“Were you always this annoying since you were little?”

Flynn chuckled and turned away. That’s when Nash grabbed him again.

“Let’s go again. This time with real swords.”

Flynn shook his head.

“Professor Gael has called for me. I must go.”

Nash provocatively baited him,

“I’ll just spread the word that you chickened out from fighting me, right?”

“…”

“If it’s Professor Gael, I’ll fetch her myself. You’re almost on the verge of collapse
here, anyway.”

Hearing the transparent taunt, Flynn just shook his head as if weary.

Then he drew his sword at his waist and said,

“I can’t entertain you for long.”

“Good, come then.”

Nash inwardly admired Flynn’s sword as he held it.

The sword of Occam. A legendary sword passed down through generations of the
Ermiya family. It was a famous sword, awarded 400 years ago to the first leader of
the Ermiya family for his valor in the war, given by a Dwarf King.

The smooth blade was inscribed with runes to resonate well with the wielder’s
mana.

The reason Nash requested a match with real swords was simply to see that sword
once more.

Nash picked up his own sword, which had been tossed aside in the training grounds,
and drew it.

Grinning coyly, he brimmed with bravado,

“It won’t be easy.”

The two of them faced each other, swords at the ready.

A bluish aura rose from Flynn’s sword. It was his sword aura.

The air suddenly grew dense.

Sweat formed on Nash’s back due to the oppressive feeling of the sword aura.

The standoff didn’t last long.

Nash was the first to burst forward with a battle cry toward Flynn.

Flynn stepped back, effortlessly moving out of Nash’s reach. Without needing to
clash swords, Flynn lightly dodged Nash’s blade and counterattacked.

Nash hesitated momentarily due to the backlash of swinging his sword

indiscriminately. Flynn seized the opportunity to strike.

In a single move, the duel was decided.

Clang.
When Nash came to his senses and lifted his hands, only the sword’s hilt was in his
grip.

The blade was rolling on the ground.

Flynn sheathed his sword and announced,

“Then rest up. I’m off.”

Nash let out a hollow laugh and slumped down on the ground.

Walking through the corridors, Flynn cooled off the sweat. He straightened his
disheveled clothes and caught his breath.

He knocked on the door of Gael’s office. Hearing an invitation from inside, he opened
the door and entered.

Gael was sitting on the windowsill, wiping her sword with a dry towel.

“Professor Gael, you called for me.”

“Welcome.”

Gael gestured for him to sit. Flynn seated himself on a visitor’s chair at some
distance from Gael.

“I’m still sweating from the training; my apologies.”

“When have I ever been bothered by such things? How’s your father?”

“Yes, he’s improved a lot.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“But what’s the reason for calling me?”

Gael wore a meaningful expression and said,

“There’s a personal favor I want to ask of you.”

Gael was Flynn’s mentor. She had tutored him at home since he was eleven and
continued their relationship at the academy. The fact that Flynn had smoothly
entered the academy was all thanks to Gael. Flynn had a steadfast nature, believing
in repaying all debts, and thus felt indebted to Gael for always helping him.

“Whatever it is, I’ll help if I can.”

Gael nodded slightly. From her expression, it didn’t appear to be an onerous request.

“…Sure, it won’t be difficult.”

After finishing dinner, I found myself sifting through herbology texts in Silveryn’s
study.

Silveryn’s study was larger than several rooms combined; it even surpassed the
archives I had seen in the Acates Temple during my time at Loreile Hall.

The fact that an individual possessed so many texts struck me as wondrous.

And I was enjoying the tremendous privilege of unrestricted access to such a

sorcerer’s library.

Sorcerers and alchemists are, after all, proprietary and monopolistic about their
knowledge as it directly equates to power and leverage. Which is why, unless there is
a trust-based relationship, you couldn’t just walk in and out of their libraries.

I had heard that getting books on magic and alchemy was extremely difficult, if not
impossible, for non-practitioners.

I wasn’t sure why she would allow someone so easily inside when there was a
chance someone could export data or misuse the information.

If she thought so trivial of me, assuming I wouldn’t even know how to utilize any
pilfered knowledge, then I really had nothing to say.

I strode along the aisles of bookshelves. The section on herbology and alchemy was
covered in dust. It appeared they hadn’t been touched in quite a while.

My overall knowledge of herbs was still lacking. Advanced stages like refinement of
herbs, potion brewing, or the development of recipes were still beyond my reach.

During my search, I discovered a book heavily worn from handling.

‘The Great Encyclopedia of Herbs’

I flipped through the book and skimmed it briefly. It was filled with the types and
characteristics of herbs, along with their effects and illustrations exactly the sort of
knowledge I needed.

Certain pages had traces of somebody’s handwriting or notes, evident signs of study.

Were these Silveryn’s remnants?

As I was flipping through the book, it suddenly stopped at a certain point, as if it

caught on something. It turned out something had been wedged between its pages
like a bookmark.

It was a small piece of parchment. Picking it up, I turned it over to find a portrait
drawn on the palm-sized paper.

Who could this be?

At a glance, the depiction was of a boy who appeared slightly younger than myself.
The boy’s hair caught my attention—it was the same reddish-black color as
Silveryn’s.

Written in small letters on the bottom right corner of the piece was the name:

‘Janus’

It seemed to be the name of the boy portrayed in the drawing.

Memories of Silveryn’s words flickered through my mind like a zoetrope.

Her only kin, her brother.

It was quite likely that this was a portrait of Silveryn’s deceased brother whom she
had mentioned.

I had the uneasy feeling that I stumbled upon something not meant to be disturbed.

It was puzzling why this portrait was embedded within an herbology encyclopedia.

I looked at the page where the portrait had been placed, wondering whether there
was a connection.
‘……!’

On the very page where the picture had been inserted was a story about Venemaril.
The herb that Liza and I had sought, which was reputed to grant visions of the future.
I revisited the book’s author—someone I had nonchalantly skipped over.

Rutavis de Marthalos

This was the book by the great sage Rutavis, which Liza had mentioned when we
were searching for Venemaril in the past.

I felt a strange sentiment—never had I imagined that this would end up in my grasp.

But, did Silveryn also take an interest in Venemaril?

I began to read the description of Venemaril inscribed in the book.

[…It grows by absorbing the chaotic energy of the universe that governs time and
space. Such organic matter exists only in Venemaril—it is truly unique. By absorbing
the chaotic energy of Venemaril, we can momentarily glimpse behind the veils of
time and space. However…]

What came next was missing. The rest of the details about Venemaril had been torn
out.

I pondered for a moment the reason behind the torn-out page. Surveying other parts
of the book, it was evident that Venemaril’s entry was the sole section missing.

Maybe someone specifically kept that page to read it over and over again.

Perhaps Silveryn was also trying to resolve some issue through Venemaril. And could
it be related to the brother in the portrait?

The questions grew more significant but could not be explored any further. This was
a sensitive matter. It concerned Silveryn personally, and unless she chose to speak to
me directly, this was not for me to know.

I put the portrait back on its original page. I couldn’t leave the book behind as it
contained knowledge I immediately needed.
As long as I returned it to where it belonged after reading, without anyone being the
wiser, there should be no issues.

***

That night, I dreamed.

I was in a village I had never seen before, the perpetual snow mountains, which I’d
witnessed when I first arrived in Weizel, served as the backdrop. This meant that the
place wasn’t too far from there.

I walked through walls, as though only my spirit had slipped out. I stopped in front of
a two-story mansion built with red bricks. Ivy enveloped most of the walls. The
mansion appeared to be abandoned—the iron gate was rusted and the windows
were so coated in dust that it was impossible to see inside.

I found myself being pulled into the house; I had no control over it. Moving through
the door, I passed through the corridor. It was filled with dust, and cobwebs were
strewn about in places. I entered a room that looked like a study. Though not as
extensive as Silveryn’s library, there were still quite a number of books.

There was a desk near the window, which I approached.

In the center of the desk was a bunch of parchments tied with string. The papers,
despite the absence of wind, fluttered as if caught in a gale, turning the pages at a
rapid pace.

And then, I awoke.

Like clockwork, my eyes opened at the same early dawn each day for training. As
always, peering outside, the sun had not yet fully risen.

The dream felt too vivid and clear to be dismissed as meaningless. In the past,
Silveryn had advised me to take note of such dreams.

However, sounds from beyond the window persisted, unusual from normal days. The
noise of people was audible.

Silveryn generally disliked visitors, which rendered the estate perennially silent. For
visitors’ voices to be heard at this time was exceedingly uncommon.
I stepped onto the balcony to ascertain the happenings outside.

In front of the mansion were five unfamiliar visitors. Silveryn, accompanied by

several maids and a butler, was facing them.

One of the visitors held in his arms a woman smeared in blood.

Silveryn’s expression was also hardened, serious. She talked with the visitors, but
their words were not easily heard.

Leaving the room, I descended the stairs. The main entrance of the mansion was
wide open, which allowed me to overhear the commotion.

“Come this way, quickly.”

A maid urged someone along hastily. The man holding the bloodstained woman
rushed to follow the maid. Passing by me, she appeared to be a young girl about my
age.

Silveryn, at the entrance, wore an exasperated expression as if annoyed by the turn

of events.

I drew nearer to overhear the conversation.

Silveryn inquired,

“Do you have any idea where they might have come from?”

“They came and went in the blink of an eye last night. We couldn’t make them out in
the dark. And after that, no matter how thoroughly the villagers searched, they found
no trace of their whereabouts.”

Silveryn roughly ran her hands through her disheveled hair and sighed deeply.

“Understood. I’ll investigate it today, so please go for now. The girl’s injuries aren’t
too severe; they won’t be life-threatening. We’ll take care of her until she is
stabilized.”

“Thank you. Thank you, sorceress.”

The guests bowed repetitively, grateful to Silveryn, finalizing the conversation before
they left.

Silveryn let out a deep sigh, turned around and as she entered the mansion, she
noticed me.

“Oh, you’re up?”

“Yes. What happened to cause such a commotion?”

“Ghouls have appeared in the village. Seems like they broke into a household in the
middle of the night causing a ruckus.”

Ghouls? I doubted my own hearing.

Silveryn had once mentioned that magical beasts emerged once or twice a year. But I
hadn’t envisioned it would involve ghouls.

“Ghouls are here too…?”

“No. This is the first time ghouls have appeared. They typically move in groups, so if
there is one, it usually means dozens are nearby. It’s become quite a bother.”

The thought of dozens of untraceable ghouls was alarming. Given their number, they
could easily transform an entire village into a bloody mess in less than a single night.

“It seems more serious than I thought.”

“Ghouls upending peace in tranquil Weisel, it’s all too headache-inducing. For today,
training is canceled. I need to head to the village immediately.”

For me, this was a rarely encountered opportunity to accumulate actual combat
experience. I couldn’t just languish doing nothing.

Having even one more person who has dealt with ghouls could be a boon compared
to having none.

“I would like to come along.”

“No.”
She cut me off so resolutely, it left me momentarily lost for words. She continued
forward hurriedly.

“I have encountered ghouls before.”

Hearing this, she paused for a moment. After a brief contemplation followed by a
sigh, she spoke,

“Fine. But do not draw that light sword in front of the villagers. Only reveal it if
you’re truly at death’s door.”

“Understood.”

“Prepare to leave right away. If we’re unlucky, you might be seeing blood from the
break of day. So brace yourself.”
Silveryn took me to a storage room.

There, many of her personal possessions were stored—clothing and shoes of a

unique style that bore no national identity, furniture pieces of varying shapes, and
old magic staffs.

In the corner of a showcase, numerous trophies and medals had been stashed. There
were so many that some trophies were just piled atop one another like stacked
dishes.

Looking at the engravings on the trophies, there was nothing missing—emblems of

the empire, duchies, magical assemblies, knight orders, and trading companies. Just
what had Silveryn been doing all her life?

The past of Silveryn lay dormant in that storage room—a significant past it was.

I didn’t know Silveryn’s exact age. All I could tell by appearance was that she looked
very young, perhaps in her mid-twenties at best.

Could someone of such young age really have such a list of achievements?

It’s not like she’s using alchemy to suppress aging and is actually a grandmother on
the inside, right?

I was absently admiring the storage when Silveryn called me over.

“Come here.”

She was quietly standing, her back to me, holding a sword in a leather scabbard.

As I approached her, she turned around slowly and handed the sword to me.

“Take it.”
I took the sword, turning it this way and that to inspect it. The design was simple and
unadorned. It was the size of a one-handed sword and light enough to wield without
strain.

By the looks of it, the scabbard and handle showed signs of being used for a long
time.

“Did someone use this?”

“Yes. But now, it’s a sword without an owner.”

“Who was the previous owner?”

“My brother.”

“…”

“It’s yours now.”

I gazed silently into Silveryn’s eyes. She, maintaining an impassive face.

Then this would be a keepsake of her brother. Was it really alright for me to use it?

As if reading my mind, Silveryn said,

“It was going to be discarded. Swing it until it breaks without holding back.”

Although Silveryn didn’t seem concerned by it, I felt that it shouldn’t just be
carelessly used.

How could one possibly wield such a sword frivolously.

***

Clad in a grey robe, Silveryn stepped out of the manor. A servant waited outside with
a horse ready.

As I had suspected, there was only one horse. That meant I would have to ride with
Silveryn.
She gestured to me.

“Climb on first.”

“…”

My goal was to acquire enough skill not to be ridiculed at the academy. Looks like I’ll
need to learn riding before swordsmanship.

After I mounted the horse, Silveryn followed suit.

She instructed the servant,

“Cancel all outdoor activities today and stay within the protective barrier of the
manor.”

“Understood, miss.”

With a shake of the reins, the horse began to move.

We swiftly left the estate grounds. After about thirty minutes of riding, the village
became visible. We dismounted near the outskirts of the village. It was my first time
seeing this nearby settlement.

Passing through the village entrance, there were too many people for horseback and
the road was busy with merchants.

I had imagined the village as a small hamlet, but it was much larger than expected. It
seemed to be evolving into a small town.

Leading the horse along, we made our way toward the central path of the village.
Peddlers gripping their bundles and the villagers glanced at Silveryn, whispering
among themselves.

They didn’t seem to recognize her as a sorceress. It was her unique appearance that
garnered such attention.

Silveryn’s above-average height and refined features stood out, and her unusually
pale complexion drew the eye from afar.
Due to Silveryn’s arresting presence, I was merely perceived by onlookers as a lackey
following a noble lady.

I glanced at Silveryn’s face. Even capturing the gaze of many men, she seemed
completely unaware of it.

Her attention was fixed in one direction.

A group of dozens of knights in the center of the village. Only the lord could
command such a number of knights.

It appeared the lord had assembled a force here in response to the ghoul sightings.

Silveryn moved towards the knights.

As we approached them, their gazes locked onto Silveryn.

One knight on horseback drew his sword, pointing it towards Silveryn and
demanded,

“Who are you? State your identity and affiliation.”

Suddenly, a voice from afar shouted,

“How insolent! What are you doing?”

Everyone’s gaze turned in that direction. There stood a knight with a healthy beard,
holding his back straight. He was their commanding officer.

The commander immediately restrained his subordinate and dismounted. He

approached Silveryn, kneeled before her with one knee.

“Archmage Silveryn, I am honored to meet you.”

Silveryn extended her hand toward him.

“It’s been a while, Popper.”

Popper kissed the back of her hand, showing his respect.

“I apologize on behalf of my subordinate for his impudence.”

“Do not mind it.”

Hearing Silveryn’s name, all the knights dismounted in unison and knelt on one knee,
bowing their heads.

What?

The most surprised here must have been me. I was dumbfounded by the knights’
actions. They were likely nobility themselves, so to see them so abashed before
Silveryn felt quite alien.

It was largely because Silveryn had always treated me so informally. An archmage—a

person of such high standing was she…?

“Please rise. I would like to leisurely exchange pleasantries, but given the pressing
situation, I cannot afford such luxury.”

As the commander stood up, the rest of the knights did likewise.

Silveryn pointed at me and said,

“Oh, this is my apprentice.”

Commander Popper looked at me with a face full of questions.

Simultaneously, the knights’ gazes shifted to me.

I greeted them according to etiquette. I never imagined that the manners I learned at
Loreile Hall would come in handy like this.

“I am Damian. I followed my teacher here hoping to be of at least some help against

the ghouls.”

This was intimidating. They were nobles, after all. The mention of me being
Silveryn’s apprentice had everyone focusing on me—enough to make one’s back
break out into a sweat.

Popper then spoke,

“Given that you are the archmage’s apprentice, I expect we could look forward to
something, right?”

Expectations? I’m just a teenage boy of little significance.

Silveryn responded,

“Ha, not yet. He doesn’t know much, so do not expect. He’s here to witness and learn
from the elders’ actions.”

“He’s about the same age as our youngest here. We brought our junior along too,
thinking to give him some experience, but before even starting he’s gotten into
trouble, tsk tsk…”

Popper turned his gaze towards the knight who had first drawn his sword and
challenged Silveryn. That knight had the youngest-looking face among the group, his
expression tensed with nervousness.

The young knight approached Silveryn, kneeling down in front of her.

“My name is Joyce Carol. I sincerely apologize for my behavior.”

“It’s fine. You acted according to protocol. Rise.”

As Joyce stood up shakily, Popper patted his shoulder and said,

“This lad’s planning on entering the academy next year. He’s young, but gifted and
excellent at swordsmanship. This subjugation mission will be a valuable experience
for him.”

The mention of the academy perked up my ears.

That meant he could become my peer.

“Then Damian is the same age. This young man also comes recommended by me to
the academy. It seems you may become peers in the future.”

The words ‘academy recommendation’ triggered a brief exchange of glances

between Joyce and me.
Joyce scrutinized me from head to toe, as if assessing a rival. I felt somewhat
uncomfortable; his gaze seemed tinged with envy at the mention of a
recommendation letter.

Popper went on,

“I see there is much to discuss regarding your apprentice. Let’s postpone that until
after the subjugation and start discussing the ghouls.”

The conversation shifted to talk of ghouls.

“Have you located the ghouls?”

Popper stroked his beard before answering,

“Hmmm, not yet. We’ve sent scouts near the southwest windmill and the eastern
potato field. The ground in the potato field is soft and there are fewer rocks, which
makes it conducive for ghouls to dig and nest, so we’re focusing our search around
there.”

One of his subordinates discreetly approached, unfolding a map to show Silveryn.

That’s some friendly cooperation.

“Then there’s time until the scouts return. Could we take a look at the initial invasion
site?”

“Of course, I shall guide you myself.”

Popper, accompanied by two knights, lead the way.

Following him for about ten minutes, we arrived at a small house made of terracotta.

Two knights who were on guard saluted us upon arrival.

The house was located in the center of the village. It was puzzling how the ghouls
managed to not draw attention on their way here given the limited pathways.

As Popper opened the door to the house, the smell of blood hit me even from behind.
I covered my nose.
“Ugh.”

Inside, we were welcomed by the corpse of an elderly woman.

“This was the home of a grandmother and her granddaughter. It seems the ghouls
broke through the window and attacked.”

Grandmother and granddaughter. That made me think of the bloodied girl brought to
Silveryn’s home. Could she be the granddaughter?

If so, that girl might have become an orphan, having lost her sole kin. The thought
weighed on me, as it didn’t feel like someone else’s business.

Silveryn commented,

“It seems the ghoul has fled.”

“Right. The villagers came running over when they heard screams, and it ran off,”
Popper said.

“Did you pursue it?”

“We did, but the creature was so elusive it disappeared in no time.”

“It might still be hiding in the central village. We need to find it quickly before it
rejoins the group.”

I was haunted by the thought of a full swarm of ghouls.

Popper declared,

“We’ll search the village immediately. Hmmm, if the one that fled calls for the rest, it
would be a huge problem.”

His face set into a firm, serious expression.

Shortly thereafter, he issued an order to gather his men.

The knights who had gone out scouting reported back with no traces found.

Upon hearing this, Popper’s expression darkened.

“The situation doesn’t look good.”

He seemed to be surmising that the ghoul had rejoined its group.

“Search the gardens, open spaces, and areas with weak grounds throughout the
village meticulously.”

The streets of the village were all carefully paved with stones, making it difficult to
find places where ghouls could have burrowed in.

The knights dispersed into multiple groups and scattered in various directions.

Silveryn and I joined Popper’s search team, with four knights following us.

The knights occasionally glanced at me while keeping watch on our surroundings as

we rode on horseback, close together within Silveryn’s embrace—understandable
considering the circumstances.

Silveryn had urged me to stay close to protect me from any sudden ghoul attacks, but
in hindsight, even the risk of being torn by ghouls seemed preferable to walking.

I whispered with a small voice.

“Teacher.”

“Yes?”

“May I proceed on foot?”

“No.”

Silveryn quickly dismissed my suggestion.

The piercing stares made it hard to focus on searching for ghouls.

The search continued for an hour without a trace, and Popper’s face grew grimmer
by the minute.

If we couldn’t find the ghoul this time, we would have to fortify the village by
gathering more troops, which would be costly as it would constrain commerce and
keep the residents in constant fear.

As we moved, something caught my eye.

“…?”

It was a house of an eerily familiar shape. It had been mostly hidden by a fence, but
as we got closer, its form became clear, and I was certain.

The two-story red brick house.

It was the mansion from my dream.

Why is that here?

Silveryn noticed my fixed stare and found it odd.

“What’s the matter?”

What should I say? Would she believe me if I told her I saw that house in my dream?
My dream only involved bookshelves and books—nothing directly related to ghouls.

If anyone, Silveryn might believe me, but mentioning a dream and insisting we
invade someone’s private residence would undoubtedly earn me disapproval from
the knights.

I was in a position where I couldn’t act rashly. Carelessly stepping forward and
causing trouble could damage Silveryn’s reputation as my mentor. For now, I had no
choice but to watch how the situation unfolded.
“It’s nothing.”

***

The search team, which Joyce had joined, was filled with discussions about the
Archmage Silveryn.

The easygoing chatter suggested they didn’t take the ghoul problem seriously,
treating it more like an event for earning accolades than a genuine threat.

Joyce restrained himself from interjecting, just quietly listening to their loud banter.

“I was shocked. When I first heard the rumors, I thought she was an old crone.”

“She’s said to be the youngest professor, why would an old crone come up in that?”

“When they say Eternia professor, even if she’s the youngest, I figured she’d be in her
forties or fifties at least.”

“Hey, if there are any pretty crones like that, bring them to me. I’ll take good care of
her.”

“I’ve never seen a person look like that in my life. Is it because I grew up in the
countryside and have low standards?”

“What’s more, I can’t believe someone with such a soft face managed to subdue an
Inferno Golem.”

Berelman, jokingly yet seriously, warned the group.

“Watch your mouths. If she hears you, you guys are going to be burned at the stake,
you rascals.”

The senior knight Berelman looked at Joyce and mentioned,

“Hey, how about you? She might become your future professor.”

Joyce was aware. Even if he entered the Academy, Silveryn was a Magic Department
professor, and he’d be in Combat; aside from a few collaborative classes, there
wouldn’t be much interaction.
But what lingered in his mind was this.

“I’m curious about the skill of that apprentice she has.”

Only the highest of talents earned a recommendation letter.

No one Joyce had encountered so far had shown superior talent in swordsmanship
compared to him. Although his prowess had only been tested within Weisel, he was
confident he wouldn’t fall short against any peer his age.

And yet, Silveryn, established in the Weisel region, had written a recommendation
letter for someone Joyce’s age.

It was a blow to his pride. He silently believed that, as Weisel’s most talented, he also
deserved a spot on that recommendation list.

Another senior knight, Volk, piped in.

“Ah, that finely-featured lad?”

He continued,

“Isn’t he heading towards magic? He’s the sorceress’s apprentice. Looking at his
appearance, he doesn’t seem to have gone through much hardship.”

“He was carrying a sword. What’s a mage doing with a sword? Look at the scabbard
and handle, they’re worn. At a glance, he’s a swordsman.”

‘A swordsman?’

A small spark kindled in Joyce’s heart.

Going to Eternia Academy for swordsmanship, and under far better conditions than
himself.

Volk snickered.

“Ah, did you see that? Kkk kkk. Riding the horse, snuggled up in her embrace.
Seemed quite the lucky fellow.”
The knights began snickering at the comment.

“Is he some precious treasure, being coddled like a baby?”

The knights threw in remarks one after the other.

“Who knows, maybe he’s a noble or royal scion brought on by solicitation.

Otherwise, why would she care for him so tenderly?”

“Be careful with your words.”

“No, I mean seriously. If he’s worthy of a recommendation, then he must be some

kind of genius. But he doesn’t strike me as particularly exceptional.”

“How would you know without seeing?”

With an air of arrogance, Volk remarked,

“You can tell just by looking.”

Internally, Joyce partially agreed with their banter. Silveryn had taken a sword-
wielding boy as her apprentice and put his name on the recommendation letter,
without surveying other talents in the knight’s order of the domain.

There had to have been some underhanded solicitation, or perhaps she simply
hadn’t discovered a better gem.

Berelman lightly tapped Joyce’s shoulder and said,

“Show what you got in this subjugation. Who knows? If you hack enough ghouls,
maybe she’ll take notice?”

It was a casual remark, but there was an underlying message.

This subjugation mission could be an opportunity for Joyce.

If he could firmly suppress that boy’s ability in front of everyone, demonstrating a

clear advantage,

If he could create a reason for Silveryn to reconsider,

Then a chance might come Joyce’s way. And he was more than confident.

“Fighting ghouls isn’t easy, is it?”

“It’s difficult. But hey, do you think that refined-looking lad has ever encountered a
ghoul?”

A pair of knights should be deployed to face off with a ghoul. They’re tough as nails,
with spines like a porcupine on their back, making it extremely complicated to
combat with a blade.

They possessed enough brute strength to rip a human apart with their bare hands,
there were quite a few knights that Joyce had seen who had been maimed by ghouls,
unable to wield a sword ever again.

Joyce was skillful enough to tackle a ghoul alone if he pushed himself. Youths his age
training at the Academy wouldn’t stand a chance.

Had Silveryn’s apprentice lived in the Weisel region, he would not have even
glimpsed a ghoul.

Just properly dealing with a ghoul would put him at a distinct advantage.

Waiting for the opportune moment, Joyce fiddled with the sword at his waist.

***

Popper waited at the village’s central large intersection. As each report came in from
the scouts who had returned, his face grew heavier and more somber.

Reinforcements seemed inevitable.

If the ghoul was not found, a vast array of troops would need to be indefinitely
stationed in this village.

Watching the situation unfold, Silveryn remarked,

“There’s no easy magical beast. Whether big or small, strong or weak, they’re all
difficult to deal with.”
“When it’s tied to humans, any magical creature becomes a challenge.”

Just form a subjugation team, defeat the magical beast, and be done with it—if only
the situation could resolve that cleanly.

But reality was never that simple.

Silveryn mentioned that just rumors of a magical beast causing a stir could impact
this region.

Thanks to Weisel’s reputation for being safe from magical beasts, traders could
reduce their escort costs and use this place as a commerce route. This village had
thrived quickly as it was situated at a midpoint of trade routes.

If news of a large military presence building a defensive line here spread, commerce
would shrink, leading directly to decreased tax revenue.

The urgency of the subjugation teams to wrap things up quickly was precisely for
this reason.

While this was all going on, there was something I particularly wanted to verify. Now,
as the search parties had finished their tasks and a lull set in while awaiting reports,
the timing seemed just right.

“Teacher.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s something I’d like to check on, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

Upon hearing this, Silveryn gazed into the void, thinking deeply for a moment before
asking,

“Where to?”

“Just a spot that’s been nagging at me.”

Silveryn crossed her arms and eyed me carefully. After a short contemplation, she
said,
“You don’t seem keen on sharing. Well, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but go
check it out anyway.”

“It might be nothing. I’ll be quick.”

“Wait a moment.”

As I was about to leave, Silveryn called out to me and fished something out from her
robe’s pocket, offering it to me.

A small steel ball with an intricate pattern of waves engraved on it caught my

attention.

I took it and examined closely. Between the engraved patterns, I could see an
intricate array of gears and rune characters inside.

“This is a Stitch, a magical device used like a messenger. Just in case, if anything
happens, throw it into the air. It will highlight your location.”

“And if I’m indoors?”

“Doesn’t it look like it’s made just the right size for breaking windows?”

She meant to throw it outside through a window if necessary.

“…Understood.”
“An alchemist lives there.”

“An alchemist?”

“Yes, Weisel is abundant in medicinal herbs, attracting many alchemists. That one
has settled down here.”

“Do they live alone?”

“I’m not quite sure, as the person only comes out every few months. Often, when I
pay a visit, the house is empty. It seems it’s been more than half a year since they’ve
been seen.”

Inquiring the villagers, I learned that the mansion I saw in my dream had no
frequent visitors, only rumors of a reclusive alchemist emerging every few months.

I lingered in front of the mansion’s gate. There wasn’t even a doorbell, as if visitors
weren’t welcomed.

The exterior of the mansion exactly matched that from my dream. It was truly
bizarre why this particular mansion had appeared in my dreams.

But dreams aside, I lacked a plausible reason to enter the mansion. There couldn’t be
anything more suspicious than a stranger suddenly dropping by an alchemist’s
residence. Surely, that reclusive and exclusive alchemist wouldn’t welcome me with
open arms.

I contemplated how to justify my intrusion.

Well, saying I came because of the ghoul problem might just work as a makeshift
excuse.

With no doorbell, I was set on at least shaking the gate.

I grasped the handle of the gate. It was so poorly maintained that I could feel rust
under my grip.

As I shook it, the gate easily swung open.

“Uh?”

The gate wasn’t locked.

I pushed the gate slightly and poked my head through.

“Is anybody home?”

The stones closely paved in the yard were overgrown with weeds poking through the
gaps.

The windows of the mansion were all coated with dust; one even looked so cracked
as if it might shatter at any moment.

It appeared more like a long-abandoned ruin than a place where someone lived, the
whole atmosphere eerily like a haunt for spirits.

I approached the front door.

Even the main entrance appeared neglected, left ajar and unlocked.

This was odd. Had the search team already been here? Unlikely. The team I was with
had been assigned this area, but we had merely passed by this house.

Just in case, I drew my sword.

I walked slowly to the entrance and carefully pulled the door open with the tips of
my fingers before stepping inside.

The interior of the mansion that greeted my eyes almost perfectly matched what I
had seen in my dream. Except for a little more disorder.

The layout was exactly the same. Yet, on the ground, there were picture frames and a
potted plant, completely dried out, scattered about. Had there been a burglary?
If this was an alchemist’s residence, it wasn’t out of the question for thieves to steal
research records.

Or if it wasn’t that… a shiver went down my spine.

I sheathed my ordinary sword; I knew it was inadequate against ghouls.

Every nerve focused, I moved towards the library I had seen in my dream.

Every creak of the wooden floor felt as loud as thunder.

I stood in front of the library door, took a deep breath, and pushed the doorknob.

Even the small movements as the door opened kicked up clouds of dust.

The floor was completely covered in dust; no footsteps suggested it hadn’t been
trodden for years.

I made my way through the densely lined bookshelves, fanning the dust before me.

What are these?

Most of the books were written in languages I had never seen nor heard of, and it
wasn’t just one foreign language; there were many I didn’t recognize.

I randomly grabbed a book and flipped through it. Every page was densely filled with
handwriting and notes. Another book selected at random was the same. Was the
resident alchemist fluent in all these languages?

I recalled the bundle of papers on the desk from the last scene in my dream.

As I emerged from between the bookshelves, the scene before me exactly mirrored
that from my dream—dusty windows and the long desk.

Faced with the unbelievable sight, I closed my eyes and pressed around them as if to
do some acupressure. Then, opening my eyes again, the same view met me. It wasn’t
an illusion. For some reason, this place was imprinted in my mind during my
slumber.

And there was the parchment bundle on the table.

It was covered in a thick layer of dust, but otherwise, it was in good condition.
Normally, such neglected papers would become a feast for mice, but thankfully that
hadn’t happened.

Judging by its thickness, it appeared to be at least 300 pages.

I picked up the bundle and blew the dust off the cover.

[ Research Record ]

Zverev Brunsellov.

This was a book containing the alchemist’s research. Zverev was likely the owner of
this house.

This was the last thing I had seen in my dream.

Why had I seen this research paper in my dream? How was it related to me?

Flipping the cover, I was relieved to find that the language was one I could read.

Looking through the contents of the record, I saw that the 380 pages covered only
four potion recipes.

Flipping through the chapters, I found that midway through, the script shifted to a
language I couldn’t understand.

Oh no.

Only the first two potion recipes at the beginning were readable for me. And
readable only meant the language; the content, filled with terms about processing
methods, combinations of ingredients, and various alchemical symbols, was beyond
my comprehension.

It wasn’t simply a compilation of formulas; it documented the effects and side effects
studies, clinical trials, and detailed the entire process with all its trials and errors.

I skimmed the first potion’s creation process and involuntarily groaned.

It was detailing the human body’s reactions to the unfinished potion.

Images meticulously depicted the experimental subjects—every detail from the
shape of their bodies, hair, wrinkles, even body hair.

Moreover, the drawings showed the subjects restrained with iron chains.

If they’re bound like this, it’s highly probable the subjects didn’t participate willingly.

“Damn it.”

The following pages described the potion’s effects on the body in dry terms.

[ Ocular reaction speed has increased. ]

[ Response time has jumped significantly. ]

[ Sight and hearing have become extremely sensitive. ]

[ Fluorescent substance has concentrated in the iris. Acquired night vision ability. ]

The benefits alone didn’t convey what kind of potion was being created.

I continued to turn the pages.

The subject’s hair had all fallen out, and their skin had burned and healed in a way
that made it stick to the flesh—teeth regrew, and the epidermis thickened.

Their ribs kept growing and deforming, eventually piercing through the back.

Despite the alchemist’s detached tone, the subject’s body was horribly transformed.
Yet there was no mention of any other side effects.

This resemblance… it’s like a ghoul, isn’t it?

I flipped through the pages of the research record.

I skimmed the text with rapid eye movements.

Then I found it.

I read through a particularly telling paragraph explaining the experimental

conditions at the beginning.

[…Due to the difficulty of stable experimental subject procurement, I have

substituted the initial clinical trial subjects with ‘corpses of humans in the process of
ghoulification,’ bearing similar reactions to living humans. ]

I doubted my eyes for a moment.

This deranged alchemist was testing their potion on ghouls.

Employing ghouls right at the heart of the village, this alchemist was out of their
mind.

Although I desperately wanted to finish reading, I closed the record and placed it
safely in my bosom. This was no time to dawdle.

I needed to find the laboratory.

Ghouls despise sunlight so any place with windows could be excluded. No, if there
was any forethought, the lab would be somewhere completely out of sight.

That leaves the basement as the only plausible location.

I silenced my footsteps and exited the library.

I walked slowly down the corridor. There were no windows at the corridor’s end. In
the shadow cast down the stairwell, it seemed to lead underground.

My heart pounded fiercely, as if the sound might echo down the corridor.

I stood before the stairs leading downward and took a deep breath.

Below, darkness enveloped the space where light could not reach.

I began to descend the stairs, feeling my way along the wall.

The stairs went deeper as if crossing two floors.

At the end of the stairs, a hallway stretched out, dimly lit by mana stones embedded
in the ceiling. With the mana stones nearing the end of their life span, their light was
even fainter than that of candles.

And then I heard faint sounds. I held my breath and listened intently.

It was as if something was being chewed and gnawed.

Clearly, something was on the other side.

At the end of the corridor was a thick iron door left slightly ajar.

I approached the door and slowly pushed it open.

The interior, too, was faintly lit by the dying mana stones.

Inside, elongated spaces lined both walls, with iron bars like prison cells.

Enormous magic circles were drawn on the ceiling, but due to parts of the ceiling
caving in, some portions were missing.

In the center lay a hard cross-shaped cot.

Next to it, a ghoul was feasting on the corpse of another ghoul, oblivious to my
presence and engrossed in its meal.

Directly in my line of sight, the brick wall had collapsed, and beyond it, a massive
burrow—the thoroughfare for horses—stretched into darkness with no discernible
end.

“…”

I retrieved the Stitch Silveryn had given me from my pocket.

On my palm, I gently prodded it, unveiling the hidden wings that unfolded gracefully.

The Stitch, buzzing like a hornet, flapped its wings energetically.

I tossed it behind me, and it dashed up the corridor and stairs with a loud whirring
sound.

The ghoul stopped eating and snapped its head around at the raucous buzzing.
For a moment, it stared intently at me, then threw back its head and let out a
howling sound—a mixture of human and tiger-like tones.

Kroooo—oooh—

A brief silence followed.

Dust trickled down from the ceiling.

Then, vibrations felt from the ground.

Drrrrd-d-d-d-d-d—

Countless footsteps began to resonate, shaking the earth.

They were approaching, rapidly getting closer. And from the massive tunnel just in
front of me, ghouls began pouring out.

In no time, the underground laboratory was half-filled with ghouls.

Licking their lips, the ghouls shuffled towards me stealthily.

While my heart raced uncontrollably a moment before, now, oddly enough, I was
alarmingly calm as the tension peaked.

I extended my right hand into the void and closed my eyes.

I didn’t need to look or call out—I could feel it. An indefinable sensation tapping at
my soul, some kind of sixth sense, a presence gently breathing somewhere within
me.

Now, the presence inside me pulsed more strongly than ever. Like an unborn child
eager to break free from the womb, it sought to burst through the confines of my
spirit.

I allowed that existence to be released.

Opening my eyes, a sword of light was clenched in my hand.

“Everyone, assemble and form ranks!”

Commander Popper, riding his horse, busily gathered the knights who were resting.

Popper’s booming command had the knights hastily grabbing their gear and forming
formations.

He raised his sword towards the sky.

This gesture suggested more than just retreating to the outskirts of the village to set
up defenses, it was a signal for an impending battle.

The knights, perceiving his intent, could sense the combat ahead.

Joyce felt this strongly, fueling his fighting spirit.

He scanned the area for Silveryn’s apprentice.

Spotting Silveryn on horseback at the rear of the formation, he noticed her

apprentice was nowhere to be found.

Joyce took it as a good omen.

Without her apprentice’s interference, he could make a definite mark in the coming
battle.

Berelman, Popper’s lieutenant and Joyce’s senior, approached him subtly.

“Joyce, take the front of the column.”

“Understood.”

This was essentially an invitation to shine at the forefront of the battle.

The knights all hurriedly mounted their steeds. They quickly followed Popper, who
set off in haste. The place they arrived at was a two-story house with red walls.

Following Popper’s orders, the troop split into two; Squad 2 was tasked with
surrounding the building. The knights encircled the property, blocking off any
possible escape routes for the ghouls.

Squad 1 was organized for infiltration.

“Conduct a thorough search inside the building and prepare for any ghoul ambush!”

The knights, formed in two lines, broke through the gate into the mansion’s garden.

“Wait! There are sounds coming from inside the mansion!”

All knights stopped in their tracks and listened carefully.

Kwoong— tap tap tap tap

Loud footsteps echoed from inside the mansion, quickly moving towards the
entrance.

Bang!

The mansion’s front door swung open as if about to break, and a ghoul burst out.

“It’s a ghoul!”

All the knights drew their swords and entered battle stance.

The ghoul, undeterred by the encircling knights, charged towards the exit leading
into the village with ferocious determination.

Joyce confidently stepped forward.

“I’ll handle this.”

Hearing his declaration, the other knights paused momentarily before gradually
stepping aside to ensure they wouldn’t obstruct him.
In the blink of an eye, a one-on-one confrontation was established.

The ghoul was covered in blood and in a state of extreme agitation. By nature, ghouls
were inclined to flee when outnumbered, but now it defied its instincts, wildly
lashing out.

It seemed as if it had committed a violent act in its frenzy.

‘Has there been another victim in the meantime?’

Joyce clenched his teeth.

The ghoul attacked without hesitation, leaping and aiming its claws downward at
Joyce’s head as he obstructed its path.

Clang!

Joyce raised his sword above his forehead, parrying the ghoul’s striking claws.

However, the ghoul’s momentum from the air, combined with its sheer weight as it
pressed down, threw Joyce’s upper body off balance. He quickly adjusted his footing
to regain stability.

Though Joyce had blocked the attack, the impact sent a tremendous shock to his
wrist and shoulder.

“Ugh.”

A struggle ensued with the ghoul’s claws clashing against his sword.

Yet, in terms of sheer physical strength, Joyce couldn’t hope to outmatch the ghoul.

He was reaching his limit.

Joyce twisted his sword subtly, dodging to the side while slashing the ghoul’s wrist.

Ssslick!

Blood spurted out.

While he hadn’t completely severed the wrist, Joyce had succeeded in causing it to
bleed.

Kreeeak!

With a ghastly scream, the ghoul recoiled a step back. Blood streamed from its wrist
onto the ground.

Got a hit in.

His brief pride was interrupted.

The ghoul, even more agitated now, recklessly swung its claws at Joyce.

Clang!

Joyce calmly deflected the wild blows.

The claw aimed for Joyce’s chest pushed through with brute force, striking past his
sword.

Now the ghoul, cornered, was attacking with all its desperate strength.

This time, Joyce was forced to step back significantly.

His sturdy steel breastplate was torn as if it were mere paper. Fortunately, his body
was not directly hit.

“Damn.”

Taking a deep breath, Joyce focused on the ghoul’s movements.

Reading the trajectory of its oncoming assault, he bravely positioned his blade to
counter.

Ssslick!

Joyce’s sword glided between the ghoul’s fingers, splitting its hand in two.

Having landed an attack, Joyce pressed the advantage without giving the ghoul a
chance to retreat.

He sliced through the tendons at the ghoul’s shoulder and thrust his blade into its
collarbone.

As the ghoul struggled, immobilized by a single arm, he shouted.

“Now!”

At his call, the knights that were nearby rushed in and thrust their swords between
the ghoul’s back spines in unison.

Accompanied by the unpleasant sound of flesh being pierced, the ghoul’s flailing arm
went limp and dropped.

When the knights withdrew their swords, the ghoul collapsed to the ground.

Catching his breath, Joyce steadied himself.

He had narrowly avoided a serious injury, but nonetheless, he had single-handedly

subdued the ghoul.

Waiting to receive the next command, he glanced back. His gaze met with Popper,
who was observing the situation with dignity from atop his horse. Popper nodded to
Joyce without a word.

Silveryn was also on horseback beside Popper, watching over the situation with a
calm expression.

Silveryn’s apprentice was nowhere to be seen.

Joyce inwardly sneered.

Was the apprentice too fearful to even confront a ghoul from a distance? What could
be more important than ghouls in this situation that would warrant his absence? The
lad was more cowardly than Joyce had assumed.

Popper soon issued a command.

“Enter the mansion and hunt down the ghouls!”

The knights immediately flooded into the mansion. Joyce was at the forefront again.
They efficiently dispersed, meticulously searching through the rooms on the first
and second floors.

A knight shouted.

“There’s a passage to the basement at the end of the corridor!”

Followed by reports from the first and second floors, indicating they found nothing.

Volk, the leader of the infiltration squad, ordered a regroup at the entrance to the
basement stairs.

Leaving the closely gathered knights in the narrow first-floor corridor behind, Joyce
stepped forward and said,

“I will enter first.”

When Joyce was about to descend into the basement hastily, Volk restrained him.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Volk gazed intently at the three claw marks on Joyce’s breastplate.

No matter how exceptional Joyce’s skills were, he was still the junior, significantly
less experienced than the other knights. Letting his eagerness get the better of him
could be dangerous.

He had already narrowly escaped a fatal wound under favorable conditions.

Joyce, sensing Volk’s intention, bowed his head.

“It’s difficult to wield a sword in confined spaces. Avoid engaging in combat in an

unfavorable environment.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.”

Two knights carrying torches hurried into the interior of the mansion. Once visibility
was assured, Volk gave the instruction.

“It’s safe to descend now. Remember, safety is the priority. If you feel outnumbered,
retreat. Archmage Silveryn is watching our backs so there’s no need to be reckless.”

“Understood.”

Joyce took a torch and led the way down the stairs, with Volk closely accompanying
him to provide cover.

At the bottom was a dark liquid pooling like a puddle.

Volk shouted,

“It’s blood. Be careful not to slip, as there’s blood pooled here.”

Joyce studied the accumulated blood carefully. There were no signs of it drying. Joyce
furrowed his brows.

The blood had a thin viscosity, as if it had just been spilled, indicating that some
incident had just occurred. He was now certain that it was fresh blood from a new
victim.

Joyce traced the source of the blood back, looking for where it originated.

Under a partially open iron door at the end of the basement corridor, blood trickled
out in a thin stream.

“It’s here.”

Gripping his sword tightly, Joyce carefully approached the iron door and slowly
pushed it open.

Something that had been leaning against the door tumbled and brushed against his
feet.

The first to greet Joyce was the half-severed corpse of a ghoul.

“…!”
As he shone the torch inside, the whole view of the basement was revealed.

Joyce was momentarily speechless from shock.

The other knights followed suit; they, too, were struck dumb-faced by the sight in the
basement.

Words failed them for a moment.

Dozens of ghoul corpses sprawled across the floor, each one contorted as though
freshly severed.

And in the center, turning his head towards the knights, stood one person. Drenched
in blood from head to toe, he stood there with an exhausted expression.

His face was so covered in blood that it was impossible to identify him.

“You’ve arrived rather early.”

At the sound of his voice, like a bolt of lightning, a particular identity flashed through
Joyce’s mind. It was Damian, Silveryn’s apprentice.

With countless ghouls lying at his feet, his sword was already back in its sheath.

That meant the situation had already concluded.

He managed to face all these ghouls alone?

And without a single injury?

Impossible.

The knights facing him must all be having similar thoughts.

The strength drained from Joyce’s hands, and he almost dropped his sword without
realizing it.

Damian, observing the knights frozen in time, tilted his head curiously. It was as if he
couldn’t understand their dumbstruck expressions.
This monstrous lad showed no sign of comprehending the gravity of his deeds.

At that moment, Joyce finally understood.

Silveryn had no need to canvas the knight’s order for talent.

She had someone with assured talent in her grasp.

Most of the knights had taken the reputation and discernment of an Archmage and
Professor of Eternia too lightly.

Joyce closed his eyes.

He must have been trapped in the small well of Weisel, never seeing the vast world
beyond.

Damian, oblivious to his surroundings, had branded the ‘gap in talent’ into the minds
of the haughty knights.

One of the torch-bearing knights, mouth agape in a daze, suddenly seemed to snap
back to reality as if something had occurred to him.

“…I’ll go report the situation!”

The situation was quickly resolved. Additional troop reinforcements were no longer
needed, but more alchemists were required for the investigation of the incident.

Popper, with his hands clasped behind his back, pushed the front gate open and
entered the mansion. Inside, the knights were carrying wooden beams. The ghoul-
dug tunnels were unstable, and the installation of supports to prevent collapse was
in full swing.

His lieutenant, Berelman, standing by the door, saluted and followed behind him.

“I’ve sought advice from Silveryn.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“The large magic circle on the ceil of the underground laboratory is a kind of barrier
designed with high-level magic. It had been preventing ghouls from escaping
outside, but recently a portion was destroyed, and it seems to have lost its effect.”

“High-level magic, you say…”

Popper’s eyes deepened.

An alchemist versed in high-level magic wasn’t an everyday occurrence.

With the understanding of the alchemist’s intentions still unclear, talk of high-level
magic made for a throbbing headache.

“The magic circle wasn’t designed to prevent escape from the basement itself, but
was set up to prevent passing over the horizontal line where it was drawn. That’s
why ghouls were vigorously digging sideways.”

“They hadn’t anticipated ghouls would break through the wall. Have we confirmed
how far the tunnels extend?”
“A report just came in. It connects to the public cemetery. They have been feeding on
corpses buried underground, and some have been transformed into ghouls and
joined the horde.”

The scenario plausibly explained how the ghouls confined in the laboratory became
such a large group.

Popper nodded as if finally convinced.

“We overlooked the cemetery.”

Had they searched the cemetery intensively, they might have found traces of the
ghouls.

However, Berelman considered it a stroke of luck that they had missed the cemetery
and confronted the ghouls in the basement instead.

The cemetery was akin to a party hub for ghouls. With its open fields and intricate
network of tunnels, it was an optimal environment for them.

“Had the skirmish occurred in the cemetery, the ghouls would have dragged knights
into the tunnels, turning it into a unilateral battle and likely resulting in a major
disaster.”

“Yes, that would likely be the case… Well, we owe a huge debt to that young fellow.”

During their conversation, the front door of the mansion flung open, and an injured
knight was dragged out, aided by others.

The wounded knight, with their lower body drenched in blood, was isolated outside
the main gate.

Watching attentively, Berelman added,

“It’s the doing of the remaining ghouls.”

“Hmm…”

This made for the third casualty.

Not all ghouls had been dealt with. Knights were still struggling to eliminate the
remaining ghouls.

Only after the last one was completely dealt with would the subjugation truly end.

The remaining ghouls, despite their territory being invaded by the knights, did not
attempt to come out from hiding, plagued by fear.

The ones left were all ‘escaped’ ghouls. They were terrified, had run out of the
mansion towards Joyce, then hid in the tunnels, fiercely resisting.

And the fearsome existence that had instilled such terror in those ghouls was…

Popper turned his eyes towards a boy sitting in a corner of the garden.

The boy was nonchalantly washing off blood with water the villagers had brought in
buckets, pouring it steadily over his head.

“That lad’s identity becomes more intriguing by the minute.”

“I agree.”

“Joyce is a prodigy of rare kind. In a few years, he’ll likely be able to manifest his
sword energy, but it seems he still falls short of that lad’s level.”

To reach the stage where one could manifest faint sword energy at the age of twenty
was indeed a prodigious talent.

“…”

Berelman felt ashamed of his past behavior, having lightly followed his colleagues in
undervaluing Damian.

“Bring him some clothing.”

“I’ve already ordered it.”

“How about arranging our order’s uniform for the lad?”

“…That’s a matter that requires Silveryn’s consent. It would be presumptuous to offer

the insignia of our order now, especially since his journey to Eternia is confirmed.”

It would be problematic to rashly bestow the insignia of the knightly order upon
someone under Silveryn’s tutelage.

Popper cut Berelman off with a chuckle.

“Heh heh, indeed. I was merely speaking off the cuff.”

To Berelman, it seemed more than an offhand remark. Popper’s gaze upon the boy
was ablaze as if he had struck gold.

A few hours ago, the knights had scoffed at him. Now they peered at him with a
mixture of awe. The boy did not seem to take any notice of them.

For a while, Popper observed Damian as if he was looking at a mystical creature,

then finally cleared his throat.

“Hmm…”

Popper seemed to have something to say as he slowly approached Damian.

***

Joyce remained in the underground laboratory, examining the scene of the battle.

Questions still clustered in his mind.

The walls and floor. And on the floor were the marks of a sword.

At the very least, during the act of sweeping away the ghouls, there had been no
intervention of magic.

‘How in the world… ’

The firm stone walls and iron bars cut cleanly, as if through cake, with a depth
enough to bury a wrist.

Such feats were beyond pure physical strength.

Could that unremarkable-looking sword truly accomplish this?

Volk, and Joyce’s peer, Felix, were also investigating the scene of the battle.

Felix, due to his inferior experience and skills, had been assisting from the back.

Felix asked Volk,

“What do you think, senior?”

“The trajectory of the sword swings appears quite crude. To be strict, it does not
seem the work of someone trained long in swordsmanship.”

Volk wasn’t underestimating Damian’s abilities or being derogatory.

There was a lot of information recorded at the battle scene. To people who could
read what these records meant, attempting to devalue Damian’s talent was pretty
much a fool’s errand.

Felix mistakenly interpreted the emotionless methodical verification at the scene as

disparaging.

In the current context, he was the only one envying Damian and looking down on
him.

He was inexperienced, and like an adolescent full of knightly dreams, he was

excessively inflated with ego. Not to mention, he was still influenced by the earlier
atmosphere where several senior knights, including Volk, had belittled Damian.

“He must have had incredible luck.”

Volk ignored Felix’s comment, pondered for a moment, and then said,

“It’s either an enchanted sword or a sword imbued with high-level magic.”

Joyce pondered deeply.

“An enchanted sword…”

Felix added,
“If that’s the case, then it’s the sword’s power, not his own skill. He’s just lucky to
have someone backing him.”

To exhibit such power, one needed to skillfully wield sword energy. At the age of
sixteen, with little formal sword training, talk of sword energy was beyond the realm
of talent and contrary to reason.

Having an archmage like Silveryn as a mentor lent some credibility to the enchanted
sword hypothesis.

However, Joyce found it difficult to agree. Though he had never seen Damian draw
his sword, it was likely not an enchanted blade.

An enchanted sword had a short lifespan and needed to be stored in a specially

enchanted scabbard even when not in use to prevent the magic from leaking. Damian
was carrying a plain scabbard.

Moreover, it was highly unlikely that Silveryn would write a recommendation to

Eternia just because Damian owned an enchanted sword, something purchasable
with sufficient money.

There had to be something more substantial.

Volk added one more possibility,

“If not, then it’s a magic sword…”

Joyce nodded slightly at his words.

The term ‘magic sword’ seemed far-fetched, but given all the circumstances, it was
the most persuasive theory.

“Aren’t they the same thing, though? Either way, it’s clear it’s not his own power.”

Felix thought a magic sword and an enchanted sword were the same.

Volk negated his speculation.

“Not at all. It’s the exact opposite.”

“Excuse me?”

Volk didn’t bother to elaborate further for Felix.

Joyce swallowed hard.

‘It could really be a magic sword.’

A magic sword indicated a different dimension of ability and talent.

The main distinction between an enchanted sword and a magic sword was the
presence of a will.

While not complex thinking like a human, each magic sword contained its own ‘will.’

Hence, there were conditions for wielding a magic sword.

The first was to be chosen by the magic sword.

Yet, ‘the magic sword’s choice’ was not an absolute condition. There were
swordmasters who utterly disregarded the choice and will of magic swords yet
wielded them perfectly, though at the cost of severe side effects.

The most critical second condition was to withstand the magic pressure.

Magic swords contained a transcendent amount of densely concentrated magic

power, and when wielded, a magic pressure emanated around it. Hence, untrained
individuals could faint nearby.

Furthermore, the one holding the sword had to endure an entirely different intensity
of magic pressure.

Ignoring this and carelessly gripping a magic sword could result in an individual
fainting, losing consciousness for months, or even becoming an imbecile.

Resistance to magic pressure wasn’t something that could be trained to extend like a
rubber band. To handle a magic sword, one needed an innate resilience.

It felt even a level above erstwhile discussions about sword energy.

Volk too seemed to guess that Damian was a possessor of a magic sword.

If the rumors of the magic sword spread, it could pose a threat to Damian’s safety. Of
course, as long as Silveryn was by his side, he was unlikely to be harmed, but it could
become a major annoyance in many ways.

As if it were nothing, Felix mumbled to himself,

“It’s not that amazing, is it? If I had a magic sword, I could easily deal with ghouls, or
the academy, or just whatever…”

Whether Volk shared Joyce’s thoughts or was just cautioning him, he warned Felix,

“Felix, you haven’t heard anything. The talk of magic swords must remain strictly
confidential.”

“Huh? Oh, yes!… Aghh!”

Felix responded, only to step on a piece of ghoul flesh and tumble down immediately.
His large frame caused a resounding echo.

“Ah, why wasn’t this flesh cleaned up yet.”

Joyce shook his head as he looked down at Felix.

It was evident that Felix, despite experiencing it firsthand, wouldn’t understand.

Would he grasp the meaning of standing unscathed in a place dense with flesh,
blood, thorns, and bones?

What good is holding a magic sword when falling like this could result in ghouls
tearing one’s limbs off in less than a second?

Felix, too, was preparing to enter the academy, lumping everything together with
Joyce.

Strictly speaking, he stood no chance of academy admission. Even his apprenticeship

here was thanks largely to a substantial donation.

Soon, he would likely whine to his father to buy an enchanted sword.

Joyce heaved a deep sigh.

***

Popper, with hands behind his back, approached Damian. His chest was puffed out
and his muscles firm, which made him look much younger than he was.

Damian sat calmly, waiting for Popper to reveal his intentions.

For Damian, it was the first time handling Popper alone without Silveryn by his side.

The knights guarding the mansion had a mountain of questions to ask Damian, and
they all focused their attention on Popper, hoping he would provide answers.

After watching Damian silently for a while, Popper finally spoke.

“Can I see your sword?”

Silveryn had stepped away from her place for a moment to contact the association
regarding this alchemist affair.

Was he taking advantage of her absence to approach me? There didn’t seem to be
any malice, but I had to stay alert for any unexpected questions.

Despite his age, preventing him from directly engaging in the frontlines, his build
was formidable. As he commands the knight order, his experience and discernment
are unmatched.

Any clumsy lies could become poison.

I undid my belt and handed over the sheathed sword to him.

Popper received it and, with practiced motion, drew the blade.

Ching!

The elegant silver blade revealed its form.

He swung it side to side, creating an eight-figure motion, and then held the blade up
against the waning light of the sunset.

Popper’s eyes narrowed. Following his expression, my heart dropped.

“A fine sword, indeed.”

Without much else to say, Popper sheathed the blade and handed it back to me.

Is that all he’ll press for?

I accepted it and said,

“…Thank you.”

“How long have you been studying the sword?”

“…”

It’s a simple yet difficult question to answer. Fabricating my experience felt wrong,
but being too honest could give the impression that I’ve been deceiving the knights.

Popper, noticing my hesitation, chuckled amicably.

“Heh, is it so difficult to say you’ve never had proper lessons!”

“…?”

Popper clapped my shoulder energetically. I looked at him, bewildered.

How did he know? Or was he testing me by asking that question?

Not just me, but the knights overhearing our conversation also showed expressions
of confusion. It’s probably because of what he said about not having learned
swordsmanship.

How much does this elder know? I had to stay on my toes.

“Your master is an old comrade of mine, with whom I’ve shared many battlefields.
I’ve already heard much about you.”

Silveryn had already talked about it. It’s reassuring and yet chilling to know she’s so
closely acquainted with him.

If he’s a veteran capable of sharing battlefields with Silveryn, he could dissect every
aspect of how I handle a sword just by watching.

“It is an honor to meet a comrade of my master.”

“Heh, the honor is mine. You’ve done a great deed. We owe you, no, the entire village
owes you a debt.”

“It’s all thanks to my esteemed master.”

Popper, wearing a gentle smile, said,

“Your master hinted that you achieved everything on your own. Whose words should
I take as truth?”

“…”

It’s strange, it almost feels like Silveryn has orchestrated everything. From handing
me the Stitch when I was leaving to arranging this private meeting with Popper by
subtly stepping away.

“While it’s commendable to credit your master, we are clear on whom the honor
belongs to. You’ve earned this credit, and rightfully, you should choose the reward.”

“I’ve merely done my duty. I warrant no reward.”

Popper spoke in a persuasive tone.

“Do you intend to leave a debt with our knight order?”

A cold sweat ran down my spine.

“I was hasty.”

“Speak, then. What do you require? I can provide you with a useful artifact or gold
coins.”

It’s truly generous of him to offer a reward so readily, yet I have absolutely no sense
of how valuable this deed of mine is considered.

It’s my first time experiencing such a thing.

Given this scarce opportunity, I wanted to obtain the most useful compensation.

Artifact or money. While either would be nice, neither is particularly useful to me.

Yet demanding too much could diminish the merit of what I’ve done, making the
situation incredibly awkward.

Silveryn, the only person I could consult with, was away.

It’s not that nothing was needed; it was a matter of deciding if it was appropriate.

Hmm, there is assistance I require from the knight order, but how to go about it?

Strictly speaking, the knight order and I merely cleaned up after a deranged
alchemist. The alchemist is the one who should be compensating me.

However, to extract compensation from that alchemist, I desperately needed the help
of the knight order.

What I urgently needed was…

“I require griffin blood.”

Popper’s pupils dilated. He must be surprised, bypassing good items for griffin
blood, of all things.

Instead of responding immediately, he quietly brushed his beard.

Griffin blood was one of the many ingredients listed in Zverev’s potion recipes.

While reading through the research records, one potion in particular caught my
greedy interest.

There were quite a few herbs in the ingredients list that had unfamiliar names, and I
couldn’t tell which ones would be difficult to procure. However, considering Weisel
draws alchemists in search of various herbs, I dismissed those from the list.

Out of all the ingredients required for those many potions, ‘griffin blood’ was the
only one that wasn’t a herb.

Griffins were rare creatures in Weisel, so it was impossible to procure the blood
here. I would need to go through merchants.

Yet I didn’t even know where griffins resided, let alone which merchant would
supply a 16-year-old with such ingredients from afar. Convincing would be one task,
and even if I succeeded, they’d likely charge me a hefty premium.

If the knight order handled it for me, it would be resolved immediately. With their
extensive reach, they could procure a generous amount.
I gauged Popper’s reaction.

The way he’s looking at me… his eyes are gleaming. It seems like a good sign, but it’s
uncomfortably burdensome.

“Planning another interesting project, I presume.”

Whatever it is, he seems to have some expectations of me.

“Griffin blood is not difficult to provide. I won’t inquire about how you’ll use it. I’m
looking forward to what you’ll be up to. Hahaha.”

“Thank you. I will do my best to meet your expectations.”

It’s burdensome.

Knights began pouring out from the interior of the mansion.

One of the knights approached Popper and made a report.

“Subjugation of the remaining ghouls is complete.”

“Good.”

Just in time, attendants arrive with the clothing I’m to change into.

“Let’s wrap this up. You’ve all worked hard.”

As Popper turned to leave, he seemed to have one last thing to say to me.

“Ah, I’m planning to hold a social gathering soon, and I’d like you to attend.”

“I would be honored. I wouldn’t dream of refusing.”

Darn, a social gathering. I’d rather be pushing logs and drenched in ghoul blood.

Popper departed with his aides. It seemed things were finally coming to a close.

Before me, several knights who had not followed the commander remained.
Among them were Knight Joyce, with whom I was acquainted, and a bulky fellow
who appeared to be about my age was watching me intently.

When our eyes met, Joyce gave me a slight bow and then left. The bulky one beside
him looked down at me unpleasantly and followed Joyce.

Having gone through so much in just one day, I didn’t have the patience to worry
about every little thing.

I quickly changed clothes and stepped out of the gate.

The knights were moving in a line toward the wide crossroads at the village center.

And there, on one side of the road, was Silveryn, holding the reins of a horse, waiting
for me.

My suspicions had almost turned to certainty.

Was she already here but decided to stay out of sight on purpose?

As I approached her, Silveryn spoke quietly.

“You’ve done well, my apprentice.”

“You’re a bit late.”

A slight smile formed on Silveryn’s lips at my rebuke.

She spoke with playful ease.

“Go ahead and mount first.”

After I mounted the horse, Silveryn followed suit.

We, too, followed the procession of knights towards the crossroads.

While riding, I couldn’t contain my curiosity and spoke up.

“You knew all along, didn’t you, teacher?”

“Knew what?”

“About the ghouls that were hiding in that mansion.”

“Yes. I had my suspicions. There was residual magic in the barrier, after all.”

“…”

“I left you there just in case, to see how you would handle it, but I didn’t expect you’d
take care of everything on your own.”

I was momentarily speechless.

“The knight order wouldn’t have just let it go. So, you swooped in, took all the credit
for yourself, and what did you get as a reward?”

You don’t know yet?

“I asked for money.”

Silveryn suddenly released the reins. The horse stopped, and she fell silent for a
moment.

Then Silveryn pinched my cheeks forcefully.

“Ouch!”

“Already trying to deceive your master?”

She knew everything and acted otherwise? Now it was starting to get a bit scary.

“I won’t do that again.”

I promise I won’t do it again, please.

This is bad. If she finds out about the research notes I’ve taken as well, I’m done for.
I’ll have to keep this a secret for a while.

Silveryn eventually ceased her ‘massage’ of my cheeks.

My cheeks were still stinging.

“I should learn to ride horses properly soon.”

“You have a long way to go before escaping my grasp, my apprentice.”

Human beings are said to be creatures of adaptation. Although I never showed it,
riding with Silveryn was becoming increasingly comfortable.

I had to get away before I got completely used to it. I can’t keep this up all the way to
the academy.

At the wide crossroads in the center of the village, the knights stood in formation.

Villagers surrounded them from a distance, watching the scene unfold.

We kept a certain distance and stopped on one side of the formation.

Popper declared the completion of the ghoul subjugation to the villagers.

They’d now leave just the necessary manpower and return to their original places.

But the villagers were murmuring about us.

The snippets I overheard were about me: the disciple of a great archmage, a genius
swordsman, and so on.

The rumors had spread already.

“You’ve become somewhat famous, haven’t you?”

“They’re making too much of a fuss over me.”

It was embarrassing hearing all of it.

“This place is too peaceful. So whenever there’s something about magical beasts,
they make a big fuss over it. Just accept it, what can you do.”

Silveryn didn’t seem to mind the commotion that much.

Thus, finishing our tasks earlier than anticipated, we set out for Silveryn’s residence.

The sun had already set, and we were making our way guided by the moonlight.

Silveryn shared unfinished stories while enjoying the starlight.

“I inquired with the alchemy association, and there was no record of an alchemist
named Zverev.”

“Then what is it?”

“If not listed in the association, his research cannot be protected, which implies he’s
probably up to no good. The name Zverev is also likely a pseudonym.”

“What will you do, teacher? Will you continue the investigation?”

Silveryn sighed deeply.

“Regardless of what I do, you no longer need to be involved. You won’t have the time
to worry about such matters anymore.”

“…Why? Is there something else?”

“As I was communicating with the magical academy, the reply to the
recommendation I sent for you to the academy arrived.”

“…What?”

“The examiners from the academy are coming to Weisel to see you.”
Silveryn discarded the robe she had been wearing.

A maid followed her, picking up the robe that was sprawled on the floor. Another
maid with a silver tray in hand caught up to Silveryn’s side.

Silveryn removed her earrings, necklace, bracelet, and rings one by one and placed
them on the silver tray. Each piece of jewelry bore a gem of a different color, and
there were more than ten pieces if one were to count just the accessories.

Some were imbued with the highest level of magic enchantments, and selling just
one of them could afford a house to spare.

Being exceedingly sensitive to magic, even the slightest magical residue contained
within the artifacts would irritate her. She had to cast it all off, leaving nothing
behind.

Stripped of all such trivial adornments and clothing, Silveryn stepped into the
bathroom. In the center of the bathroom stood a large bathtub filled with steaming
water.

She entered the bathtub, completely bare.

This moment was when Silveryn could truly relax.

Silveryn sprawled herself out in the bathtub.

Yet, even in such a rare moment of respite, she couldn’t relax completely and have
peace of mind. The gnarled knots in her head continuously grazed her nerves.

Damian, having heard about the Masters Class, initially seemed flustered but soon
accepted it calmly.

A soft murmur from Damian lingers in Silveryn’s mind.

‘I can do well.’

Whether it was the ghoul subjugation or the Masters Class examination, it was all the
same to her.

Even if Damian were to fail the examination, it wouldn’t be a considerable

disappointment to her.

There wouldn’t be any big problem in Damian’s life either.

In fact, failing the exam would make his academy life smoother since the Masters
Class involved a grueling process.

Failing the exam didn’t mean cancellation of admission. With her guidance, entering
the academy would be no issue.

Even if he finished last, as long as he obtained a diploma from Eternia, his future was
bright. An Eternia diploma held immense value, unexchangeable even for a noble
title.

The issue lay within Damian himself.

He was diligent in learning, with good comprehension, and often followed Silveryn’s
words well. Just a little incitement, and he would unfold his sails and journey far on
his own.

No rough edges marred his character, and he didn’t rebel.

Though still unpolished at times, he was adept at looking out for his own advantages.

Teaching him wasn’t as satisfying as it could be, but his attempts to achieve things on
his own were admirable.

‘There’s nothing wrong.’

And that was precisely the problem.

A smooth-sailed and healthy persona typically reflected noble children who grew up
in affluent environments with unconditional parental love, not a typical aspect of
orphans.
Most orphans inevitably live with hefty trauma that is too much to bear, as they are
all abandoned by their parents.

Growing up as an orphan and fending for himself at a young age, it was highly likely
Damian’s insides were damaged in various ways.

He might be hiding issues and pushing himself to prove his worth just to avoid being
abandoned again.

Or maybe he’s always nurturing his abilities with the looming thought of being
discarded someday.

Either way, it was just as pitiable.

‘Did Damian have friends…?’

He didn’t seem to long for any friends after coming alone to a distant place. Nor did
he seem to regard friends as important.

He also didn’t talk much about his past, as if hiding something carefully.

If there was a need, it would be normal to lean on someone a little, but Damian tried
to accomplish everything on his own, even if he had to force it.

There seemed to be no issues, but everything he was holding together could come
crashing down with just one small failure.

Silveryn watched the void with weary eyes and absentmindedly twirled her long hair
with her fingers.

‘It wouldn’t be so bad to act more like a child sometimes.’

***

Training resumed the very next day.

The upcoming Masters Class examination didn’t significantly change the training
method.

The usual foundation of endurance, strength, and footwork exercises continued

throughout the morning.

Damian, who should be exhausted from the continuous high-intensity repetition

training, followed along without complaints. He seemed even more enthusiastic,
perhaps reflecting on the ghoul subjugation.

Such foundational endurance and strength would shine during the entrance exams
of Eternia.

Damian didn’t know, but any student who received a recommendation letter is
guaranteed admission simply by participating in the entrance exam. Damian
believed he’s getting additional points, but Silveryn thought to keep it that way for
motivation.

Nonetheless, the higher the scores, the better the living and learning facilities that
would be provided, so it was beneficial to score highly.

With limited time, the focus had to be on training that could produce significant
results swiftly.

‘It’s not the time to concentrate on swordsmanship.’

He had to learn how to engage in combat with a sword eventually, but it was not
currently very practical.

Thanks to the magic sword Damian wielded.

Without being surrounded by sword energies, it would be impossible to even receive

the magic sword.

Time passed quickly. After a wholehearted training session, the day had reached its
zenith.

After lunch, Silveryn and Damian returned to the training field.

There, a maid stood with an hourglass in hand.

Damian looked puzzled, prompting Silveryn to say,

“I’m going to start timing you now.”

“What kind of timing?”

“How long you can maintain your sword.”

If there was a way to achieve the most results in a short time, it was undoubtedly by
increasing the duration for which the magic sword could be maintained. The magic
sword unleashed tremendous power but could only be summoned for a very limited
time.

She motioned the maid to move away. Then, to Damian, she said,

“Stand still.”

Once the maid found a safe distance and place, Silveryn placed her hand on Damian’s
chest.

She intended to observe the flow of magic within Damian’s body.

“Summon your sword now.”

Understanding the situation, Damian glanced at Silveryn once and then closed his
eyes.

Shortly after, a light emanated from Damian’s hand and a radiant sword of brilliant
luster materialized.

Silveryn looked towards the maid, who flipped the hourglass.

She concentrated on the hand resting on Damian’s chest.

After summoning the sword, Damian was being pressed by an overwhelming

magical pressure.

Even if one could skilfully handle sword energy, this level of magic pressure wasn’t
something easily endured.

‘The force is much stronger than I thought?’

Her words implied that the amount of magic concentrated in the magic sword
greatly exceeded her expectations.
It was curious to see Damian bear such pressure without showing any signs of
knowing.

One minute, two minutes.

While holding her breath, Silveryn checked Damian’s condition.

The magic inside Damian began to dwindle.

‘It’s even taking the little bit of magic he has.’

As expected, the magic sword was draining Damian’s own magic.

But what was puzzling was that the quantity of magic being drained wasn’t that
large.

Compared to the average person, the total volume of magic Damian could contain
was lower. If the vessel were considered, it would take him about 6-7 years just to
perform basic magic.

Considering the amount of magic Damian possessed, the magic extracted by the
magic sword was essentially trivial.

‘Something’s not right.’

The magic pressure from the sword was getting stronger, but the amount Damian’s
magic declined was minimal.

‘Which means it’s drawing magic from an external source then.’

Even Silveryn could not detect the origin of this energy.

His magic was diminishing and approaching its limit.

Damian’s heart began to throb as if squeezed. Simultaneously, the light of the magic
sword wavered.

His body was starting to be burdened.

“That’s enough. Cancel the summoning.”

The sword disappeared, and Damian staggered. If Silveryn hadn’t caught him, he
would have fallen over.

Turning her head to check the time, she noticed the maid sitting on the dirt floor. The
magic pressure had affected even the maid who was at a distance.

Damian detached himself from Silveryn’s supporting arm and said,

“I’m okay.”

“Wait a moment.”

Silveryn approached the maid and examined the hourglass. Luckily, the maid had
marked the remaining sand.

Silveryn approached Damian, supported him to a rock, and seated him.

She checked the marks on the hourglass and then spoke,

“I’ve found out a few things about you and your sword. Don’t answer; just listen.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t answer. You’re currently in a state of magic depletion. You’ll be without energy
until tomorrow, so we’ll end today’s training here.”

“I can still go on.”

“You can manage that sword for a stable time of about 7 minutes and 30 seconds.
Considering strenuous movements, it drops to 6 minutes, and if you were firing
sword blasts, even less.”

“It felt longer than that.”

Silveryn pinched Damian’s cheek.

“I told you not to respond. This is why you need to conserve your sword. If you don’t
finish within 6 minutes, you’ll die. The sword should always be your last resort.”

Damian nodded.
“From now on, we’ll train to maintain the magic sword longer. That’s the priority for
now.”

Silveryn released his pinched cheek and sighed. If Damian were to walk now, it might
be too strenuous.

It was fascinating how he had managed to wield the sword until now.

“I’ll call someone over, so just wait here.”

“I’m really okay.”

It wasn’t just for show.

Contrary to Silveryn’s concerns, Damian shook off the dirt and stood up, stretching
out his body.

For someone drained of magic, he moved with surprising lightness.

Silveryn watched him with a perplexed expression.

When magic depletes, it strains the body. For someone who doesn’t train in magic, it
would typically take three to four days to fully recover.

“What’s with you… you’re drained, yet how are you doing this?”

Damian also seemed perplexed by Silveryn’s reaction.

“I usually recover quickly…”

“Just wait.”

Silveryn once again placed her hand on Damian’s chest.

She paused and measured the magic within him for a moment.

Tilting her head in puzzlement, she found that the magic that should have been
depleted was completely restored.

“…?”
‘Has it all recovered?’

His capacity for harboring magic was below average, yet his recovery rate was as
good as that of a high-level magician.

‘Could it be?’

The puzzle in Silveryn’s mind started to fit together.

The secret behind the vast magic absorbed by the magic sword lay in Damian’s
astonishing regenerative capacities. The magic sword pulled in as much as it could,
but his body immediately produced new magic in response.

This was unusual. The capacity for magic and the ability to regenerate it usually
grow in tandem and proportionally, an inseparable pair.

Having high regeneration yet a small vessel was extremely rare, suggesting postnatal
factors had intervened to affect abilities.

Silveryn’s eyes narrowed as she watched Damian.

‘Could it be… ’
Silveryn was deep in thought. Although she couldn’t give a definitive answer yet,
there was something she strongly suspected.

She briefly allowed a long-forgotten memory to surface.

Pressing Damian would be meaningless. Asking him why his magic regeneration
ability was so powerful would leave Damian also without words since he knew
nothing about magic.

With her hands clasped behind her back, Silveryn gently caressed one of the rings on
her finger. It was one of the highest-grade artifacts she owned.

Using the artifact, she could delve into Damian’s past hidden within him.

However, if she were to use force to dredge up his darkest places, their relationship
would forever be destroyed.

And Damian might close the door to his heart and never emerge from within his cave
again.

‘Now is not the time.’

Silveryn removed her hand from the ring.

“Teacher?”

Damian wore a worried expression as he looked at the maid sitting collapsed on the
ground. She was clutching at her chest and struggling to breathe heavily.

“Is she… okay?”

He had no idea that he was the one who had caused this.
“No, it will be hard for her to walk on her own. I’ll call for someone, so wait here.”

Damian seemed to have no concept of the magical pressure he exerted. It wasn’t a

difficult thing to explain, so she would enlighten him later.

Silveryn took out a Stitch. She needed to summon a servant to take the maid away.

“I’ll do it. There’s no need to trouble yourself.”

Damian rushed over to the maid and offered his back for her to lean on.

The maid blushed and waved her hands in refusal, but unable to win against
Damian’s insistence, she reluctantly leaned on his back.

Damian easily lifted the maid and stood up, looking at Silveryn as if to ask when they
were leaving.

Not so long ago, when starting his training, he himself was struggling with muscle
pain and relied on the maid for support. Now, after completing all training and
depleting his magic, he had carried the very maid who had supported him.

He was growing.

This made the corners of Silveryn’s lips curve up faintly.

‘It turns out raising him is quite rewarding after all.’

***

Rows of meticulously groomed garden plants lined the pathway, and at the end of
this path stood a stark white grand mansion.

The uniformity of the dozens of plants denoted meticulous care, making each step
through the garden feel like deja vu.

The landscape ingrained a compulsive impression of landscaping on her.

A butler was out to meet her.

“It is an honor to meet you.”

Fear was evident on the butler’s face, even as he tried to hide it, facing a grand
magician.

Even though they had specifically requested Silveryn’s help.

“Where is Lord Railles, and why has the steward come out to greet me?”

Silveryn’s unreserved address to a lord, paired with a face that looked thirty years
younger than the house’s great family lineage, put the steward on the spot.

Despite such unabashed speech, the steward was cowed into making awkward
excuses.

“Faced with unavoidable circumstances, he has responded to a royal summons.”

“Cowards, the lot of them.”

“If you’ve been inconvenienced, I apologize sincerely, Miss Silveryn.”

“Seems Lord Railles has given up entirely, hasn’t he?”

Despite being a matter involving their only blood relative, they had put a proxy in
place. It felt as though they were treating it as a mere trifle.

“…The lord is always giving his best.”

Silveryn laughed derisively.

Guided by the steward inside the grand mansion, Silveryn was led on.

“This way, please.”

The steward stopped before a door at the end of the corridor.

“The young lady is inside here.”

Silveryn swung the door wide open and examined the interior.

In this room, devoid of any furniture and even windows, there sat a young girl
around ten years old, sitting by herself.
She was sitting with legs straight out in front of her, waving her arms in the air as if
they were touching something.

This girl belonged to the Railles family, empire’s greatest spirit summoner lineage.

She was Luna, a genius spirit summoner with the Railles family’s ‘Blessing of the
Spirit King’ passed down through generations.

Chattering as if she were speaking something, she acted as if she was playing with
the air. However, it was as if a thick glass wall stood in front of Luna; not a single
sound from her reached outside.

Luna would sweep her arms through the empty air as if playing, and then burst into
giggles.

To the steward’s eyes, it might seem as though Luna was playing with ghosts.

But Silveryn could feel it.

Her room was filled with spirits.

And the language of the spirits that Luna was shouting.

A girl who had learned the language of spirits before that of humans.

A child who had long refused to communicate with humans.

Even Luna’s own parents couldn’t communicate with her.

Luna’s parents, who were affiliated with the Eternia Academy, had selected Silveryn
for help, and so she found herself in the grand Railles family estate.

The room in its entirety was Luna’s domain.

And Silveryn stepped boldly into Luna’s domain without regard. Anyone else would
have been immediately attacked by the spirits.

Luna then reacted by looking at Silveryn irritably.

She shouts for the spirits to hurry and throw out this intruder.
But the spirits do not move; they all look at Silveryn, fear-stricken.

Luna is bewildered.

These spirits could not touch Silveryn.

Because in their eyes, Silveryn was a being ‘higher’ than Luna.

Luna becomes frightened and retreats backward to avoid Silveryn.

Pressed against the wall, Luna’s expression twists.

Finally, in tears, Luna begins screaming someone’s name.

Thud thud thud thud.

From down the corridor, a maid hastens into Luna’s territory.

She is a young maid of an age just having reached adulthood.

The maid hugs Luna and soothes her in the language of the spirits.

Silveryn watches this with a look filled with intrigue.

Seeing a maid using the language of the spirits is an extremely rare sight.

Silveryn speaks to the steward.

“Does this family employ even the servants as spirit summoners?”

“Not at all. Sonia has never learned spirit summoning; she is merely a servant who
has been with the Railles family since she was young.”

“How does a mere servant speak the language of the spirits?”

“Neither I nor even Sonia herself understand that.”

According to the steward, Sonia was the only person Luna had ever opened her heart
to.
Luna and Sonia’s relationship had endured for nearly ten years.

Sonia said that during the initial years of caring for Luna, she could neither see
spirits nor understand their language. However, at some point, she began to
comprehend the language of spirits and even managed to control some of the lesser
spirits.

For Silveryn, this phenomenon was also a first encounter. The meeting of two
talented spirit summoners raised questions—attributing the awakening of innate
talent in Sonia to their encounter alone seemed statistically improbable.

***

After finishing dinner and a bath, Silveryn was seated at the balcony table. Night had
deepened, and it was soon time to sleep.

On Silveryn’s table lay a letter from Luna. A few years after receiving Silveryn’s help,
Luna had been sending annual letters of well-being to her.

According to recent news, Luna was on the verge of entering the Eternia Academy.

While Silveryn read each of Luna’s letters, she had never sent a response. To her,
Luna was just one of many figures passing casually through the trivialities of daily
life, and she had no intention of emotionally engaging with her.

Yawning, Silveryn went back to flipping through her magical research papers and
notes.

She never thought she’d revisit this once dull topic.

The phenomenon similar to Sonia’s case had been reported to the magical
association and had been the subject of earnest research for the past few years.

The reason Sonia came to learn spirit summoning was due to a phenomenon known
as ‘magical power transference,’ which occurred when a person with magical talent
maintained a strong bond and deep connection with someone over an extended
period.

‘Magical power transference’ could be described, simply put, as a blending of magical

abilities due to over-attunement.
Ironically, this was not a new discovery.

For centuries, families from long-established lineages of magicians had been

utilizing ‘magical power transference.’

It was a public secret amongst these magical families.

These families would identify a child with innate ‘authority’ within their bloodline
and force a marriage within the family.

By doing so, they sought to ensure that the authority’s power was completely bound
to the family and maximized the familial gains that could be obtained through the
authority by inducing ‘magical power transference’ through the enforced bond.

Of course, because it was forced, the effects were minimal. Yet they considered this
much preferable to sharing the authority with outsiders.

Silveryn suspected that Damian’s aberrant growth in magical power was due to
‘magical blending’ with someone who had authority.

Sonia’s spirit summoning skills had also grown aberrantly.

The language of spirits was an ability that unfolded through a contract with mid-tier
spirits. Yet, she spoke the language while barely managing to control only lesser
spirits.

A discrepancy similar to Damian’s—small in magical capacity yet exceptional in

regenerative capability.

Assuming that Damian’s ability resulted from ‘magical power transference,’ Silveryn
pondered the depth of the bond and the intensity of the connection required to
generate such regenerative powers.

For Damian, with below-average magical aptitude, to awaken high-level abilities…

There was not a single case in the association’s records where ‘magical power
transference’ had developed abilities up to a high rank.

‘It’s too strange.’

The more concretely Silveryn imagined it, the more her head throbbed, and she
found herself massaging her temples. Even distaste began to creep in.

More than just a favorable bond, they must have reached into the realm of pain.

A desire for each other so strong it was almost suffocating, enough to cause pain.

Such a bond would have to be maintained for nearly nine or ten years.

It was too far-fetched a tale.

***

Haman’s workshop.

This had been Damian’s place of work until a few months ago.

Ordinarily, at such a late hour, the workshop should have been deserted, but this
time it was different.

The workshop was filled with people.

All had their arms and legs bound with ropes, filling up the workshop in a line.

These were all Damian’s former colleagues and teachers at the workshop. Among
them were orphans who lived with Damian at the Lorelai Manor.

They were trembling with extreme anxiety.

Standing opposite to them were five hooded figures with masks covering their faces.

Above their heads, hundreds of ice spikes, each the size of a human forearm, floated
aimlessly, aiming at the bound people.

At the center of these masked figures stood a woman with long silver hair, holding a
lengthy staff. To Damian, it was a somewhat familiar shade of silver.

And she was pointing the staff at the neck of Damian’s former workshop mentor.

“Where is Damian?”
Her whole body shuddering, she shook her head.

The staff then turned to an orphan who lived with Damian at the Lorelai Manor.

Likewise, tears streaming down, he gave a shake of his head.

“…”

As if drained from despair, the staff in the woman’s hand slowly dropped, her gaze
turned towards the floor.

Then, in an instant, the hundreds of ice spikes rushed toward the people they
targeted.

Screams filled the workshop, and within moments, it had turned into a bloodbath.

The other masked figures summoned orbs of fire in their hands and hurled them
around.

The workshop was engulfed in flames in the blink of an eye, and the roof started to
collapse.

And that was when Damian awoke from his nightmare.

A violent downpour beat against the balcony doors. Dawn had yet to break.

“Damn it…”

His whole body was slick with sweat. The dream. That damned dream again.

He had once worried for a time. How could he distinguish between the dreams that
were divine revelations and those that were mere figments of his imagination?

Now he thought he wouldn’t be able to mistake one for the other. The supposed
revelations seared into his mind like branding iron.

The horrific scene at the workshop was still etched in his memory.

The hooded figures seemed to be gathering people related to him and searching for
his whereabouts.

The woman’s familiar silver hair, which he felt he could never forget in his lifetime,
looked just like Liza’s.

It pained his heart to dredge up a name he had temporarily buried.

Was Liza looking for him?

Months ago, he might have been overjoyed. He would have excitedly rushed off to
find her before she found him.

Since separating from Liza, he had indulged in the delusion of her returning to him
hundreds of times.

The imaginations were sweet, but he knew all too well that those fantasies could
never become reality.
Liza had no reason to abandon her stability and greater happiness to seek him out.

And now, he, too, had no intention of going back.

No matter how he thought about it, there was no reason for Liza to come looking for
him.

Yes, it couldn’t be Liza. He didn’t want to believe it.

He didn’t want to reunite like that.

Silver hair wasn’t unique to Liza.

When the source of magic blooms to maturity, the hair of the Pascal lineage turns
silver, just like Liza’s. The orchestrator of the ordeal could belong to the Pascal family.

He had no idea what business they had with him, but it was within the realm of
possibility since they probably harbored ill will towards him.

They seemed willing to harm people dear to him to get to him.

The priests and nuns of the Acates temple. As long as they were involved with him,
they too were in danger.

That meant he needed to take action first.

But how?

What could he do?

No clear method came to mind.

***

Silveryn gazed out the window for a moment. When the season changes, it always
brings heavy rain.

As it gets colder, it’s harder to gather herbs. Before winter arrives, she had to stock
up the storeroom with herbs.
A maid brought a potion, the steam wafting from it, supported in thick cloth.

“How much supplies are left?”

“Only enough for two weeks.”

They had exhausted most of the potion supplies on Damian and the girl.

There was quite a bit to do.

She looked at the girl lying in the bed. She hadn’t regained consciousness since
suffering shock from the ghoul attack.

Silveryn called for the butler. The butler approached her.

“It’s about time for Damian to get up, tell him there’s no training today. And prepare
a carriage to visit the village.”

“Understood.”

Moments later, the butler hurried back to Silveryn with a sense of urgency.

He was panting heavily.

“Master Damian has disappeared.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ve searched the entire estate, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

Silveryn sighed.

***

Silveryn, an umbrella in hand, walked along the lakefront. The rain was so fierce she
could hardly see a few steps ahead. The umbrella was nearly useless against the
torrential downpour.

Arriving at her destination, Silveryn encountered the training grounds where a boy,
drenched like a soaked rat, was moving logs. It was Damian.
The logs, soaked with water and sticking into the mud, were stubborn. His feet slid
and dug through the mud as he pushed. It was a losing battle, but he seemed
determined not to give up.

His shoulders, forearms, and side had been scraped raw against the tree bark, mixing
with rainwater to stain them red.

It was both pitiful and almost excruciating to witness.

Perhaps because of the noisy rain, Damian was unaware that Silveryn was observing
him from nearby.

A troubled expression painted Silveryn’s face.

“We have enough firewood for use till next spring.”

With that, Damian finally turned his head.

“Thanks to someone working hard.”

“…Teacher.”

Damian’s face was shadowed.

Silveryn glanced at the bloodied chunks of wood.

“Sigh, this is why I said not to train on rainy days. What am I supposed to do if you go
out early without saying anything?”

Silveryn slightly lifted the hem of her skirt. Despite the umbrella, the wind had
soaked most of her dress.

“Now my dress for going out is all ruined.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was something off about Damian’s face.

This was not the Damian that Silveryn knew.

She was aware that Damian had a dark past he couldn’t discuss, but she had never
seen his inner darkness overshadow him as heavily as it did now.

“Damian, what’s wrong?”

“…”

Silveryn’s expression tensed.

Something had definitely happened.

“It’s nothing.”

She moved closer to Damian. She cared little that her feet sank into the mud, staining
her dress.

Then she stood in front of him, stooping slightly to meet his eye level.

With one hand, she touched his cheek and then, using her thumb, wiped away the
trickling raindrops.

“You don’t realize how fortunate you are. I don’t just take any student.”

“…”

“You’re still too young to truly grasp what responsibility means. It’s only when you
grow older, gain status and power, that you realize the weight of responsibility.”

“…”

“Listen. I didn’t just bring you along. I brought you with the intent to take
responsibility for you.”

Silveryn spoke with a soothing tone.

“So now, you can rely on your teacher.”

Finally, after a long silence, Damian lifted his head.

***
Damian and Silveryn were on their way back to the mansion.

Damian spoke to Silveryn about the dream. The hooded figures in his dream. People
kidnapped to find Damian’s whereabouts. And the massacre.

Even a foreboding sense that this dream might come true.

He left out the part about Liza.

“That could be a prophecy. Since you stayed at the Acates temple, there’s a slight
possibility. But don’t put too much faith in dreams. Seeing the future is not as rare
and profound as you might think.”

“It’s not rare?”

“Don’t all children with magical talent see the future?”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Those children see the future from infancy. So clearly they can’t distinguish it from
reality.”

To Damian, the explanation was hard to accept.

“As they grow a bit, learn language, and start to acquire human knowledge, their
souls begin to be tainted, and their ability completely disappears. Once their brains
develop, they forget entirely that they could see the future.”

“Magic is a baffling thing.”

“Right. And the prophetic dream is what comes out when that power is dying. By
that time, it’s all jumbled up with the subconscious; imprecise and useless.”

“…!”

“Your dream is just a dying prophecy. It might have some use if you utilize it
properly.”

Though it was ‘dying,’ to Damian it was valuable information.

“Still, I want to prepare thoroughly.”

“How do you plan to prepare?”

Silveryn’s question plunged Damian into contemplation.

For her part, Silveryn seemed to give up on sheltering from the rain as she folded her
umbrella amidst the torrential downpour.

The little that remained dry of Silveryn’s upper body and hair was now soaked.

She seemed to be in high spirits, charging ahead and jumping into puddles with both
feet.

The puddled rainwater splashed in all directions.

Following that, Silveryn kicked at the puddles, enthusiastically splashing water at

Damian.

“This is for getting my outing dress wet.”

Droplets from the puddle splashed all over Damian’s body. However, it was a futile
gesture as he was already drenched through.

“Teacher…?”

Could one really become so innocently joyful in such a situation?

He called her with a stunned expression, and only then Silveryn returned to the main
point, though she kept kicking water around.

“You just do what you normally do. What’s there to worry about when I’m here?”

“If we just keep hiding like this, those people will find and threaten those close to
me.”

Silveryn stopped splashing her feet and looked at him meaningfully.

“No, you’re not hiding.”

“…?”

Without explaining further, Silveryn playfully changed the subject.

“We need to hurry up and get the herbs.”

Then she turned briskly and walked off ahead.

***

A black carriage entered the town’s market street. Due to the ceaseless rain, the
streets were deserted.

The carriage stopped in front of a small shop.

The coachman stepped down, opened the carriage door and held up an umbrella to
shield from the rain, waiting patiently.

Silveryn, now fresh and changed into clean clothes after a bath, stepped out of the
carriage.

Damian followed after her.

Silveryn opened the store’s door first and stepped inside. Damian, who followed her
in, scanned the interior.

Baskets of herbs were densely arranged by type.

A middle-aged woman tidying up the herbs greeted them. She squinted and then,
recognizing their faces, gasped in surprise.

“Welcome… Oh my!”

Damian looked puzzled.

“Oh dear, oh dear, please wait just a moment. It won’t take long!”

She hastily entered a curtained room at the entrance. Soon after, the sound of a small
squabble could be heard from inside.
“No, mom, wait! I’m not ready!”

A young woman, pushed out of the room, stumbled out.

She caught sight of Damian and Silveryn’s faces and paused to catch her breath.

“Ah, welcome!”

She bowed her head and sneakily glanced up at the two with her eyes slightly raised.
Catching Damian’s gaze, she quickly averted her eyes.

Then she casually tossed her loose hair behind her ears.

“Do you need anything?”

Silveryn handed her a note.

“Yes, give me everything written here.”

The girl took the note and murmured the contents.

“Black kale… Moonleaf… Malinda stem… Ah, for Deronia root and Eagle’s petal, you’ll
have to go to the store to the right. We’ll take care of the rest for you.”

“Good.”

Silveryn glanced to the side.

“Damian, don’t you need anything?”

“I… just a moment.”

Damian was holding a list of ingredients and a herbal encyclopedia, checking the
display of strewn herbs. He seemed flustered about what to buy.

A shop assistant, catching Silveryn’s eye, sidled up to Damian.

“Let me help you.”

She peeked at Damian’s list.

“This is for a Colohesst-based concoction.”

She pointed out the herbs directly.

“If so, you definitely need these first. If you need help next time, come by. You don’t
need to bring money. I’ll help you.”

The attendant approached Damian with an attitude of enthusiasm.

“…Thank you.”

After making the purchases and getting ready to move to the next shop, the
attendant followed with a small wooden box in her hand.

She then handed the box to Damian.

“Here, this tea leaves are grown by the shop itself.”

The box, just by its processed look, seemed valuable.

‘Why give me this?’ Damian looked at the box questioningly.

The attendant explained, flustered.

“That… it’s not for sale or anything, it’s a gift! It’s good for someone as physically
active as you!”

Damian had an inkling that something was amiss.

Entering the next shop, an even stranger occurrence unfolded.

The owner welcomed them with open arms. Recognizing Damian, he offered his
hand for a shake.

“It’s a true honor to meet you.”

He then informed him about the nickname ‘The Butcher of Youth.’

That’s what the villagers were calling him.

Damian was momentarily lost for words when he heard the grim moniker.

As they moved around the market, numerous stories unfolded.

On the way back to the carriage, Damian asked Silveryn.

“Since when did Weisel become the ‘home of my soul’?”

It was an old folk song about the many figures who had passed through Weisel, to
which a wandering bard had added a tale about Damian.

‘No one knows his birthplace, but the home of his soul lies in Weisel.’

They misunderstood that Damian had been rooted in Weisel for a long time.

“I told you. They’re obsessed with new stories because it’s too peaceful here. Did you
think they would leave a hero who saved the village alone?”

Admittedly it was only ghouls, but it was a threat to the entire village. Even if not for
Damian, the ghouls would have been eradicated somehow, but Damian took it upon
himself to leave a strong impression.

Add to that Damian’s appearance, the backing of the Eternia Academy, his veiled
prowess in swordplay, and the knights’ covert support—all these contributed to the
current state of affairs.

Silveryn mockingly sang a tune.

“He struck down ninety-nine ghouls~”

Damian, embarrassed, found it hard to lift his face.

He thought the villagers were overreacting.

“You have no idea what you’ve stirred up, do you? It might be exaggerated, but the
word must have spread far and wide among the knights and Weisel’s highborn.”

“…?”

If it was the ‘highborn,’ she was referring to the noble social circles.
Silveryn smiled mischievously.

“Do you still think you’re hiding? My student, those people from your dreams might
already be racing toward Weisel to find you.”

If so, Silveryn was bound to be involved too. Yet, she seemed almost eager for them
to come searching.

***

Just a little further and they would be at Weisel’s borders.

Five black carriages bearing the emblem of Eternia were traveling in a line across the
plain. A huge wagon, carrying something indiscernible, trailed at the rear.

In the lead carriage rode Gaiel, the associate professor of Eternia’s Combat
Department, accompanied by her protege, a second-year combat student named
Flynn.

Flynn was on edge, not for a moment able to relax.

It wasn’t just the carriage behind; an unexpected figure rode inside.

Only when it was announced that a reclusive person would join the exam did Flynn
realize this was no ordinary event.

Though unclear about the exact nature of the exam, Flynn understood that this vast
number of people were going to assess just one child.

All this for just one.

What on earth was this?

“Professor.”

“What is it?”

“Did you anticipate this happening?”

“This event was beyond my expectations as well.”

Suddenly the carriage ground to a halt. The coachman shouted.

“Gu, ghouls!”

Flynn peered out of the window.

A carriage, seemingly belonging to a noble, was halted in the distance, and knights
surrounded it, facing off against about a dozen ghouls.

Gaiel hurried out of the carriage to come to their aid.

Flynn followed her.

Drawing his sword, he watched as runes began to glow upon the blade, and a mist
started to rise from its steel.

At that moment, Flynn had no idea.

He was about to hear the name of the very child he would be examining from those
he was about to aid.
There was no need for additional personnel from another academy to intervene.
When Gael and Flynn joined the fight against the ghouls, the battle became easier.

“Flynn, you take the left side.”

“Understood.”

The knights guarding the noble’s carriage were encouraged by the sight of the
Eternia insignia on Gael’s armor.

The arrival of a swordsman from Eternia was like having an army at their side.

Flynn took the left, while Gael handled the right, and they continued their offensive.
The number of ghouls rapidly dwindled.

One by one, they were cut down until only two remained at a distance. The
remaining ghouls roared at them before turning tail and fleeing.

Flynn watched the retreating ghouls and commented.

“Disgusting creatures.”

Fortunately, there were no injuries. The carriage door was broken and swung loosely,
the only damage sustained.

Had Eternia’s carriage not passed by, the knights and carriage passengers might have
been annihilated in a perilous situation.

The apparent leader of the escort team expressed his gratitude to Gael.

“To think that a carriage from Eternia would pass by in such a situation, it’s a stroke
of fortune. Thank you.”
“There’s no need for thanks. We did only what was necessary.”

Someone cautiously emerged from inside the carriage.

A middle-aged couple and a young lady, appearing to be in her twenties, came out,
their hearts finally settling from their shock. Their attire was as if they were heading
to a ball—extravagant and grandiose.

Upon seeing the carriage with the Eternia crest, and Gael and Flynn, the couple was
taken aback, momentarily holding their breaths.

They looked wide-eyed at the corpses of the ghouls and then back at Flynn, after
which the lady whispered something into her husband’s ear.

The middle-aged man stepped forward first and spoke.

“If it were not for your assistance, we might have faced a disaster. I truly thank you. I
am Count Sinatra. This is my wife Scania, and our only daughter Nancy.”

With a nudge, he pushed his only daughter slightly toward Gael and Flynn.

Nancy lifted the hem of her dress and curtsied gracefully.

“It’s an honor to meet both the famous professor and disciple from Weisel.”

Gael and Flynn exchanged looks, their eyes wide with surprise.

Gael, sensing something amiss, asked.

“Do you know us?”

The fact that they were headed to conduct a Masters class examination was strictly
confidential, not known to anyone outside the academy.

Count Sinatra explained.

“How could we not know? You are Madam Silveryn and her disciple, the genius
swordsman Damian. You use the sword in such an extraordinary manner, just as
we’ve heard.”
‘Damian?’

Flynn’s eyebrows twitched in reflex. He was well aware of Silveryn’s fame, but this
was the first he heard of her having a disciple. Rumor had it that Silveryn would
never take a student, which made the situation feel even more peculiar.

Additionally, it stung Flynn’s pride a bit to have another’s name attached to him in
connection with the sword, especially away from the homeland and academy.

Gael shook her head.

“We can’t divulge any information regarding our mission right now.”

“I understand. It was unnecessary of me to speak so.”

“We can’t stay here. More ghouls could swarm in, so we need to move along quickly.”

Had the carriage been completely destroyed, their route would have been blocked,
leading to a significant delay. Another attack was unpredictable, and there was no
guarantee of such minimal damage again.

The situation was swiftly managed, and the carriages began moving again.

The nobles’ carriage was now leading ahead of Gael and Flynn’s.

“The rumors weren’t quite true, were they?”

“What do you mean?”

“He seems rather different from what I expected. I was told he was a handsome
man…”

“You really don’t hold back before your saviors, do you! Don’t pay attention to idle
gossip; it’s nothing!”

They failed to realize that their words were leaking out due to the damaged carriage
door.

Flynn resolutely banished their conversation from his mind.

Gael, unfazed by the loose talk, simply crossed her arms and gazed out the window.

If not for the ghoul incident, the view could have felt rather peaceful.

Though the issue at hand was resolved, Flynn felt a certain unease lingering.

“Professor, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Were there always this many ghouls around here?”

***

I had risen early in the morning to pore over Zverev’s research notes, concentrating
on the formulation records for Potion Number 1.

The more I read, the more I marveled at the alchemist’s obsession and madness.

The pursuit of the perfect potion comprised countless cycles of formulating,

experimenting, and discarding.

Once a degree of stability was achieved in the potion, having gone through ghoul-
based experiments, Zverev moved on to human trials. Whether participants were
voluntary, I couldn’t tell, but the experiments continued successfully and the effects
of the potion became increasingly evident.

The final naming of Potion Number 1 was ‘Griffin Potion’.

The Griffin Potion was developed to aid in combat, which requires intense physical
activity.

While under the potion’s influence, visual response, strength, jump power, reflexes,
and other combat-essential aspects all improved.

Side effects included increased heart rate, insomnia, loss of appetite, occasional
hyper-sensitivity, and irises glowing gold like a griffin’s. Addiction and dependency
were low, and the side effects were tolerable.

I couldn’t help but desire it, given that my physical abilities didn’t yet fully support
the power of my sword. For the time being, I would need potions to boost my
performance.

While I could manage ghouls alone, facing creatures like cockatrices, ogres, trolls,
and wyverns made this potion essential.

Its drawback was that the effects only manifested several hours after ingestion,
making its use in sudden combat situations difficult.

Zverev even created a fast-acting recipe to mitigate this disadvantage, but with
double the ingredients and complexity in its creation, I had to put that on hold.

Before the griffin blood I ordered arrives, I need to refine the stocked herbs so I can
produce the potions quickly.

But during this process, I questioned whether my alchemical knowledge was

adequate.

I need to test the potion before the academy’s examination team arrives.

While wracking my brains, someone knocked on my door.

I shoved Zverev’s notebook under my bed before responding.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Silveryn entered. She looked like she had just woken up, her
hair tousled.

“Were you awake?”

“Yes, reading a book.”

“Aren’t you busy? Do you remember that young girl? The one who got hurt by ghouls
and brought here earlier.”

I remember. The girl was rushed here first thing in the morning, causing quite a stir
throughout the village.

After her grandmother died, the orphaned girl was left on her own.
“Yes.”

“She’s woken up. Wanna go down and see her with me?”

I immediately followed Silveryn downstairs.

Silveryn opened the door to a room along the hallway and walked in.

In the small room with a bed at its center, a girl my age sat propped against the
pillows. Two maids greeted Silveryn alongside her.

The girl stiffened in surprise upon seeing Silveryn, seemingly unaware she had been
receiving care in Silveryn’s estate.

“How do you feel?”

The girl fumbled with her hands and stuttered the words in response to Silveryn’s
inquiry.

“Where is this place…?”

“It’s my estate. The villagers brought you here.”

The girl looked anxious, prompting Silveryn to offer reassurance.

“I merely came to check on how you’ve recovered since you woke up. I won’t kick
you out nor ask for any compensation.”

“Oh, thank you…”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Um, my grandmother, where is she?”

Silveryn briefly hesitated. The girl’s grandmother had perished at the hands of
ghouls. The horrific scene was still vivid in my mind.

“Unfortunately, your grandmother didn’t survive.”

The girl’s eyes widened with shock. She momentarily displayed a look of surprise
before regaining her composure. Although she maintained outward calm, it seemed
she was harboring a whirlwind of emotion inside.

With a suppressed tone, the girl thanked Silveryn.

“Thank you for taking care of me…”

“Are you hurting anywhere?”

“No, thanks to your care.”

Silveryn slowly nodded after looking at the girl’s face.

“You must have a lot on your mind, so we will give you some space. If you need
anything, just call for the maids.”

“Thank you truly.”

Silveryn left the room. She knew the girl needed time to gather her emotions. The
maids and I followed her out.

Leaving the girl alone, Silveryn spoke to me after closing the door.

“Get ready for training. I’ll change and join you.”

“Okay.”

Silveryn headed upstairs.

I lingered at the door for a moment, lost in thought.

What would become of the girl once she was fully recovered? Would she return to
that small house?

If so, at such a young age, and being a woman, she’d have to start life alone.

Though it’s not my place to overly concern myself, I couldn’t help but be troubled.

Then, from behind the door, I heard a noise.

The girl was sobbing quietly.

“…”

It felt as though I had heard something I shouldn’t have.

The girl seemed accustomed to suppressing her emotions in front of others.

The shack she had lived in didn’t look prosperous. She and her grandmother must
have struggled to make ends meet, forcing the girl to grow up sooner than her peers.

She must have led a life where she could never afford to show her struggles to
anyone.

“Sob… sorry, grandma.”

“Sniff, I’m alone… sorry, oh grandma… I’m sorry.”

A whirlwind of emotion suddenly seized me as well.

She was the one who remained.

The girl’s murmured words unexpectedly pierced my heart.

I stood motionless, unable to do anything as a memory long buried deep within my

consciousness surged forth without my volition.

I was the one who hadn’t survived, and therefore I could never fully understand her
sorrow.

I couldn’t permit myself the presumption of offering solace so freely.

All I could do was contemplate what it must be like to be left alone.

Quietly thinking of Liza.

After the rain, the weather turned a bit chilly.

I put on an overcoat and headed to the training ground just like any other day.

Before starting the day’s training, Silveryn talked about magical energy.

She started by telling me the precautions regarding my sword. It was an explanation

about the influence my sword could have on people.

Then she added more information about magical pressure.

“You have an exceptionally good resistance to magical pressure.”

Good as it may sound, I actually had no clue what that meant.

“What’s good about that?”

“For starters, your ability to wield that sword is thanks to your resistance to magical
pressure. Plus, if your resistance is good, your ability to control magical energy will
improve quickly with just a bit of training.”

Though it probably seemed very basic to Silveryn, she patiently continued to explain
it without showing any signs of annoyance at my questioning.

“If you can control magical energy well, you can use it very efficiently. Magical energy
is tricky; it can burst out unpredictably. A lot gets wasted going in strange
directions.”

“I learn to control magical energy… to what end?”

It’s not like I was learning magic or anything.

“Hm, sword aura?”

“…!”

“Swordsmen with a name in the field don’t always wield a large capacity for magical
energy. Some are average or even less so. Yet, they manage sword aura effectively
because they use their magical energy efficiently.”

Sword aura, such a distant concept. I had heard of it in stories and books but had
never actually seen someone wield it in real life.

But what would happen if I infused my sword with sword aura? I couldn’t quite
imagine what that would be like.

“And then there’s…”

Silveryn tapped her upper lip with her index finger, pondering a moment.

“Artifacts can be utilized effectively too. Especially higher-tier artifacts which are
better. The higher you go, the more you need both control over magical energy and
resistance to magical pressure.”

It’s good to know I could handle them, but there was another issue.

“Will I ever get my hands on a high-tier artifact?”

High-tier artifacts are so costly that even wealthy nobles have to empty their coffers
to obtain them.

“If you live diligently, opportunities are bound to come. Once you enter the academy,
make sure to get along well with the kids from the magical engineering department.
Most high-level artifacts are made by those from Eternia.”

Magical engineering?

Magic, alchemy, swordsmanship, I’ve gotten somewhat familiar with these

disciplines after encountering them a few times. But magical engineering feels like a
completely foreign territory.

Had I ever encountered someone proficient in magical engineering? No name came

to mind, no matter how hard I thought.
Even when I lived in Haman, I heard about swordsmanship, magic, and alchemy, but
never about magical engineering. It seemed to be a field not commonly encountered
in everyday life.

I understood it involved crafting constructs like golems or enchanted gear using

manastones, but beyond that, I was clueless.

“I’ve never met a magical engineer in my life.”

“That’s quite possible. Not everyone can pursue it. Besides, magical engineers like to
hole up in their labs, so they aren’t easy to encounter in daily life.”

“Then how do I become friends with them?”

“It’s not that hard. Just give them something sweet every time you meet them.”

“Sweet things, like snacks?”

“Yes.”

Just like that? Surely she must be joking.

“Will that really work?”

“You’ll be surprised how well it works.”

Her tone was serious; it didn’t sound like she was trying to trick me.

Magical engineers, huh. Silveryn rarely emphasized anything as ‘must-do.’ If she

stressed it that much, it’s something to embed in my mind without question.

***

After Silveryn’s lecture on magical energy, we resumed our training.

The footwork practice had evolved to a new stage, with a slight increase in difficulty
compared to before.

It wasn’t a big change. The footwork training now included wielding a sword and
deflecting stones, that’s all.
But even with a small change, it felt like my eyes were straining. I had to deflect
pebble-sized stones with the thin blade of my sword. Even when I thought I saw the
flying stones clearly, when I swiped my sword, it often missed by about a palm’s
width.

As soon as I got a little comfortable and familiar with the training, it would move to
the next phase. There was no room for complacency or smugness.

Caught up in the middle of training, a thought popped into my head, and I asked
Silveryn.

“Teacher.”

“Hmm?”

“That test by Zeldan Hart, is there a next stage?”

This footwork training itself was said to be a kind of test created by Zeldan Hart.

And I was sure I had heard this was just the first stage.

Now that I thought about it, it was curious why someone who had reached the
pinnacle of swordsmanship would bother creating such a thing.

Silveryn, having just thrown the remaining stones, said.

“There is. As far as I know, there are five stages.”

I remember that for the first stage, the method was just written on paper. I wonder if
the other four stages just follow the instructions written down as well.

“What’s the second stage? Is that what we’re doing now?”

“No, it can’t be done here.”

“…Why not?”

Silveryn chuckled.

“You’re too early for that. It might be even harder than the Masters class
examination.”

“It jumps up that much in difficulty?”

“There’s no need to hurry, my student. Whether you want to or not, the time will
come when you have to pass all of Zeldan Hart’s tests.”

Why does she sound so ominous when saying the time will come?

“If you don’t master the previous stage perfectly, you can’t pass the next. So, just keep
working hard on what you’re doing now.”

Silveryn picked up a stone from the ground and tossed it to me. As expected, the
stone soared past my sword.

***

Returning to the estate, I gulped down a specially formulated potion as usual. Thanks
to taking the potion every day, my body was becoming more robust, and I was
developing a resistance to fatigue.

While reading an alchemy book on my bed, the head butler, Ezra, came to deliver the
items I had requested.

“Here are the items you asked for, brought from the village smithy.”

They were materials necessary for metalworking. Along with them were lumps of
meteorite iron, processed into the shapes I had requested.

He had taken a lump of raw meteorite iron, removed the impurities, extracted pure
meteorite iron, and cast it into thin, rod-like shapes.

The rods could be tailored to my specifications, engraved with patterns, then curled
into a circular shape and joined to form a ring.

I took the twenty meteorite iron rods and the tools the butler had brought and said.

“Thank you very much.”

“Madam Silveryn instructed to provide you with whatever materials you need.
Please let us know if you require anything else.”

Silveryn was ever so generous to me, and I sometimes wondered if I even deserved
such luxury.

“Oh, and do you remember the young girl who was injured by ghouls and had been
resting in the infirmary?”

“Of course.”

“She wishes to see you, Master Damian.”

“She does?”

She wants to see me at this late hour? This was unexpected.

“Yes, she’s been waiting outside your door.”

“Oh… please let her in.”

Signaling with his hand, the butler allowed the girl to enter the room, then quietly
excused himself.

I gazed at the girl who hesitated, seemingly about to speak but pausing as tension
overcame her.

An awkward silence followed.

“What brings you here?”

“Ah, well… I heard that you defeated all the ghouls. You avenged my grandmother. I
came to thank you for that.”

“Someone else would have done if not me.”

I didn’t do it for thanks so there was no need for her to feel indebted.

“Still, it was you who did it. It’s important to me. Thank you very much.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself, coming here with an injured body.”
“I’m not in pain anymore.”

It’s a relief that her body is healed, but wait – what happens now?

“I’m glad you’ve recovered. But does this mean you’re going home now?”

“No! Actually, I spoke to Madam Silveryn a little while ago. I asked if I could stay here
as a maid, and she agreed to let me stay.”

A wise choice. Silveryn’s estate is safer than anywhere else for this young girl. Not
many people live here, and there are hardly any visitors, so it’s unlikely the work will
be too demanding.

My heart was troubled when I heard her crying this morning, but she’s a smart girl
who can find her own way. I needn’t have worried.

Seeing her reminds me even more about the special treatment I’m getting from
Silveryn. I get everything I want without lifting a finger.

The girl seemed to remember something else and continued speaking.

“And there’s another reason I came to see you. Madam Silveryn asked me to assist
you. That’s my job now. To assist Master Damian.”

“Assist me with my work?”

“Yes. She said specifically, ‘Join Damian in the secret task he is currently
undertaking.’”

“…”

As my expression soured, the girl became restless, thinking she had made a blunder.

“That secret task… um, did I say something wrong?”

“Do you know what task I’m supposed to be doing?”

“No, but, you see, my grandmother was an alchemist. I helped her and learned a bit,
so I’m confident in my alchemy, even if I don’t know much else.”
I slapped my forehead.

Silveryn must know that I intend to create potions using Zverev’s recipe. There
wouldn’t be a need for this girl’s assistance with ordinary potion-making.

She knows too well what I need.

It seems I’m always in the palm of Silveryn’s hand.

I let out a light sigh and then spoke.

“It seems that exactly the kind of person I need has come.”

My words conflicted with my sullen face; the girl hesitated before responding.

“Oh, that’s good. Um, my name is Liria. Please take care of me from now on.”

And then she bowed in my direction. I ignored the gesture, as if she were bowing to a
superior, and instead approached to offer a handshake.

“I’ll be counting on you as well.”

Since the crack of dawn, Damian and Silveryn had departed to some unknown
destination.

Liria also woke up early, ready to head out.

The villagers had taken care of her grandmother’s funeral services. Therefore, Liria
was planning to visit the village that day.

She had to stop by her grandmother’s grave and pack her belongings from their
home.

She quickly became friends with Maid Nana, almost to the extent of calling each
other sisters. Although Liria decided to work as a maid in the estate, Nana still
tended to her as if she were a guest.

Maid Nana helped her dress and brushed her hair.

After her return from the village, she would officially start her duties as a maid.

Liria was still intimidated by Silveryn.

When she confided her feelings, Nana reassured her that as long as she fulfilled her
duties diligently, there shouldn’t be any problems.

Liria’s first impression of Damian was that he seemed a bit blunt but not necessarily
in a bad way.

When she inquired about Damian to Nana, the maid’s hands stopped brushing in
mid-motion.

After a moment of thought, Nana said,

“At first glance, I didn’t notice, but the more you see, the more you realize he’s quite
an impressive figure.”

The more questions Liria asked about Damian, the more eagerly Nana spilled out
stories about him. Damian’s personality, his appearance when he first started
training, and even stories about him carrying her. It was as though she had been
waiting for someone to ask.

Having heard all this, Liria felt reassured that Damian was definitely not a strange
person.

After she was ready, Liria asked Nana if she could accompany her to the village, but
Nana declined, saying she had to deliver lunch to the training grounds.

Early in the morning, Liria took a carriage to the village.

When she inquired about her grandmother’s grave to a neighbor who was fond of
her, the woman shook her head and handed her a small urn.

“After the ghouls appeared, we no longer do burials.”

The villager explained that they were in the process of exhuming and cremating
tombs, and while it’s heartbreaking, she offered what consolation she could to Liria.

In her old home, Liria gathered her study books, clothes, and her grandmother’s
recipes, then boarded the carriage back to Silveryn’s estate.

She left the rest of her grandmother’s belongings in the house.

On the carriage ride back, Liria clung tightly to her grandmother’s urn.

Her eyes were red throughout the journey, but as she alighted from the carriage
upon her arrival at the estate, she regained her firm demeanor.

By the time she returned to the estate, the sun had set.

The estate’s maids were busy preparing dinner.

Liria, too, hurried to put her luggage away in order to help out.

Her duty was to prepare the potions that Damian would drink.
Going to the laboratory, she saw a large iron pot of boiling water, and next to it a
maid about to indiscriminately dump in a bunch of herbs.

Liria rushed over in shock and stopped her.

“I’ll take it from here.”

A potion hastily concocted without following the proper order would result in an
unspeakably horrible taste.

Liria accepted the herbs and laid them out on the table.

Dozens of herbs, each precious enough that one could equate their value to a
month’s worth of Liria’s food.

“Is Lord Damian supposed to drink this every few weeks?”

“He needs it every day.”

Upon hearing the reply, Liria briefly faced an existential crisis but soon composed
herself.

She carried the carefully brewed potion according to the recipe to Damian’s room.

After gulping down the potion, Damian mused with a peculiar expression.

“It feels different somehow, doesn’t it?”

“Nothing’s missing. I just brewed it slowly according to the recipe. How does it
taste?”

Damian looked at Liria with wide eyes before responding in a brighter tone.

“It’s much better. I hope you’ll keep this up.”

“Yes!”

Liria beamed and bowed her head slightly.

She felt pleased, having fulfilled her role for the first time.
As night fell, she started potion production in earnest with Damian in the laboratory.

Damian only asked Liria questions about things he didn’t know, relying on her for
assistance, but attempted to handle most of the work himself.

It was comfortable for Liria. Damian had a strong desire to learn and did not forget
easily what he was taught.

However, his recklessness was notably worrisome.

He would sometimes drink raw mixtures without asking and then dash out to vomit.
Such behavior was beyond Liria’s imagination.

Moreover, his concoctions were completely haphazard. In alchemy, there are

particular ingredient combinations akin to a formula, but he tried bizarre mixtures
that blatantly ignored these.

Holding back as long as she could, Liria eventually pointed out that his method was
just a waste of herbs. Damian simply replied with unruffled complacency.

“I still need to do it.”

He could never tear his eyes away from the notebook. No matter how curious she
was, he never showed it to her.

A week went by, and Liria gradually adapted to life on the estate.

Every day, Damian and Silveryn left at dawn and returned in the evening, and Liria
distilled potions with Damian at night.

Damian was reserved and focused solely on his work, so they had not grown much
closer.

As evening approached, the air turned chilly. When Liria attempted to light a fire in
the kitchen’s fireplace, the maids halted her with alarm.

“You’re not supposed to light fires in the postal receiver.”

The estate was full of sometimes incomprehensible rules. Why was the fireplace a
postal receiver?
When Liria stood quietly and observed, a winged orb indeed flew in, casting a letter
into the fireplace before vanishing.

Liria picked up the newly arrived letter.

She ran to ask Nana about it, who, upon verifying the Eternia seal, told her to deliver
it to Silveryn.

Still intimidated by Silveryn but compelled by the importance of the message and
knowing someone had to deliver it, Liria bravely knocked on Silveryn’s door.

“Come in.”

She approached Silveryn, offering the letter respectfully with both hands. Silveryn
tore it open to read and then motioned her away with a gesture.

As Liria turned to leave, Silveryn suddenly called her back.

Not having grown any less apprehensive about Silveryn’s every utterance, Liria
trembled as she fetched Damian and brought him to Silveryn’s room.

They began a conversation with serious expressions.

Liria nervously lingered, missing her chance to exit, but fortunately, neither seemed
to take any notice of her.

“They’re here in Weisel now. There’s not much time left.”

“Yes.”

“And there will be a special guest coming.”

Liria was so flustered she could barely follow their conversation.

Words sailed over her head with meanings unfathomable.

Masters class, examiners, magical engineers, wooden dolls?

That night in the laboratory, Damian absently worked on potion production,

murmuring the term ‘magical engineer’ several times before suddenly asking Liria.
“Do you know how to make sweet snacks?”

Liria nodded vigorously.

“Yes! My grandmother’s recipes include candy.”

Damian seemed to ask without much expectation.

“Could you make some for me?”

Liria’s grandmother, when she became too frail to gather herbs, used alchemy to
produce special candies that she sold.

These candies had become a specialty of Weisel and were a source of pride for Liria.

Without delay, she went to retrieve her grandmother’s recipe book from her room
and gathered a bunch of flowers from the herb storehouse.

An hour or so of crafting later, Liria handed Damian the finished candy.

Inside the transparent spherical candy, no bigger than a bite, was a single flower
petal.

Damian popped the candy into his mouth and savored it silently. Liria, having made
some, placed one in her own mouth as well.

A subtle sweetness spread on the tongue, complemented by the fresh scent of

flowers rising to the nose.

It was a nostalgic taste that I had briefly forgotten.

After a moment, Damian remarked,

“Your grandmother was a genius.”

Liria felt a sense of recognition, as if the compliment was directed at her, and her
mood brightened.

“That’s right. My grandmother was a real genius…”

Suddenly, Liria covered her face with both hands.

Thoughts of her grandmother surfaced unexpectedly, and tears began to form

unbidden.

“I’m being foolish again, I’m so sorry… so, so sorry…”

She hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Damian. She feared he would find her
bothersome.

More at a loss than Liria was Damian himself.

Sweating, he tried to comfort her.

Strangely enough, the more he tried to console her, the more tears flowed.

He managed to calm her down a bit and sat her in a chair before saying,

“Just wait here a moment.”

Damian left the laboratory, and soon returned with a piece of dark metal and a box of
tools.

“Stretch out your finger.”

He wrapped a long strip of paper around Liria’s right ring finger to measure its
circumference and then cut the metal accordingly.

“What was your grandmother’s name?”

As Liria told him her grandmother’s name, he began to hammer away.

He heated the metal in the fire, bent it into a circle, and the hammering continued for
about thirty minutes.

Finishing his work, Damian prompted,

“Hold out your hand.”

He placed the completed item on Liria’s palm.

It was a ring. Liria examined it with a look of amazement.

It was entirely black, but as she turned it, sometimes a faint red hue glimmered
through. There were no special adornments or patterns, but even in its smooth,
simple state, it had an air of antique elegance.

The initials of her grandmother were etched on the inside of the ring, where it would
touch the finger. When brought close to the candlelight, only the initials sparkled in
red.

“Wow…”

“How is it?”

“It’s really amazing.”

“It’s made of meteorite iron.”

“Meteorite… what’s that?”

“A piece of a star.”

A piece of a star. Even without much knowledge about metals, the name alone
embodied something special.

Watching Liria straighten out her furrowed brow to look at the ring with delight,
Damian asked,

“Liria, may I use your grandmother’s candy recipe?”

Proudly, she nodded again.

“Go ahead and use it. My grandmother never cared about that stuff.”

Her grandmother had spent her life sharing her researched recipes generously with
the world. Although it meant living in poverty, Liria had never once resented her
grandmother.

She slipped the ring onto her right ring finger.

Liria was very much taken with the ring.

Soon after, they resumed potion making as if nothing had happened.

As she worked, Liria would occasionally stretch out her right hand and look at the
ring, smiling contentedly.

***

Two days had passed since then. To Liria, everything seemed to be flowing without
issue.

However, that night in the laboratory, Damian was slumped over with his head down,
hands covering his head in torment.

Surrounded by various concoctions, he had stopped the rest of his work.

From an overheard conversation, it was apparent that he was facing some significant
examination.

How crucial must this test be for someone who rarely showed his emotions to be
displaying such distress?

A bewildered Liria approached Damian and asked,

“What’s wrong?”

“The examination is tomorrow… and it still hasn’t arrived.”

“What hasn’t?”

He maintained his silence for a while before finally speaking.

“The last ingredient…”

A knight was transporting oak barrels loaded on a freight wagon to some
destination.

He was an apprentice knight of the Weisel Knights. As he surveyed the peaceful

scenery of Weisel, he muttered to himself,

“I joined for honor, but what I do is nothing but the work of a slave.”

The apprentice couldn’t understand.

Why bother calling a knight for a job that a servant could do? And why dress him in
the overly conspicuous armor with the knight’s seal and affix a flag to the cargo
wagon?

The contents did not seem particularly valuable either. If the oak barrels had
contained wine, he might have stolen a few swigs in a fit of annoyance.

As he rounded the corner of the hill, he saw a large mansion occupying a scenic spot
in the distance.

The knight compared the location with his map several times and declared,

“There it is. That’s where I’m supposed to go.”

Humming a song, he guided the cart forward.

A couple of hours later, as he approached the mansion, he was met by a crowd of

people outside.

At the center of the gathering was a tall, slender woman. Next to her stood a boy and
a girl. Servants lined up to either side, waiting for someone’s arrival.

The knight squinted. There was something familiar about these silhouettes.
‘What’s this?’

Looking closer, he recognized the woman in the middle as the great mage Silveryn,
whom he had seen not long ago. Beside her was her disciple and genius swordsman,
Damian.

The knight was dumbfounded.

‘Incredible, I’ve been sent to the great mage’s estate!’

Now he understood why the knight’s seal was so prominently displayed on the flag
of his cart.

The great mage herself was coming out to receive them!

Did the knight’s order have such prestige? His chest filled with pride.

With dignity, the knight entered the grounds of the mansion.

Silveryn stood a few paces away as the knight parked the wagon and rushed to kneel
before her.

“A knight of the Weisel Order, also the third son of the Rahardt family…”

Silveryn frowned and gestured for him to move aside.

“For the great mage…?”

Confused, the knight looked around for reactions from the bystanders.

They showed no interest in the knight; their gaze was fixed on the distance.

When the knight followed their line of sight, he spotted a procession of black
carriages with Eternia’s insignia drawing closer to the mansion.

“…!”

Damian, the disciple of Silveryn, quietly approached the knight to guide him.

“This way, please.”

 ***

I had finally brought in all the griffin blood and took a moment to catch my breath. In
total, there were six oak barrels.

It arrived later than expected, making my heart race with worry, but the quantity
exceeded my hopes. With so much, I could make a bottle’s worth daily and still have
enough to last over a year.

This must mean the knights were very generous – several griffins’ worth of blood.

The problem now was that I had to use the potion immediately in real conditions
without any time for trial runs.

Anything could go wrong. I had to be mentally prepared.

Liria followed me into the laboratory.

“Is this the last ingredient?”

“Yes.”

She picked up a flask and opened the lid of one of the oak barrels to pour the liquid
within.

She swirled the flask, observing its contents.

Colorless, odorless, and with high viscosity – it almost looked like colorless honey.
Nothing like the blood of beasts and magical creatures commonly known to people.

As Liria studied it, a look of utter bewilderment crossed her face, prompting her to
ask,

“What on earth is this?”

“It’s griffin blood.”

“My goodness…”

She looked back at the oak barrels in astonishment.

“Anyway, this is the last ingredient, right?”

“Yes.”

“Phew, what should I do… I’m so nervous.”

“Why are you nervous, Liria?”

“I don’t know myself… why am I feeling like this?”

Liria had also seen the procession of Eternia carriages approaching the estate.
Clearly, this was no ordinary matter.

I pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket with the final potion formula written on
it. The critical phase of the griffin potion was complete, and all that remained was
the simple yet time-consuming tasks.

“Liria, I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Yes?”

I handed her the piece of paper with the formula.

“Could you prepare the potion following these instructions and bring it to me as
quickly as possible?”

Liria glanced at the paper and nodded resolutely.

“Yes!”

If one were just to look at her determined expression, it seemed more like Liria was
going to take the exam, not me.

A rush of urgent footsteps neared the lab.

A maid approached the laboratory’s entrance and announced the arrival of the
examiners.

“The carriages have just entered the estate.”

 ***

I stood beside Silveryn, watching a procession of carriages crossing the main gate.

Out of the five carriages, the central one was particularly large, adorned with ornate
decorations on its surface.

A pair of knights clad in golden armor escorted it on each side.

From my discussions with Silveryn, I knew who was inside.

As the carriages made their calculated entrance, a figure who appeared to be the
captain among the escorting knights shouted,

“Positions, everyone!”

Simultaneously, the carriages came to a unified halt in front of the mansion. Soon
after, the coachmen dismounted in a choreographed fashion and opened the doors of
their respective carriages.

The world went silent for what seemed an eternity.

From the central, most prominent carriage, a woman alighted with the assistance of
a knight.

Her golden hair was neatly coiled atop her head, and she wore small, round glasses
on her tiny, delicate face. The dress with exquisite embroidery trailed all the way to
the ground.

The maids couldn’t help but gasp in awe at her appearance.

Based on her attire and adornments, one might mistake her for a dignified high
priestess or royal, but her countenance was fresh, as if she had just turned twenty.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Pointed ears I had never seen before in my life.

She was an elf, a member of a race that had long ceased to interact with humans.
Observing her, Silveryn commented,

“You indeed have an odd stroke of fate, my disciple.”

“…”

Silveryn was right; it was an uncanny coincidence.

Though I had been briefed, encountering her face to face felt completely different.

Erzebet Tears.

The very name that had me so tense.

She was not only the first magical engineer I had ever met but also one who had
reached the pinnacle of that field.

Then there was the fact that she was an elf – something I had never even considered
possible.

I recalled the titles associated with Erzebet in my mind.

Mother of Magical Engineering.

Queen of the Trees.

Ruler of Plantara.

The Heart of Eternia.

And the Dean of Eternia.

She, who seldom showed herself even in Eternia, had for some reason come to see
me.

***

Gael stepped down from the carriage with Flynn, and the masked examiners began
to exit theirs as well.
Aside from Erzebet, the identities of the other examiners were unknown even to
Gael. The only information Gael had was that they were outsiders conferred
honorary positions by the academy.

The long three-week journey was drawing to a close.

And the core objective of this journey, the Masters Class examination, would be
completed in just one day.

Furthermore, the exam itself would only take ten minutes.

While the entrance exam for Eternia spanned an entire week, the far more critical
Masters Class examination was allotted only a minuscule amount of time.

The duration might imply inferior importance, but in reality, a plethora of complex,
detailed tests were only meant to filter talents from the general masses. It took no
lengthy assessment to identify the singular genius among them.

Everything would come to an end within ten minutes.

Silveryn and her servants were already out to meet us at the mansion. She glanced
briefly at Gael before returning her focus to Erzebet.

Beside Silveryn stood a young boy.

Ever since his arrival in Weisel, Gael had heard the rumors.

This boy was the one whom Silveryn, despite the many geniuses she had dismissed,
had finally taken under her wing.

A disciple of a great mage, yet a child with a sword.

Gael couldn’t comprehend. Was it just a whim of Silveryn’s, did she see something in
the boy that other geniuses lacked, or was there another intent behind her decision?

Silveryn was an unpredictable entity. If it suited her purposes, she was perfectly
capable of using someone and disposing of them without a second thought.

Regardless, having come so far, Gael couldn’t simply let the matter slide.
On the pretext of the Masters Class examination and being Silveryn’s disciple, the
boy was about to stand before a ruthless tribunal.

Gael turned and yelled to the escort knights,

“Raise the Plantara!”

The knights approached the massive cargo wagon at the end of the procession. They
gripped the black tarpaulin that covered the cargo and stripped it off entirely.

Wooden puppets, until then crumpled and dormant on the wagon, began to stir
under the sunlight.

Creak

As they rose, the swaying wagon eventually could not withstand the weight, and its
wheels collapsed with a crash.

Thud-Thud

One by one, the colossal wooden dolls stepped out, with broad-shouldered knights
barely reaching their chests, creating an oppressive atmosphere.

These were the creations of the grand magical engineer, Erzebet, and they had
become symbolically synonymous with Eternia itself.

They were the Plantara.

Enshrined within Eternia’s main branch at Mount Grace, thousands of wooden doll
legions stood guard. They shredded any threat that dared to approach Eternia, be it
magical beasts or humans.

The independence of Eternia as a separate entity, not belonging to any empire,

kingdom, duchy, or city union, was maintained through the power of the Plantara
legions.

Upon witnessing Plantara, a fleeting terror flickered across the maids’ faces.
Silveryn said,

“Take a good look. Those will be tormenting the freshmen from the entrance
ceremony throughout the semester.”

I swallowed hard as I looked at the giant wooden puppets.

If a ghoul possessed the strength to rend a human with its bare hands, the Plantara
could tear that very ghoul to pieces with theirs.

The entities I now faced were of a different caliber from anything I had encountered
before. I had to pour all my capabilities into this.

Erzebet led her escort, ascending the mansion’s front steps with heavy, deliberate
steps.

The six masked examiners remain by the carriages, not following her.

There was a reason for this. Silveryn and I, in principle, could not greet the
examiners until the examination was over. They weren’t here for a social visit.

There would be no teatime for them. The examination would begin as soon as
preparations were complete.

Silveryn called the butler and gave an order.

“Show the examiners to a suitable place for the test. Ensure the ground is solid, and
even if there’s a commotion, there’s nothing nearby that can be damaged.”

“Understood.”

The butler approached the examiners.

Silveryn greeted Erzebet.

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“It’s been a while, Silveryn.”

Silveryn did not humble herself before Erzebet, treating her like an old friend.

“Was there a particular reason you had to travel this far?”

“How could I ignore that Silveryn finally took on a disciple?”

“You would have seen him someday even if you had stayed put.”

With a light smile, Erzebet replied,

“If I could hold back my curiosity, I wouldn’t have become a magical engineer.”

“That’s true. There’s still some time before the examination, so please, let’s go
inside.”

Erzebet glanced at me before following Silveryn.

“So, you must be Damian.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you. After the examination, we’ll have much to discuss.”

‘We’ll have much to discuss’?

With such an esteemed figure, I genuinely didn’t know what I should say. I’d be
fortunate if my tongue didn’t get tied.

Silveryn seemed to remember something and turned towards me.

“Damian, begin as soon as you’re ready; wait in your room until then.”

“Understood.”
Silveryn led Erzebet towards the guestroom.

Liria, who was scuttling across the central hall towards us, was startled by their
appearance and covered her mouth in surprise.

She then bowed her head and waited for them to pass.

When their footsteps receded, Liria scurried back to me.

From within her embrace, she produced a potion bottle the size of a hand and
handed it to me.

“Here’s the potion, as per the note. The combination is a bit unusual, so make sure to
test it before drinking. If you drink it right away…”

Before she could finish, I uncorked the potion and gulped it down.

Liria shouted.

“No, stop!”

From the perspective of an alchemist, this would be a shocking act. Their principle is
to meticulously check for any mistakes or discrepancies, especially with unfamiliar
combinations. This must have been quite unsettling for her.

But the die was cast, there was no time for explanations or hesitation – I had to drink
it as quickly as possible.

Startled, Liria smacked my forearm with all her might.

“If my grandmother saw this, she would have slapped you silly.”

I disregarded her reaction and said,

“Thank you, Liria. If things go well, I’ll make sure to repay you.”

***

The examiners followed the butler’s lead.

They exited the mansion’s back door and pressed on, soon arriving at a clearing that
looked suitable for the test.

Gael spoke to the butler,

“This area will suffice.”

The ground was not uniformly laid, requiring some leveling. Completing that was the
only task remaining.

With a gesture from Gael, the Plantara advanced, stirring up clouds of dust, and
began to level the ground by scooping out earth.

Flynn watched the Plantara and sighed. Though he had many questions, not being an
examiner himself, he couldn’t dare to inquire about this and that.

The presence of so many Plantara clearly indicated a ‘Trial by Sword.’

It was an exam faced when being promoted to the higher tiers of Eternia’s Combat
Division.

Despite the grand name, the test content was simple.

‘Pierce through the Plantara defense and cut down the flag at the rear.’

That was all there was to it.

The problem, however, was that the specimens before us now were unlike the usual
Plantara one encountered during the ‘Trial by Sword.’

The training Plantara intended for students were smaller in stature, and their
strength and reaction speed were generally lower.

The Plantara before us were not for that purpose.

The grounds of Mount Grace where Eternia was established overflowed with magical
energy, continually drawing monsters.

These Plantara were created to protect Eternia from those beasts.

‘Eternia Scouts’

Weapons of slaughter born to rip apart monsters.

No mere toy to be trifled with by students.

Their strength, speed, size, and combat acumen outclassed those of training
Plantara, and cutting through them without a sword aura was impossible.

Even if one managed to breach the Plantara, they would then face Flynn himself, the
final guardian of the flag.

Thanks to a Dwarf-crafted sword that amplified sword aura, Flynn outclassed even a
single Eternia Scout.

Is this really proper?

Having lived as a genius in swordsmanship since childhood and maintaining top

grades in the combat division, even he had never faced such a trial.

Flynn spoke up.

“Professor, are we required to exert full effort in this?”

Gael’s demeanor remained constant.

“We’re not here to play. Crush them without hesitation.”

“…”

She calmly stroked her chin as she spoke.

“If you don’t shine here, it diminishes my standing for bringing you along.”

***

I was waiting in my room. Reading was impossible as the text wouldn’t sink in, and
practicing alone felt like it would just drain my energy. So I did nothing.

I simply lay in bed, slowly reviewing everything I had practiced up to this point.
Maybe two hours had passed when the tapping of shoes approached my room. Then,
without any knock, my door swung open.

I could tell who it was just by the sound. I immediately got up from the bed.

“Teacher.”

“It’s time. The examination is about to begin.”

Silveryn signaled for me to follow her. I followed her without complaint.

We didn’t exchange a single word as we exited the mansion.

My heart was thumping as if it would burst with tension.

I wonder what Silveryn’s feelings were.

I was the one who broke the silence.

“Teacher.”

“Yes.”

“What happens if I fail the Masters Class examination?”

Silveryn spoke in a measured tone.

“Nothing will happen. My reputation might take a slight hit for making such a fuss for
nothing.”

Her reputation.

I was receiving so much attention simply because I was Silveryn’s disciple. On top of
the training and endorsement from Silveryn, which she perhaps didn’t intend, even
the Dean of Eternia had come to see me.

If I were to fail here, it would undoubtedly mar her reputation.

Silveryn abruptly stopped and spun around.

“But there’s something you must remember.”

“…”

She grasped my shoulder and looked into my eyes.

“This is entirely my doing, without your consent, and I bear full responsibility. Even
if you fail this examination, I will not be disappointed in you. So do not, under any
circumstances, undergo this examination for my sake.”

“Your reputation is important to me as well.”

“I promise you this. If you fail the Masters Class examination, your life at the
academy will be much easier, more stable, more comfortable, and happier. If you
pass, it will be the opposite.”

Why was she telling me this, as if there’s no need to pass?

“Then, is there a reason I must pass this examination?”

Silveryn fell into thought.

“…You need it to fulfill a duty given to you.”

A duty?

“You must have a vague sense of it. That power didn’t come into the world for no
reason. There’s a duty attached to it. To fulfill it, you’ll need the Masters Class’s help.”

She spoke as if she knew something I had yet to realize.

Silveryn’s eyes deepened.

“And… the path of that duty will be extremely painful. So much so that you might feel
it’s better to return to the forge and hammer away.”

“…”

“Whether you choose to live for that duty is up to you. Right now, you’re standing at
that very crossroads…”
Silveryn concluded her speech and quietly awaited my response.

I didn’t need long to decide.

For some reason or fate unknown, I had been granted this power.

Yet even I did not know what duty had been given to me.

I am already undergoing training far more intense than I could have imagined back
when I was in the forge. It’s hard enough already.

But to fulfill that unknown duty, I’d have to endure even more pain. Growing old
gracefully and passing away in bed might become just a dream.

It’s terrifying.

However, the answer was already determined.

Whatever happens, I had decided to follow that path.

That decision was made when I first set out in search of a fragment of a star.

Reaffirmed in my resolve, my heartbeat slowly returned to a stable rhythm.

“What do I need to do to pass the examination?”

The corners of Silveryn’s mouth lifted slightly.

Her hand gently caressed my face.

In her eyes looking at me, there was a mix of pity and pride.

“Do just as we’ve practiced. Crush everything in your path.”

***

In the clearing where the examination was to begin, a large oval-shaped arena had
been carved out.

Each of the Plantara was given a wooden sword as tall as a person.

They were aligned in formation with the handles of their wooden swords pressed to
their chests, blades pointing skyward. Their mere presence cast a large shadow over
the center of the arena.

Five on the left and five on the right—a total of ten Plantara. And behind them stood
Flynn, with a flag at his back.

And from a distance, from the direction of the mansion, Silveryn and Damian were
seen approaching the arena.
To the left of Dean Erzebet stood the masked examiners, while Gael was positioned
to the right. Silveryn observed the arena from a place apart from them.

Gael walked up to Damian and briefly explained the rules of the examination.

“You need to penetrate the Plantara’s defense and cut down the flag. You have ten
minutes. There’s a tall hourglass next to the examiners to check the remaining time.”

“Understood.”

Gael returned to her original position.

Damian slowly entered the arena.

His face showed no trace of fear, even facing the colossal wooden puppets nearly
twice his height. He simply looked at them calmly, and before starting, he knelt on
one knee and closed his eyes as if in a moment of silent prayer for about thirty
seconds. Then he stood up and looked at the examiners.

Damian seemed ready.

Upon Gael’s cue, four escort knights sounded their heralding horns simultaneously.

A piercing sound echoed through the arena, announcing the beginning of the
examination.

The Plantara reacted by aiming their wooden swords at Damian.

Damian too drew his sword from his waist.

A total of ten Plantara.

Spread out in a defensive line, Damian would need to break through a total of five
rows.

Given the enormous size difference, even a single direct hit could be fatal.

He began to quicken his pace, charging toward the nearest Plantara and swinging his
sword.

Clang!

Damian’s strike hit the Plantara’s hip joint squarely. It appeared he swung with all
his might, yet it was as if striking steel – no mark was left.

The Plantara immediately counterattacked.

The puppet swung upwards in a half-circle, aiming to knock Damian away.

For its heavy size, it was astonishingly quick to react.

With a thud, Damian was thrown into the air, landing where he started.

The examiners whispered a faint sigh at this.

Gael muttered to herself in disbelief.

“Unbelievable.”

To her, Damian seemed to swing his sword with no finesse as if it were a club rather
than a blade.

He was an amateur in its most basic form.

Silveryn’s intentions for this test grew suspect in Gael’s mind.

Damian quickly got back on his feet. Thanks to his sword deflecting the blow, he had
avoided serious injury.

He did not bother to dust himself off before charging again.

The Plantara positioned in the first row struck down towards Damian’s head as he
entered their range.
Damian dodged and thrust his sword into the knee joint of the Plantara on his left
and twisted.

The Plantara, its knee control lost, toppled over.

The second row Plantara closed in and plunged its sword directly toward Damian.

He retreated a step, just as planned and avoided the strike.

Crack!

The oncoming wooden sword shattered the fallen Plantara’s right arm.

Another Plantara from the second row joined to support, but Damian ducked low
and slid between a third row Plantara’s legs.

The second and third row pursuing him tangled up due to their momentum and fell
together.

Cleverly utilizing their top-heavy weight distribution to his advantage, he had forced
the heavy puppets to entangle one another.

Understanding that regular sword attacks weren’t effective, he shifted strategy to

cause confusion.

“Hmm.”

Even Gael had to acknowledge that point. His succinct footwork and rapid adaption
to a more favorable strategy showcased an excellent combat sense.

The remaining Plantara from the first, second, and third rows charged
simultaneously at Damian.

Taking advantage of his relatively smaller physique, Damian evaded the assaults
from all directions in a nearly acrobatic fashion.

A soft murmur of admiration spilled out from among the examiners upon witnessing
this.

But it wasn’t enough.

In the midst, a third row Plantara that had regained its footing struck Damian’s
abdomen with its wooden sword.

Clang!

Barely managing to block with his sword, Damian was sent skidding backward.

Despite parrying the blow, it was so forceful that it still seemed to cause significant
damage. Taking advantage of his momentary daze, a first row Plantara that had lost
its arm proceeded to kick him.

Damian’s body flew and landed back at the starting point.

There were 6 minutes remaining.

Damian once again picked himself up.

“Cough.”

Blood dribbled from his mouth.

The Plantara reassembled their formation.

Apart from severing one arm, everything else had been reset to the beginning.
Moreover, Plantara could wield a sword with either hand, so losing one arm meant
they could simply pick up the weapon with the other.

As time progressed, the Plantara’s aggression only increased. Those that had been
stimulated excessively would no longer merely attempt to subdue but tried to kill
outright.

Sensing the examination would end unceremoniously, Gael shook her head.

‘It’ll end without even reaching Flynn.’

Backing out early might be better than incurring severe injuries with lasting
repercussions. Even if Damian could somehow maneuver through the Plantara with
clever tricks, he would ultimately have to contend with Flynn’s sword aura.

After catching his breath for a moment, a subtle change started to occur in Damian.
Gael narrowed her eyes.

‘Eye glow?’

There was a faint golden gleam to his eyes.

Whether from artifact interaction or some special potion he had ingested, Gael did
not think this change could lead to any significant success.

Gripping his sword tightly, Damian plunged back into the formation of Plantara.

Their wooden swords swiftly converged on his shoulders.

And, contrary to Gael’s expectations, Damian easily twisted his body and evaded
their strikes.

His movements were noticeably improved.

Though the Plantara’s aggression heightened and they engaged more proactively in
combat, Damian was quicker and more adept.

Instead of merely evading as he had before, he adopted an offensive tactic.

As the wooden swords swept past his head and shoulders, he stabbed his sword into
the ankle joint of one Plantara and retreated for an evasion, only to quickly bite
down and strike the same spot again.

After three repetitive attacks, the Plantara’s ankle snapped with a decisive crack.

Having focused on the area with the most load and therefore the weakest, Damian
penetrated deeper, doing the same to a Plantara in the third row. After its ankle
broke and it fell, he stepped on its body to induce further attacks.

The strikes meant for Damian instead struck the fallen Plantara.

With a crunch, the disabled Plantara was shattered, rendered motionless.

Immediately, Damian sprinted toward the fourth row as the remaining Plantara
pursued him.
Gael swallowed.

After three attempts, he had figured out a strategy. No matter how much training a
student had, anyone would concede and lay down their sword in the face of such an
overwhelming force.

But the boy had stubbornly found a way through.

Gael could finally appreciate to some extent why Silveryn had brought him.

Many students stood out for their swordsmanship in the academy. After all, only
geniuses could gain admittance.

What the boy had demonstrated was not mere swordsmanship but an innate sense
of combat itself.

Though he might fail this examination due to lack of time, with proper training in
swordsmanship, he would maintain top grades at Eternia.

Just that – nothing more.

He wasn’t yet ready for the Masters Class.

Damian struggled to even advance to the fourth row, as the trailing Plantara began
barraging him with attacks.

No matter how agile, evading this tremendous onslaught was a tall order.

Only 3 minutes and 30 seconds remained.

Considering the confrontation with Flynn, it was a practical certainty of failure. To

overcome Flynn, it wasn’t tricks that were needed, but to overpower with ‘the
sword.’

Feeling his limits, Damian lunged at the fourth row Plantara. He ducked under a
wooden sword and leapt forward, stepping on a second row Plantara’s thigh.

His larger movement momentarily exposed him to an attack.

A hand from a nearby Plantara reached for his leg.

And just before it could grab him, Damian delivered his final blow.

He hurled his sword straight at Flynn.

The sword spun rapidly through the air toward Flynn, who forcefully deflected it.

Clang!

Damian’s sword flew off, burying itself somewhere too far to retrieve.

Caught by the leg in midair, Damian was thrown down hard onto the ground.

He was discarded where the first row Plantara had stood.

3 minutes remained.

Was that the last-ditch effort, sensing his limit?

Since the sword had left his hand, there was nothing more to see.

The Plantara, their aggression intensified from the battle, started closing in on
Damian. If left unchecked, they would turn him to pulp.

The examiners all fell silent.

“It’s over.”

As Gael was about to step forward, Dean Erzebet raised a hand to halt her.

“Not yet.”

When Gael looked at Erzebet with a puzzled face, she smirked.

“…?”

Damian pushed off the ground, slowly getting up and then kneeling on one knee. He
watched the approaching Plantara quietly, much like someone facing a dangerous
beast.

Despite their menacing advance, Damian did not seem to intend to flee or dodge.
Gael watched, unable to comprehend.

‘What is he doing?’

Damian made no move, only closing his eyes, as he had done at the very beginning.

The Plantara quickly encircled him.

They raised their wooden swords, and just as they were about to strike down in
unison,

light flared.
A flash and a large explosion occurred. The blast was so immense that the robes of
the examiners and Erzebet fluttered wildly in the aftermath.

Kwaaa!

Dust rose like fog in the arena, obscuring vision to the point that it was impossible to
see with the naked eye what was happening.

Something was moving violently within.

Though they couldn’t see it with their eyes, Gael and the examiners could all feel it.

A monstrous mass of mana was thrashing about inside.

The examiners tensed, adjusting their stances as they waited.

Within the dust, a flash of light sparked, followed by a wave of light surging toward
the third row at a terrifying speed.

Boom!

It exploded on impact, raising a tremendous cloud of dust.

Another wave burst through the dust, hitting the ground of the fifth row in the blink
of an eye.

Kwaaaa!

The arena became a battlefield in an instant, with first to fifth rows enveloped in
dust.

Even though their vision was obscured, Gael and all the examiners were unable to
look away from that spot.
Within, the sounds of wood swords swinging could be heard repeatedly. The
Plantara, at their highest level of aggression, were intent on killing Damian by any
means necessary.

Suddenly, the light flashed several times, and something arced out from the dust
towards the examiners.

Gael instinctively reached for her sword at her waist.

That round object fell to the ground, bouncing several times before coming to a slow
stop in front of Erzebet’s feet.

It was a Plantara’s severed head, its cross-section as smooth as if a boiled egg had
been sliced.

No one knew what sudden force had been unleashed.

But from within the arena, it was clear Damian was overwhelmingly dominant.

Had he not been using his full strength up until now?

Gael exhaled a small breath.

“Hmph, a mere decapitation won’t suffice.”

Plantara are not human. They don’t die from simple decapitation.

Therefore, although their heads may seem like an apparent weakness, slicing them
off was utterly futile.

As Gael’s words barely finished, another explosion, alongside a massive noise,

erupted.

Thud, thud, thud.

One after the other, the upper halves of Plantara tumbled across the ground, rolling
out of the cloud of debris.

This time the severed ends were grotesquely twisted as if a dragon had swung down
its clawed foot.
“…”

Erzebet chuckled softly.

“Haha, impressive showmanship.”

***

Flynn furrowed his brows when he first saw Damian’s swordsmanship.

From the very first swing, it was evident. Damian didn’t use his waist or shoulders
correctly, which meant no real force behind the strike.

‘This is ludicrous.’

He couldn’t understand how someone who appeared never to have properly held a
sword before was undergoing the ‘Trial by Sword.’

As expected, Damian was hit and flung back to the starting point on the first attempt.

Watching this, Flynn shook his head.

Damian stood back up and charged at the Plantara again.

Contrary to expectations that the examination would end in a laughable fashion,

Damian’s unique movements on his next attempt piqued Flynn’s interest.

It looked like he was about to be knocked away again, but he was finding a strategic
method to attack the Plantara.

‘What is this?’

Damian made it halfway and then was sent flying back to the start once more.

And again, he rose and charged at the Plantara.

After observing the third attempt, Flynn briefly lost his words.

After two failed attempts, Damian found a strategy and was even beginning to take
down the Plantara one by one.
His movements were meticulous and calculated, yet on the other hand, they were
extremely aggressive. It seemed closer to the motion of a beast or monster with
extreme survival instincts rather than a human.

And he was penetrating deeper than before.

‘Was I at that level when I was sixteen?’

No, he was not. Even with his current skills, that level of movement was impossible.

Realizing that cutting in a conventional manner was futile, Damian resorted to

ruthlessly ripping apart the Plantara’s ankles.

It seemed implausible to break through within ten minutes, yet if given enough time,
it felt as if he could indeed reach Flynn.

The image reminded Flynn of a mad hunting dog breaking through a bramble path to
get to him.

Though bleeding from thorns and despite the blows, the dog would keep rushing
forward until it collapsed, aiming to tear at the prey’s throat.

His forearms bristled.

And when Damian threw his sword in what seemed like a moment of reaching his
limits, Flynn felt a sense of relief.

Flynn was evidently in a more advantageous position, and his pride was oddly hurt
by the relief he felt, but he had to admit it.

Given enough time, that man would find a way to cut down the flag.

Damian, having thrown his sword, seemed to have given up, closing his eyes.

But when it became clear that this was not the end, that there was a fourth attempt
left.

Flynn began to feel a sense of dread.

Strange pulses of light. Massive explosions and dust clouds as thick as fog.
And within it, every time a flash of light occurred, the mangled form of a Plantara
would be hurled out of the dust like a rag doll.

‘What in the world… What’s happening?’

Flynn couldn’t see but he could feel it.

The mana pressure, which was initially barely numbing the limbs, became
suffocating, and soon, it pressed upon his heart like a heavy weight.

It was coming.

Out of nowhere, as if a devil had sprung from the earth itself.

After several more flashes of light, the dust grew ominously quiet.

Flynn could sense it.

There were no Plantara left.

One minute remained.

Then, through the silence, steady footsteps approached, and a dark figure was
coming closer.

A long sword of light. And along with it, eyes that glinted like those of a wild beast.

Now it’s my turn.

Flynn poured all of his sword aura into the Dwarf-forged sword he held. His arms
were trembling uncontrollably without his notice.

Time was of the essence, but Damian was walking slowly.

It was as if he was saying it would take less than a minute to deal with Flynn.

He yelled loudly in an attempt to quell his fear.

“Damn it, come on, come on!”

The shadow moved, and the sword of light sliced through the air from low to high.

Then out of its trajectory, light sparked and a dazzling sword wave surged forth.

The sword wave hissed through the air and narrowly grazed Flynn’s left arm by a
mere span, before exploding against the shallow dirt wall of the arena.

A chill ran down his spine.

‘Did it miss?’

Immediately after, light flashed and another sword wave surged toward Flynn at a
blinding speed that left no time to react.

And again, this sword wave barely missed, whisking past Flynn’s right side.

Flynn then realized why the sword waves had missed him: Damian was in front of
him, blocking the path to the flag.

‘If I don’t move aside, I’ll die.’

These two sword waves were a warning to Flynn.

Or perhaps it was closer to mockery.

Anger swelled within Flynn.

To yield and step aside for fear of dying would be the utmost disgrace he’d ever faced
since taking up the sword.

Damian’s sword flickered several times. Soon after, the light from it dimmed.

Subsequently, the oppressive mana force pressuring Flynn seemed to weaken.

It was evident that Damian was becoming exhausted, perhaps from rampant use of
the sword waves.

‘I don’t know what this is, but his power is waning.’

There was no way Flynn would budge.

Sensing that Flynn wouldn’t move, Damian propelled himself forward and began
sprinting towards Flynn.

Only 30 seconds remained.

Flynn gritted his teeth.

“Come on, come on, come on!”

He pushed his sword aura to the maximum and let out a kiai.

It didn’t matter if he would be bedridden for days from exhaustion. He had to muster
up all his strength and bring it to an end.

Damian emerged through the dust, wielding a sword of light, and leapt.

And Damian, straight above Flynn’s forehead, brought his sword down.

Flynn, too, had mustered all his strength, swinging the Dwarf-forged sword up to
meet the blow.

Whoom!

Where the swords met, the air condensed momentarily before blasting outwards in
all directions.

Locked in the clash with their swords, Damian landed on the ground.

Under the weight of Damian’s descent, Flynn slowly rose to his feet.

Neither Flynn nor Damian took a step back, each pushing against the other’s sword.

Damian’s sword, which had grown semi-transparent, sliced through Flynn’s sword
aura and pressed in deep.

Creak, creak.

‘Impossible.’

The sword of light then tore through Flynn’s blade.

The sight was beyond belief for Flynn.

The Dwarf-made sword, known to cut through steel, was being overwhelmed.

And then something neither had anticipated happened.

The runes etched into the magic sword began to overheat, turning bright red.

Soon, the sword aura was wholly sucked into the runes, and the sword itself
violently vibrated uncontrollably.

Due to the sliced blade, the enchantment within had gone awry.

Ddddd!

The destabilized Dwarf-forged sword finally ignited in a sapphire explosion of mana.

Boom!

Both were blasted far apart by the explosion.

Flynn, hurled by the blast, rolled right up to the front of the flag.

And Damian was flung into the cloud of dust.

Flynn picked himself up, frantically ran to retrieve his magic sword, and took a
defensive stance.

Without a moment to check the state of his sword.

He kept his guard up, piercingly watching the cloud of dust into which Damian had
disappeared.

Only 20 seconds remained.

Damian was nowhere to be seen.

But his trace was unmistakable.

At the edge of the flying dust lay the sword of light, sprawled on the ground.
The sword flickered faintly, nearly depleted of its strength.

Flynn swallowed and watched the sword blink intermittently before finally
extinguishing a few seconds later.

The dust remained quiet still.

‘Finally, finally is it over?’

Flynn’s heart still pounded heavily.

He glanced back for a moment.

The flag had tipped over, caught in the fray, but was intact.

The examiners, too, seemed to have concluded the test was over, and they were all
walking towards the interior of the arena.

Just 10 seconds left.

But the examination was over.

If he had launched the sword wave direct at Flynn, Damian would have won.

If he had taken it head-on, Flynn would have ended up like the smashed Plantara.

But Damian hadn’t done that.

After all, it was Flynn who had successfully thwarted Damian.

The tension released, Flynn finally let his sword down and half-collapsed.

He caught his breath with ragged gasps and muttered to himself,

“It’s over.”

And at that moment, which no one had expected anything more to happen,

Something sliced through the wind from within the dust cloud.
And it zipped right past Flynn’s ear.

It was so sudden that he couldn’t react.

By the time Flynn fixed his gaze on the object, it had already rushed towards the flag
and, with a crack, shattered the flagpole.

What had flown out of the dust was one of the Plantara’s wooden swords.

Damian had been waiting for his chance until the very end.

“This… what…”

Shocked, Flynn was rendered speechless, fixated on the broken flagpole.

Everything seemed to stop, the world around him went silent.

As time passed, the dust gradually settled.

In the ravaged arena, the shattered Plantara steadily become visible.

At the center of it all lay Damian, unconscious and face down.

“Don’t resort to cheap tricks.”

Those were the words Flynn heard at about the age of 12, after defeating an older
senior in a practice duel.

It wasn’t that he had used any forbidden moves or broken any rules.

Simply put, he could see the trajectory of the swords and fully anticipate his
opponent’s intents. Once he saw a method to victory, he simply executed it.

This was all too natural for him, something he presumed was visible to everyone.
However, it turned out to be a gift uniquely his own.

People eventually began referring to him as a ‘genius.’

Born into a distinguished lineage of swordsmanship, he was honed by the finest

instructors.

Defeat was a rare experience for him, and the accolades of genius ingrained in his
ears had become tedious.

Even at the academy where prodigies were revered from all regions, Flynn held a
position at the apex of the pyramid.

There were superiors above him, yet Flynn considered any gaps approachable,
something he could definitely overcome.

‘I can ascend to the highest echelon with my sword.’

But as the flagpole snapped, Flynn’s faith shattered along with it.

All the renown, the prestige of his renowned swordsmanship house, and the name of
Eternia Academy seemed utterly futile.
Only then did he give the Dwarf-forged sword a closer inspection.

The blade, where it had collided with the strange sword, had been gouged out
halfway, damaging the runes etched into it.

What would Nash, his trusty friend, think if he saw this?

If he knew a freshman next year had caused this damage, he’d likely rib Flynn about
taking the wrong potion.

Though, Nash wouldn’t even hear of this incident since Flynn was sworn to secrecy.

Gael approached Flynn, offering a hand.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Flynn exhaled a heavy sigh.

“Master, I’ll undertake any other task… But I prefer not to do this again.”

Flynn was visibly shaken.

Gael, too, seemed to bear a knotted look of inner turmoil upon her face.

After quietly observing Flynn’s expression, she eventually unfolded her bundle of
emotions and spoke.

“…Don’t worry. No one like him will come along for at least several decades.”

Gael was acknowledging that Damian was indeed a peculiar existence.

Flynn grasped her hand and got to his feet.

“Your sword, Erzebet will see to it later. Our duty is now complete, we should wrap
up the remaining academic schedule.”

“Can’t I take a short rest beforehand?”

“Sadly, that’s not an option.”

Due to his uncompromising master, Flynn could not even afford to rest.

Flynn turned to glance quietly at Damian.

There were many questions he wanted to ask once Damian awakened, though it
seemed such interactions were not yet permissible.

Sooner or later, Damian would inevitably cross paths with Flynn and Gael again.

The entrance examinations were merely a month away.

Excluding travel time to the academy, less than two weeks remained.

***

The examiners and Erzebet walked slowly to where Damian lay. Silveryn followed
suit beside them.

They hardly spoke amongst themselves.

A female examiner checked Damian’s condition.

“He’s got some internal bleeding.”

She recited a spell under her breath. Soon, a bluish light began to emanate from her
hands and delicately entered into Damian’s body.

Rising to her feet, she turned to Silveryn and said,

“I’ve put him into a deep sleep for about a night. When he wakes, he should be
completely healed.”

“Thank you.”

As if anticipating this, another examiner pulled out a rolled-up parchment from the
folds of her robe.

Unfurling the scroll, she released her hold and the parchment hovered stiffly in
midair.
The unpacking examiner proceeded to stamp her name inscribed on it.

The levitating parchment then made its way to the next examiner.

This individual used long, thin nails to sign their name.

There, a small flame singed a mark, leaving a blackened signature.

The parchment continued, passing from one official to the next until it finally
reached Erzebet’s hands.

Erzebet touched the line marked for Gael’s name, her fingertip tracing over the
space.

Where her touch passed, the space became a signature line marked for Erzebet.

And with that, she completed her own signature.

The signing complete, the parchment rolled up again. Moments later, a stitch
swooped down from somewhere, snatched the parchment, and soared high out of
sight.

***

Silveryn sat perched on the bed.

Damian lay beside her, fast asleep, oblivious to the world.

She watched him quietly as she smoothed his tousled hair.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you take care of someone like that,” a voice remarked.

Silveryn shifted her gaze toward the source of the voice.

There was Erzebet, standing on the balcony, her back against the sunlight, looking
towards Silveryn.

“I said I would take responsibility,” Silveryn replied.

The Silveryn Erzebet knew was not someone who normally took responsibility for
others.

“Apart from his abilities, is there another reason you chose Damian?” Erzebet
inquired.

Silveryn responded with a moment of silence. Instead of answering, she changed the
conversation.

“Why didn’t you follow Gael back to the academy?”

It was a question from Erzebet to which Silveryn didn’t feel the need to answer.

Erzebet, not pressing Silveryn further, remarked,

“I’ll be heading to the capital.”

“The capital?”

“Yes. The Saintess doesn’t have much time left.”

The fact that Saintess Florence had limited time remaining was a closely guarded
secret.

“She has lived quite a long life; it’s to be expected,” Erzebet added.

“But you must feel it too— the holy power that guards the land is also losing its
strength.”

“And the next candidate?”

The next Saintess, Azelis, was also a participant in this Masters Class. She still
needed time to prepare.

Erzebet shook her head.

“She’s too young; her holy power is yet undeveloped.”

Until the candidate was fully ready, there would be a void in holy power.

And in that void, others looking to increase their power would emerge.
“That explains why there have been more ghouls lately. I suspected as much…”

Erzebet nodded in agreement.

“The real action is about to begin. I don’t know exactly when, but it won’t be long.
And when the time comes, we’ll need your power.”

Silveryn was to venture to the North again.

“…”

Silveryn sank into a moment of contemplative silence.

She turned to look at Damian again. As she gazed at him, any hardness in Silveryn’s
expression softened. She placed her hand lightly on his cheek, caressing it gently.

“When the time comes, I’ll entrust Damian to you.”

Erzebet nodded quietly in acknowledgment.

***

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed.

I had no idea how long I had been asleep. Given the toll the ordeal must have taken
on my body, I was surprisingly light on my feet.

Before I could fully assess my condition, I was taken aback by a completely

unexpected sight.

Erzebet was sitting quietly on a chair to the right of my bed, utterly engrossed in her
reading.

Why is she here of all places?

I froze as if a wasp had landed on my head.

It was like I’d been struck by lightning out of the blue.

Erzebet looked up from her book and said,

“Ah, you’ve woken up.”

As I hesitated in tension for a moment, she continued,

“I witnessed your performance.”

“Thank you… and I apologize for destroying the Plantara that had been created.”

She shook her head.

“No need to worry about that. I’ve brought them here to be destroyed anyway. The
only one I made is just a single one.”

Having some experience with carving myself, I understood well. But by the looks of
it, it would take weeks to create just one.

Honestly, while destroying them, I felt more regret than pleasure.

“So the ones I destroyed were made by someone else…”

“No, they were made by the other Plantara.”

“…?”

For a moment, my brain stalled.

So, what she’s saying is, the Plantara created other Plantara? And she only made
one?

Erzebet was looking at me with a hint of a smile.

What are these magicians up to?

I’m starting to understand why Silveryn insisted I must get acquainted with a
magician.

“First things first, I must tell you. You’ve passed the Masters Class examination.”

“…!”
“In Eternia’s history, over the past hundred years, only fifty-two people have entered
the Masters Class. It’s that much of an honor. That’s also the reason I’ve waited to tell
you myself until you woke up.”

“It’s an honor to hear it from you directly.”

Talking like this, as if I was entertaining Eternia’s headmaster at a sickbed visit, gave
me an odd sense of feeling.

“That was a peculiar sword you used. It seems best to keep your power hidden for a
while.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“The owner of a magic sword is always in flux, and it only truly ends when one at the
very end of the food chain holds it. Remember this always.”

Does it mean my sword is to be sealed for a while again?

“Then… does this mean I shouldn’t use a sword at the academy either?”

Erzebet shook her head.

“If it’s for your growth, you’ll need to make active use of your sword in the academy.
However, there is a condition.”

She pulled out a thick encyclopedic-size wooden box from under the bed and handed
it to me.

“This is a gift given to those who enter the Masters Class.”

I took it and opened the box.

Inside was a wooden mask.

“…?”

Turning it over to examine the inside that would touch the face, I found a unique
magic circle inscribed there.
“This will conceal your identity. Wearing this mask when you use your sword is the
condition.”

“Did everyone who entered the Masters Class receive this mask?”

She shook her head.

“We provide a disguise artifact, one that suits and can be well-utilized by that
person.”

So, a mask fits best for concealing my identity.

I placed the mask lightly against my face.

Soon after, my hair began to tint with a deep reddish-black.

This was the first artifact I’d ever used in my life.

Not bad at all.

Even before the entrance ceremony, I had received my first assignment from Eternia.

That was to lead a double life wearing a mask.

“What should I do if I accidentally reveal my identity?”

Human affairs are unpredictable, and there are many perceptive individuals at the
academy. It might be somewhat tough to hide everything with a single artifact. I
needed an appropriate backup plan for any situation that might arise.

“I was just about to talk about that,” Erzebet cut in.

“We’ll erase the memories.”

I doubted my ears for a moment. Memory manipulation was a taboo in the realm of
magic, known even to an outsider like me.

“Only if it is assessed to be a threat to you,” Erzebet continued.

It was hard to swallow. It wasn’t a matter of gentle persuasion or threats of

disadvantages but erasing memories outright?

Was the Masters Class position that critical? Would its exposure cause severe
problems?

Additionally, I heard that many from reputable noble houses and esteemed lineages
were in Eternia.

Would they also be subjected to memory manipulation without hesitation?

“Does everyone’s memory get erased? Without exception?”

Erzebet nodded.

“Even if it’s the royalty.”

Touching the royal family carelessly could lead to serious repercussions. In the
worst-case scenario, it could even lead to war.

She indicated they would risk that much to protect the Masters Class.

She then stood up and walked towards my desk, looking around my room slowly.

“Of course, it is best not to create such a situation in the first place. We could make
an exception if there is someone thoroughly trustworthy, who also provides you
support.”

“…Could I be subjected to memory manipulation?”

She began examining my desk, picking up each of the items I had made, including
petal candies I had crafted following a recipe from Liria and ornaments made from
meteor iron.

“Masters Class are an exception.”

At least that was a relief.

But as I thought more about memory manipulation, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of
dread towards Eternia.

If they could conduct forbidden magic on royalty, what level of power did Eternia
hold?

I even started to doubt whether this academy was really founded solely for the
purpose of education.

While I was absorbed in thought, she continued to scrutinize my belongings

meticulously.

She spoke of such alarming matters while maintaining a composed demeanor.

It appeared she wasn’t concerned about what I was thinking.

“You have a good hand,” she remarked.

“…?”
Without asking, she placed one of the petal candies into her mouth.

She savored the taste briefly and then spoke.

“This is a new experience for me. Did you make this?”

“I made it based on a recipe I received.”

A soft smile appeared on Erzebet’s face.

She seemed to speak favorably of the candy.

“You seem talented in alchemy too… You would likely adapt well to the magic
faculty.”

“…That’s an overstatement.”

I didn’t even know what magic studies entailed. I was anxious that one misstep in
conversation might get me dragged off to some strange place.

After pausing to take in the atmosphere – which wasn’t too bad – I got up from the
bed and opened a drawer. Inside was a small gift box, neatly tied with a ribbon.

I had prepared these petal candies ahead of time, knowing that a distinguished mage
would be visiting. I thought she would be a tough person to approach and had not
expected to be able to hand them over.

My intuition told me that if not now, there might not be another chance.

I nervously approached her and offered her the gift box with formality. I couldn’t
help feeling shaky before such a prestigious person.

Her eyes widened slightly at this unexpected gesture.

“May I inquire what this is?”

“These are the same candies that you’ve just tasted. I made them for you to enjoy on
your return journey, considering the long distance you’ve traveled. It’s sudden, I
know, but I felt that if not now, then there might not be another chance.”
Erzebet fell silent for a moment, not reaching for the gift.

My mouth went dry.

In that brief silence, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind.

Was it too abrupt? Did I overstep my bounds? Have I made a mistake?

“I shouldn’t accept things from students,” she finally said.

“…”

I messed up. I had overstepped.

Watching my face, Erzebet suddenly covered her mouth and laughed.

“You’re more charming than you seem. I think I understand why your mentor holds
you in such high regard,” she said after a moment.

“…”

“As you haven’t officially enrolled yet, it shouldn’t be a problem to accept this.”

Was she teasing me because I was visibly tense?

Despite her noble appearance that makes it seem she would be unapproachable, she
surprisingly had a playful streak.

She continued, writing in the air with her finger.

Sssss.

Soon thereafter, runes burst with bright yellow flames in the air.

“It doesn’t matter what you give.”

With a swift motion of her hand, Erzebet sent those characters flying into a wrought
iron bracelet I had made as practice, embedding them one by one into the metal.

Wait, was that an enchantment? Artifacts are created this easily?

She handed me the wrought iron bracelet, which glowed red where the characters
were inscribed, as if smithed in fire.

“A fitting reward for a good gift,” she said.

Truth be told, I had prepared the candies with somewhat mercenary intentions.

Though just leaving a small favor or a good impression would’ve been enough, I
thought.

“That seems too grand a gift in return.”

“It’s no significant effort for me, so don’t worry. Just keep it a secret that you received
it from me.”

“…”

I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it seemed like a good thing, so I accepted it.

I slipped the bracelet around my left wrist.

“This will protect you from minor curses. It’s nothing extraordinary, but it has good
synergy with meteor iron.”

“…Thank you.”

I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that Silveryn’s advice had been effective.

***

I inquired with the butler about Silveryn’s whereabouts.

I was informed that she had gone out for a short walk.

I made my way to the lakeshore and strolled along the sandy beach.

The sun shone brightly and the breeze was refreshingly mild.

From a distance, I saw Silveryn.

She had spread a mat and sat meekly, in lightweight clothing, gazing out at the
rippling lake.

It seemed she hadn’t noticed me approaching.

The wind tossed her hair, and she welcomed it with a cheerful disposition.

I felt my mood starting to lift as well.

I paused, watching her, contemplating the serenity of the scene.

It was like a painting, and I felt that intruding would be like tarnishing the image.

Suddenly, Silveryn looked around and saw me, beckoning me over.

“When did you get here? Come this way.”

She patted an empty space on the mat, as if inviting me to sit down.

As I took a seat beside her, she resumed her peaceful contemplation of the lakeside.

Silveryn appeared different from usual. She wasn’t wearing any of her ornate
jewelry.

Not her large earrings, nor the gem-encrusted rings and necklaces.

These accessories usually reinforced her ‘magician’ aura.

But seeing her now, adorned so simply, she just looked like any beautiful noble lady.

“Master.”

“Mm?”

“When are we heading to Eternia?”

It would take several weeks to reach the academy. It seemed we needed to start
preparing soon if we were to arrive without incident.

“You’ve just completed a difficult task, yet you’re already thinking of the next one.
Soon. We won’t have many more days to enjoy this lake, so cherish this moment, my
apprentice.”

Silveryn seemed happier than usual.

I’m not well-versed in the ways of savoring life. I just lived as it came, enduring day
by day to get to this point.

Following her lead, I turned my gaze to the lake. The view was indeed wonderful.

“We won’t be coming back here after the entrance exams, will we?”

“Right.”

The journey between the academy and Wesel took a month in itself. Once we left, we
would remain at the academy until the enrollment ceremony.

Following her reply, Silveryn remained quiet for some time.

Then, she abruptly changed the topic.

“Did you know? Vampires were quite fond of this lake, too.”

“…That’s a bit eerie.”

I remembered then that Silveryn’s estate was once a vampire’s dwelling. Perhaps
Wesel had deep affiliations with vampires.

“Vampires live on forever and remember everything. They saw it as a curse, forever
holding memories they longed to forget.”

She then said,

“Do you know what they called this lake? The Lake of Oblivion. They claimed this
lake was so beautiful, idly gazing upon it melts away the torments of the past, leaving
one to concentrate solely on the living, breathing present.”

“And what about you, Master? How do you feel?”

“Um, I think there might be some truth to that. What about you?”
“I’m not sure…”

To me, the lake was just a lake.

“However, ever since I arrived in Weisel, it’s true my old memories seem to have
grown fainter.”

Had I stayed in Haman, I would have remembered everything as the vampires did.

I would have kept those who left me engraved in a corner of my heart, harboring
resentment.

But after meeting Silveryn, much changed.

Unbeknownst to me, the past that’d once weighed upon me gradually blurred and I
ceased to harbor any resentment toward anyone.

I felt less fettered, a little more at liberty.

“That’s good enough. Make some room. That way, new folks can join in.”
The next morning, Silveryn and I stood at the front door of the mansion to bid
farewell to Erzebet and the examiners.

We remained there until their carriage became a small dot in the distance,
disappearing from our view.

Silveryn spoke.

“I heard you gave Erzebet a gift?”

“Yes. I followed your advice and gave her the candies. She seemed quite pleased with
them.”

“Good job.”

Silveryn hesitated briefly before continuing.

“…And you gave that little alchemist kid a gift, too.”

“Yes, and thanks to her, I received an interesting candy recipe. Fortunately, things
managed to work out well.”

The candy recipe turned into a kind of snowball effect, leading to an artifact.

I’m not sure what curses that artifact may block, nor do I understand its impact, but
simply knowing a legendary magician gave it to me felt reassuring.

However, Silveryn has been silent since my response. Is there a problem?

Her facial expression seems the same as usual, but I can sense a subtle difference in
the atmosphere.

It’s a strange, indescribable aura.

Thinking about it, she’s again without her usual jewelry today. Has there been some
change in her sentiments?

“Master, is something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re not wearing your usual ornaments.”

She crossed her arms and didn’t even meet my eyes as she responded.

“I don’t know.”

Just that answer alone felt uncharacteristically cold for some reason.

Does she not want to talk about it?

Or is it something to do with me?

“……?”

Something is up. Yesterday, she seemed in a good mood, but something overnight
seemed to have disturbed Silveryn’s peace of mind.

While I was deep in thought, she broke the silence with new information.

“By the way, we received an invitation from that knightly order’s Master Popper. He’s
asking us to attend the social gathering tomorrow.”

Right, there was a social gathering. I had been so focused on the academy that I
completely forgot about it.

“We can’t not go, right?”

“Hmm. It would be somewhat troublesome not to show up, considering we have our
share of connections. Plus, you already agreed to go, so there’s no helping it.”

That’s right. I had absent-mindedly agreed to attend the social gathering when it was
suggested after the ghoul hunt.
“Uh… There won’t be dancing involved, will there?”

If that were the case, I was ready to snap my Achilles tendon right there and then.

“If you don’t want to, they won’t force you. But it might be good to learn in advance.
At Eternia, balls are held every semester.”

Eternia… Balls?

And they’re held every semester?

That was a bolt from the blue.

“If you can’t find a partner at those balls, it’s utterly miserable. The label of ‘the fool
who couldn’t get a partner’ sticks with you for the entire semester. And just so you
know, partners who can’t dance are not popular.”

That’s the most terrifying thing Silveryn has told me so far.

Eternia was suddenly looking quite daunting.

“Why do you sound so serious?”

“Well, experiencing a fall from grace at a ball could turn out to be a valuable lesson.”

“……”

After saying that, Silveryn turned sharply and walked back into the mansion.

She seemed a little off today.

Liria, who had been observing from beside the maids, crept up to me quietly.

She removed a ring from her finger.

“Um… I’ll keep this ring hidden for a while. It’s not that I don’t like it. I just think it’s
better this way…”

After saying that, Liria tucked the ring into her pocket and walked briskly back
inside.
The maids shook their heads at me as I stood there dumbfounded.

“……”

So, it’s because of me?

***

The mansion was busily preparing for various reasons.

The maids had to gather supplies for the long journey to Eternia, and since I
wouldn’t be able to use the alchemy lab for a while, I needed to prepare plenty of
potions in advance.

In the midst of all that, I made a special request to the butler.

He was taking my measurements for a tailcoat as he looked at me with a puzzled

expression.

“You don’t need to go to all this trouble. If you need something, I can just bring it to
you.”

“No, it’s really important. Please sell this meteor iron ring and bring me something
that fits exactly within the amount earned from it.”

I’ll probably get less than it’s worth since it’s an urgent sale.

Although it was a pity, preparing a gift for Silveryn with Silveryn’s money defied
reason. It had to be from my own effort to be meaningful.

“And please keep it a secret from the Master. At least until tomorrow night.”

“Understood.”

After sending off the butler, I let out a sigh.

I had assumed that Silveryn had too many extravagant ornaments for my
craftsmanship to be of any need. It seems I was wrong.

I’ll have to distribute my gifts more thoughtfully in the future.

I headed back down to the lab, where Liria was busily crafting griffin potions.

I joined her with the potion work. Since I could not take all six barrels of griffin blood
with me, I needed to condense as much as possible into potions.

With all the preparations for our journey to Eternia, the day quickly passed by.

***

The soft sounds of violins and cellos filled the air.

The closer we got to the banquet hall, the clearer the sounds of the gathering
became.

Whispers grew louder as people noticed our carriage emblazoned with the Eternia
crest.

Unlike me, Silveryn appeared as relaxed as if she were simply going out for a walk in
front of our home. It was no surprise, considering she had probably been to such
gatherings countless times.

The carriage came to a stop, and with a click, the door opened.

Silveryn alighted first, and I followed. Around us, dozens of old-fashioned carriages
were lined up side by side.

The social event was being held at the Knightly Order’s training grounds.

People huddled in groups on the spacious lawn with drinks in hand.

A server who opened our carriage door guided us.

“Master Popper is waiting for you.”

***

This social gathering wasn’t merely about bringing people together to enjoy a
banquet.

Strictly speaking, it resembled a send-off ceremony, celebrating the hopes of passing,

with Joyce, Felix, and a few other knights as the event’s stars who would be headed
to Eternia for the entrance exam.

They were continuously surrounded by a throng of young ladies throughout the

event.

The label of a prospective Eternia student whetted the nobility’s greed and vanity.

If these individuals were to become real students of Eternia, they would turn into
incredibly valuable connections.

And there was one person everyone was anxiously awaiting.

The biggest catch of this quaint village social.

The reason so many nobles had gathered in this small hamlet.

It was Eternia’s professor Silveryn and her apprentice.

On one side of the bustle, a path cleared and two individuals walked by.

One could recognize them without any mention; their striking features were just as
rumored, without any exaggeration needed.

Countess Sinatra’s only daughter and Master Popper’s niece, Nancy, felt indifferent
upon hearing Damian was arriving.

Though Popper had offered to arrange a meeting with Damian, she had promptly
refused and requested an introduction to someone else instead.

She believed she had already encountered Damian.

The swordsman she met before, wielding a mysterious sword inscribed with runes
cutting down ghouls, had a somewhat brute appearance, unlike the rumors.

Having her fantasy shattered, she had quickly declined and was now mingling with
someone else.

Joyce already had a match considered for betrothal, and the one she ultimately
selected was Felix.
Even though Damian was an apprentice to an academy professor, he was still just an
Eternia aspirant, same as anyone else.

She saw greater potential in Felix, the largest and most confident member of the
Knightly Order.

Felix tirelessly expounded on why Damian wasn’t anything special, and his theory
came across as quite convincing to Nancy.

While she was mingling with Felix at the banquet, Nancy noticed a crowd gathered in
one area and felt curious.

At the center, there were two attractive young people walking by, and what caught
her eye was a handsome man with brown hair.

Nancy pulled Felix along, squeezing through the crowd to her cousin who was
spectating.

“Just who is everyone making a fuss over?”

“The top connection at this social gathering…”

“So who is it?”

“Who else but the archmage Silveryn and her apprentice Damian.”

Damian?

He looked nothing like the man she had seen before.

At that moment, Nancy realized there must have been some misunderstanding.

“…Wait, just a moment!”

Nancy threw down her glass and dashed straight to the VIP room where Popper was.

Felix, clueless about what was happening, could only watch as Nancy rushed away.

***
Entering the VIP room, Popper greeted them with open arms.

He kissed Silveryn’s hand to show his respect and gave Damian a handshake filled
with notable vigor.

“Thank you so much for gracing us with your presence all the way from afar.”

Silveryn responded with nonchalance.

“You’re too kind.”

Popper led them to the reception sofa. He sat facing Damian with a contented smile.

After an exchange of small talk, Popper made a discreet cough and called a servant.

“Let them in now.”

Shortly afterward, the doors to the VIP room opened and two young ladies entered.

“I have someone I’d like to introduce to you.”

As they stood next to Popper, the introductions followed.

“This here is my youngest daughter Bologna and my niece Nancy.”

Popper’s daughters curtseyed in greeting.

“It’s a genuine honor to meet both of you, whose reputations precede you from
Weisel.”

Silveryn outright ignored the greeting, and Damian acknowledged it with a hesitant
face.

Popper said to Damian.

“I’ve heard that balls are also held at Eternia. Along with your swordsmanship, I am
very much looking forward to your dancing skills.”

Damian, with an expression of discomfort, replied,

“The only dance I know involves the sword.”

Popper laughed heartily, slapping his thigh.

“Hahaha! Seems you’re no different from the other swordsmen. Back in my youth, I
was the same. Fought bravely against beasts, but trembled at the knees in front of a
dance floor at balls.”

Popper continued.

“There is a good reason for arranging this seat. Nancy, Bologna, could you teach
Damian a few dance steps? Since the grand wizard and I have some urgent matters
to discuss, it wouldn’t be proper etiquette to leave our esteemed guest alone.”

Both Bologna and Nancy nodded vigorously.

Damian’s face paled.

As the two led Damian out, Silveryn spoke up.

“You’re being rather blatant here, Popper.”

Popper gazed pensively after them and said,

“In a few years, they’ll be of marriageable age; there’s no harm in them getting to
know each other.”

“Well, I think it’s a bit early,” Silveryn retorted.

“Haha, and here I thought you might even meddle in your apprentice’s marriage
affairs.”

“There are plenty of chances to meet someone in Eternia, and as you can see, Damian
is not someone who needs to worry about missing out. If anything, the problem
might be the opposite – he might catch someone too early.”

“I’m aware that Damian has no surname. If he were to gain the backing of a
prestigious house, wouldn’t it allow him to stand tall in the ruthless world of
Eternia?”
“Aren’t I here to support Damian?”

Realizing his gaffe, Popper coughed awkwardly.

“Ahem, being in a professorial role as you are, you can’t look after everything
concerning that young man.”

Popper wasn’t entirely insistent.

Now that they would be in Eternia, the dynamic between them would change to that
of professor and student; it was no longer possible to openly care for him as before.

Yet there were many ways in which Damian lacked, and his biggest vulnerability was
his status.

His station made him susceptible to political strife, which could leave him crushed
without the means to resist.

While Silveryn was present, there was no concern, but the problem would arise
when she was absent.

If Damian were to gain noble patronage, it could protect him from political threats.

It was crucial to forge as many alliances as possible in Damian’s favor.

Someone like Popper would be a good start.

He might have been cunning, but at least he wasn’t malevolent.

Silveryn cut to the chase.

“So, what is it that you want?”

Running his hand through his beard, Popper replied,

“Hoho, straight to the point I see. I’ll be direct then. I would like to offer my support
to your apprentice on this occasion.”
I didn’t even take a sip before tossing the contents of my cup over the balcony rail
into an empty spot out of sight.

Inside, my mind was conjuring up various pretexts.

Various self-justifications that I wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing or I’m better off
being alone.

I lied about having a upset stomach from drinking poorly and left the young noble
ladies behind in the banquet hall.

I had to admit it to myself; I was running away.

I glanced over the tailcoat draped on my body. It’s supposed to have been tailored to
fit me, but it didn’t feel right at all; it felt suffocating.

Those people lived in a completely different world from mine.

I grew up eating barley porridge that one might feed to livestock, while they
nourished themselves on lamb and honey wine.

I doubted whether there could be any intersection of interests between us, whether
genuine conversation and empathy could ever be established.

“Why are you out here all by yourself? It’s rare to get such an opportunity.”

Turning around, I saw Silveryn walking towards me, silhouetted against the unlit
balcony.

“Master.”

“Looks like you won’t face the disgrace of not finding a partner at the ball, will you?”
Was that a sarcastic way of teasing me?

“Given that I’m out here by myself?”

“No. Seeing the faces of those girls you left behind; they were heartbroken. Seems
like you’re stabbing hearts everywhere you go.”

“……”

For some reason, Silveryn seemed to be in a good mood.

“What’s the matter, my apprentice? Do you have too high standards, or is there
another woman you’ve got your eye on?”

Being with Silveryn has raised my standards unduly, but that wasn’t the issue.

“Those women think I’m some kind of prince.”

I showed her the palm of my right hand.

“These calluses, they imagine I got them from training under a noble house, wielding
a mighty enchanted sword, while the truth is they’re from toiling with hammer and
steel in the workshop.”

Silveryn approached me, tossing the contents of her cup over the balcony rail as well.

“They’re living in a fantasy, just looking at my shell. I’d rather not play along with
that beat. That’s not really me.”

“Human relationships are like a masquerade ball, especially among nobles. If they
view you as a prince, play along a little. There’s no harm in it.”

“I’m not sure if there’s any meaning to it.”

Silveryn replied soothingly,

“You don’t need to find meaning right from the start. And do you really think there’s
no point if you’re wearing a mask?”

“…”
I found myself at a loss for words with Silveryn’s sudden question.

“Girls like that are used to getting attention and courted all the time. How do you
think they feel when they’ve been rejected outright like that?”

“Will they end up hating me?”

“If not now, they will if they feel there’s no reciprocation for the attention and
affection they’ve poured out.”

“…”

“Affection from women is a double-edged sword. Deal with it moderately, without

tipping the scale too far one way. At least then, they’ll be on your side.”

Whether those young ladies fancy me or not has little bearing on me. I’m leaving
soon anyway, and even if we part on good terms, it’ll be hard to keep in touch once
I’m at the academy.

To me, Silveryn is the one who matters.

Suddenly, a question crosses my mind.

When Silveryn mentioned ‘women’, was she including herself?

“And the Knightly Order wants to sponsor you.”

“Out of the blue?”

“Yes. They’ll provide support every semester. It might be money or perhaps the
herbs you need. They’ll give you whatever you need.”

It won’t be just a freebie.

“What’s the catch?”

“They want you to attend this social gathering every year.”

The reward seems quite generous for just showing up once a year.
“What do you think, Master?”

“If you’re confident you can keep the promise, then take it. It’s not that difficult to
come down here during the vacation to attend. Having noble connections can benefit
you in many ways.”

It doesn’t seem like a bad deal.

If Silveryn also says so, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to refuse.

***

Silveryn, tired of the crowd’s attention, retreated to her assigned VIP room.

Nobody could say anything about her leaving; that’s her privilege.

I, on the other hand, still had to mind the nobles and found myself driven back into
the hall.

Nancy and Bologna brightened up when I returned.

I decided to follow Silveryn’s advice to the letter.

They seemed to realize I detest dancing and didn’t press the issue.

They seemed to be catering to my tastes.

As we strolled slowly across the training ground’s grass, they bombarded me with
various questions.

“How did you meet Miss Silveryn?”

“When did you start learning swordsmanship?”

“Please, tell us the story of the ghoul hunt.”

I spiced up my responses with some tall tales.

They politely reacted and listened attentively to my stories.

The conversation naturally drifted towards swordsmanship, and I sweated over
keeping up with their questions.

I knew next to nothing about the subject myself.

Bologna pointed to a corner of the training ground where a crowd had gathered,
something of interest apparently unfolding as people encircled an area.

There were occasional gasps and bursts of applause.

“Do you want to go see?”

***

Off to one side of the training ground, a small tournament was underway.

As the Knightly Order organized the social gathering, dueling served as the best
amusement and spectacle for them.

In the center, surrounded by onlookers, two men stripped of their outerwear down
to rolled-up white shirts and trousers, swinging wooden swords, engaging in fierce
combat.

Each time the swords crossed, there erupted exclaims from the audience.

The dueling knights wore smiles, the crowd enjoying the light entertainment.

After several exchanges, the wooden sword of one knight flew away from the impact
of a strong hit.

The audience roared with applause.

“Julian, three victories in a row!”

Felix stood among the crowd, glaring at a boy across from him who remained
unaware of Felix’s presence. Next to the boy was a familiar face.

Nancy had shown interest in Felix until Damian appeared at the social gathering,
after which she immediately clung to Damian.
She no longer spared Felix even a glance.

To him, Damian was an unwanted guest. This gathering was for the Knightly Order
and its members, yet here was a non-member basking in his master’s glory
pretending to be the man of the hour.

‘You don’t belong here.’

Felix had been telling Nancy how much of a fraud Damian was.

Research into the remains of their ghoul hunt in the cellar revealed his lackluster
swordsmanship; he was masquerading as a fighting genius thanks to an enchanted
sword he had received from his master.

Nancy had appeared to believe Felix when he told the tale, but seemingly she had
been harboring other thoughts.

Now she stood flush with excitement, chatting merrily and shoulder to shoulder with
Damian.

Felix gritted his teeth.

He could validate his claims right here, right now.

The Knightly way.

“Next challenger!”

The man in charge of the event shouted, and Felix stepped forward to pick up a
wooden sword lying on the ground.

Felix stood before Julian, continuing his streak of three wins.

It was a wooden sword duel, different from real sword fighting. Being hit by a
wooden sword would at most leave a bruise, no serious injury involved.

For Felix, with his larger build and physical strength, it was a contest easily
conquered by force.

The duel began.

After a brief period of gauging his opponent, Felix lunged.

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

Felix relentlessly hammered down on Julian’s wooden sword.

Though Julian struck Felix’s body, it didn’t phase him.

The sheer dominance prompted cheers from some in the audience and sighs from
others.

“Take it easy, for God’s sake.”

Eventually, Julian conceded defeat and lowered his sword.

“Victory for Felix!”

Luke-warm applause spread through the audience.

“Any next challengers?”

No one stepped forward as Felix had displayed such an overwhelming force based on
size and strength alone.

The training ground quieted down until the crowd’s attention suddenly focused on
one spot.

Soon, a path was made for a boy at the center around whom everyone was parting
ways.

There stood Damian with Nancy and Bologna, the crowd implicitly marking him as
the next challenger, almost as if arranged for a duel.

Immediately whispers spread over the training ground.

All eyes were filled with anticipation, looking at Damian.

Damian looked troubled, hesitating until the overwhelming gaze of the audience
made him reluctantly enter the dueling ring.
Felix inwardly smiled. Things were going exactly as he wanted.

He was a head taller than Damian.

He had a clear advantage in weight class, and in a wooden sword duel, Damian
couldn’t rely on his enchanted sword.

It was just a matter of time before Damian’s subpar swordsmanship was exposed.

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder.

“Just a moment!”

“Let’s have a look!”

News of Damian, Silveryn’s apprentice, participating in the duel spread like wildfire,
drawing people from the banquet, who left their enjoyment to crowd around the
dueling area.

In no time, the audience had nearly tripled in size.

Everyone was gleaming with anticipation over Damian’s next move.

The man in charge, seeing the sudden influx, decided to change the duel rules
slightly.

“Alright, the duel will be a best-of-five series!”

He seemed reluctant to let the match end in a single round.

Damian picked up the fallen wooden sword and briefly checked its condition.

Seeing this, Felix snickered.

‘What good will that do?’

Handing over his tailcoat to Nancy after stripping it off, Damian finally faced Felix,
readying his stance.
The small duel that these energetic knights engaged in had unexpectedly turned into
the biggest event of the social gathering.

Each onlooker had their own way of watching the spectacle.

Several elder nobles whispered to each other, exchanging gold coins back and forth.

They were placing bets on who would win.

Those who understood the essence of wooden sword dueling foresaw Felix’s upper
hand.

Some of the ladies cast admiring glances at Damian’s raised forearms and the skin
revealed by his loosened upper button.

In a corner among the crowd, Joyce also stood with his arms folded, calmly observing
the duel. Internally, he was almost dying from curiosity about how Damian would
perform.

In fact, amidst the rampant rumors, not a single person in that crowd had ever seen
Damian swing a sword with their own eyes.

Joyce naturally had his hopes pinned on Damian.

To Joyce, who was well-versed in swordsmanship, it was apparent that Damian was
placed at a significant disadvantage.

Felix was likely to charge in, disregarding even the implicit rules of wooden sword
dueling.

Simply touching the vital points with the wooden sword would not determine the
outcome.
The nobles neither understood nor cared about this issue; they were only concerned
with who appeared to be winning to the eye.

Thus, one had to show utter dominance, whether through strength or skill.

Damian was positioned with one hand behind his back, gripping the wooden sword
solely in the other hand, indicating he was not planning to counter with brute force.

The referee stood between Felix and Damian, stretching out his arms wide.

Once both were ready, the referee shouted to begin and quickly stepped back.

‘It begins.’

The crowd watched with tension etched on their faces.

Felix stood firmly in place, glaring into Damian’s face for a few seconds.

Damian, too, stood still, awaiting Felix’s approach.

Soon after, Felix charged towards Damian like a bull enraged.

Damian backed up with a few steps and, as Felix drew near, he abruptly sidestepped.

Felix’s sword cleaved through nothing but air.

Simultaneously, the crowd emitted anxious gasps.

Felix turned around and launched himself at Damian once more.

Damian, as if performing a sleight of hand, narrowly dodged the incoming sword,

then swept Felix’s leading foot.

Felix’s hefty frame lost balance.

His upper body tilted forward at a 90-degree angle, and he seemed poised to crash to
the ground.

Floundering, he finally ended up sprawled face-down.

“Phahaha!”

Perhaps the sight was comically pathetic, for explosive laughter burst forth from the
crowd.

Felix’s face flared with humiliation as he lay there.

“Damn.”

At the moment he tried to lift himself to counterattack, the cold touch of a wooden
sword met his throat.

Felix became petrified in place.

Damian had approached with his sword’s point already aimed at Felix’s neck.

While a body blow could be ignored, a blade at the throat in a helpless state was a
different matter altogether.

This left no room for excuses; it was an undeniable defeat for Felix.

Felix bit down hard on his teeth.

“Damian wins!”

“Wow!”

Applause accompanied by exclamations rippled through the crowd.

Damian, stone-faced, turned around and walked back to the starting position.

Joyce was inwardly impressed. Damian had crafted a no-frills narrative of victory,
predicting exactly how Felix would attack.

Felix quickly rose and walked back to the starting point.

Still fired up, he gave Damian a slight prod as he passed by him.

“Are you so scared of clashing swords directly? Just resorting to cowardly tricks,
huh?”
Damian wore a face of indifference even in the face of the provocation.

Once the referee confirmed they were ready, he raised his arm and let out a shout
indicating the start of the second round.

Felix was a bit more cautious this time; he had a gut feeling that a head-on charge
wouldn’t work again.

He faked threatening jabs at Damian with his long reach.

However, Damian didn’t budge at such feints.

“Damn it.”

Impatience got the better of Felix, and he reverted to his instinctual approach,
rushing in again.

Damian reacted by ducking down.

Felix’s wooden sword just barely missed Damian’s shoulder yet again.

Damian didn’t retreat but pressed his shoulder underneath Felix’s elbow instead.

This caused their bodies to clash and their arms to entangle, bringing the scrimmage
to a halt.

‘What’s going on…?’

Then once more, Felix felt a cold touch at his throat.

Blinking, he took a moment to grasp what had just happened.

Close in contact, Damian’s sword tip was again resting at his throat.

It felt like the duel had ended before anything had actually taken place.

The spectators couldn’t cheer, seemingly unable to believe the quick resolution of the
duel.

Joyce too, doubted his own eyes.

While Felix’s fighting style was brutish, it wasn’t so loose that it should be easily
dominated.

Yet Damian seemed to effortlessly evade as if exploiting glaring vulnerabilities.

It was as if he were dealing with only a large child.

“Felix loses!”

Only then did a slow round of applause surge from the crowd, their faces an
amalgam of shock and disbelief.

Felix was still unable to truly grasp the difference in their abilities.

He merely thought he had gotten entangled in Damian’s tactics.

Once again, he provoked Damian.

“Were you raised on a wizard’s teat to be too cowardly to stand a frontal fight?”

Felix, quite heated, hadn’t realized his taunt was loud enough for the crowd to hear.

Upon hearing his words, the expressions of the noble ladies and fellow knights
soured.

It was a blatant affront to Silveryn and Damian.

Such behavior clearly conflicted with the values of chivalry they upheld.

As Joyce moved to intervene, a nearby senior knight held him back. The senior
knight gestured to address the matter after the duel had concluded.

Damian did not respond.

“…”

Nonetheless, the provocation had obviously had an effect.

Facing each other again back at their spots, a lethal intent filled Damian’s gaze.
Felix sneered, convinced now that Damian would meet his provocation with a direct
confrontation.

And for Felix, this was a good thing; a head-to-head fight was overwhelmingly in his
favor.

The mood among the crowd had dampened.

Were Damian to succumb to the provocation half-heartedly, it would be akin to

watching the honor of his master tarnished without retribution; it was time for a
decisive reprisal.

Felix’s reckless babble had turned the light-hearted sparring into a duel of honor.

The referee soon announced the start of the third round.

Felix leaped in, bringing down his full weight with the sword onto Damian. His action
was excessively large.

He paid no mind to whether Damian would strike at an opening.

And Damian did not evade but parried the sword instead.

‘Huh?’

Unfazed, he countered it.

Felix regained his footing and swung his sword at Damian with all his might.

It was an aggressive, one-sided offensive, quite similar to his bout with Julian.

Everyone anticipated Damian being overpowered.

But the crowd scowled, sending no cheers due to Felix’s uncouth behavior.

Against all odds, Damian held his ground.

Not a single step did he retreat.

And with each clash, Felix’s hands began to numb from the impacts.
It felt like hitting a rock.

‘What in the world… ’

Felix was beginning to panic.

He directly crossed swords with Damian, using his weight to press down.

But Damian didn’t budge an inch.

Instead, he took a step forward, pushing Felix back.

It was Damian who was overpowering him with strength.

Felix, flustered, stumbled a few steps backwards.

‘What in the world did he do to have such strength in that physique… ’

This was contrary to his intuition.

Shaking off the numbness in his hands, Felix lunged forward again.

He put his weight behind the effort, striking down at Damian with all his might.

And Damian, not evading, counterattacked with tremendous force.

Clang!

The wooden swords collided. Following the loud impact, Felix screamed in agony.

“Aaaaargh!”

The wooden sword flew out of his grasp, and he winced, grabbing his twisted wrist
as he staggered back.

Even in a direct confrontation, Damian was utterly dominating.

The moment the sword flew out, the outcome was decided, but Damian appeared
unwilling to end it there.
He simply stood, watching.

Silence fell over the training grounds for a while.

Then, after the duel, Damian spoke for the first time.

“Pick it up.”

“…What?”

Felix glared at Damian’s face.

Was he being told to pick up the wooden sword again?

Offering him another chance.

It was a remark that crushed Felix’s pride.

His teeth grated. Felix, red in the face, went to pick up the wooden sword that had
fallen.

He got back in stance, but his arms were shaking violently.

Despite being furious, he couldn’t find the will to charge first.

Damian approached him with large, deliberate steps.

Felix’s body involuntarily retreated little by little.

“Ugh, damn it.”

Damian brazenly stepped forward and, with an obvious trajectory, brought down the
sword toward Felix.

Clang!

Felix blocked with all his might, but once again the wooden sword was knocked out
of his hands.

“Aaaaah!”
And Felix writhed on the ground in pain.

Both his wrists had swelled red from the shock, the tendons looking as if they were
torn asunder.

Yet the duel was still not over.

Damian picked up the wooden sword from the ground and casually tossed it back to
him.

“Pick it up.”

Felix looked up at Damian.

“Damn, damn, damn it!”

That’s when he realized he had provoked the wrong person.

Felix squeezed his eyes shut and begged.

“Damn it, I lost, I’ve lost!”

Upon his declaration of surrender, Damian finally put down the wooden sword.

Squatting down, Damian whispered something to Felix in a low voice that no one
else but Felix, drowned out by the crowd, could hear.

Shortly after, Felix’s face turned deathly pale.

Then Damian walked away through the crowd, leaving the training grounds behind.

Bologna, Nancy, and a few other nobles followed after Damian.

***

“What kind of uproar did you cause?”

After spending a day at the headquarters of the knighthood, Silveryn and Damian set
off for home early in the morning.
Damian was resting his chin on the carriage window, admiring the gently flowing
scenery of Weisel.

“It was just a light sparring.”

“Light sparring, and those well-mannered nobles were yelling so excitedly?”

“It seems they were really curious about my abilities. As you said, teacher, people
here really love their gossip…”

“And why did you get so many gifts?”

Next to where Damian sat was a pile of presents wrapped in ribbons and letters.

“I’m not sure. They just gave them to me.”

Unable to contain her curiosity, Silveryn plucked one of the letters from the pile and
read it.

It contained words expressing a wish to stay in contact along with an address in a

fiefdom where Damian could send his reply.

“You’re quite the popular one.”

“…”

“And what was all that talk during the duel?”

Damian answered with an expression that said he didn’t know anything.

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb. I was watching from the window of the headquarters. Why were
you so angry?”

Silveryn, having watched from a distance, didn’t know the exact details.

“He called me a pipsqueak.”

“…”
Silveryn looked at Damian with a momentary pang of sympathy. Damian wasn’t
particularly short, but the guy he’d been up against was bulky enough to make it
seem so.

“Don’t worry about it too much. You certainly have grown since I first saw you. You’ll
be catching up in no time.”

Damian replied nonchalantly.

“That’s reassuring to hear.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes.”

Damian seemed lost in thought, gazing out at the distant mountains.

“No, so what did you say to that guy?”

“I told him we’d see each other again at the Eternia entrance exam.”

“…?”

Silveryn squinted at him suspiciously.

‘It feels like something is missing.’

There had certainly been some incident the night before, but Damian seemed to have
no intention of sharing the whole story.

Soon after, she shook her head to herself and gave up trying to pry.

‘Fine, let him be.’

A carriage bearing the seal of Eternia was crossing the borders of the Empire.

Inside the carriage, an old man with white hair tied tightly at the back was looking
out of the window.

Facing him, a young attendant wearing a mask spoke up.

“Master Carios, according to the rules, you must conceal your identity until we
return.”

“Hah, that old song about rules again. Who’s there to recognize me in this
wilderness?”

“This is not about protecting you, Master Carios. We are on imperial territory now. If
word gets to the Empire…”

“Ha, fine, fine. Despite being a citizen of the Empire, why so stiff?”

The old man picked up a mask that was resting beside him and fixed it to his face.

Shortly after, the skin around his face and the wrinkles on his neck smoothed out,
and his hair turned jet black.

“It’s only a matter of time before the Empire discovers this anyway. You know that,
don’t you?”

The attendant paused, then spoke.

“Do you mean to say there are spies in Eternia?”

“Of course. Eternia has never been on guard against the Empire. After all, it has never
harmed Eternia before.”
“Then the reason you, Master Carios, are heading to Eternia is…”

“It’s because I need to interfere to maintain the balance.”

The pact that bound Carios to the Empire was nearing its end.

He was now planning to sever ties with the Empire completely and entrust himself
to Eternia.

The news that one of the three Swordmasters firmly established at the pinnacle of
the Empire was leaving would cause quite a ripple effect.

“I will follow Master Carios’s decision, but I still question whether such drastic
measures are necessary.”

Carios was willing to go beyond just distancing himself from the Empire; he wouldn’t
hesitate to become an enemy if necessary.

“Haven’t you seen it too? That child is no mere extraordinary case. Do you not
picture what’ll happen if he forms a connection with the Empire?”

They would use all means to tether the child from Eternia to the Empire.

“…In the end, they’ll raise him as a Royal Guard.”

The Royal Guard. The direct vassals of the Empire, comprised of the strongest forces.

“I will not live to see such a fate. It is talent too precious to waste away there.”

To the knights of the Empire, the Royal Guard was a prestigious position, but in truth,
it was a grave for talent.

Many geniuses who joined the Royal Guard were sacrificed in the struggles for
power within the Imperial Palace.

Having raised and commanded the Royal Guard himself, he knew all too well.

“There’s also the boy’s teacher. If provoked wrongly, the Empire could be set ablaze.”

“Even she can’t hold onto her disciple all day long.”
The attendant pondered the implications of those words for a moment.

“You’ll seize the opportunity when that woman heads to the North.”

“Right. Who knows? Maybe in the future, they will use the boy as a hostage to control
the teacher as well.”

“…”

“Imperial royalty has always been vile and contemptible. There are already several
precedents, aren’t there?”

The attendant clenched his mouth tight, lost in thought.

“I… I just worry that all the hard work of the teacher will be in vain.”

“Heh, what’s there to regret in this old age? If I simply standby, later on, Zeldan will
be the one to hold a grudge.”

***

Silveryn stretched her arms towards the sky, yawning wide.

There were still a couple of hours left in our carriage ride heading home to the
manor.

We stopped the carriage on a forest path for a brief rest.

The doors of the carriage were flung wide open, allowing the sunlight and breeze to
enter.

The sounds of birds were gently pleasing to the ear, and she laid down comfortably
on the carriage seat, seemingly lulled into tiredness.

Silveryn’s long hair cascaded down to the floor, so I gathered it up with my hands
and laid it across her body.

With her eyes half-closed, Silveryn mumbled a thanks.

“Thanks.”
The carriage wasn’t wide enough though, and her ankles protruded out of the door.

She twisted and turned to find a comfortable pose, eventually bending her knees
halfway up.

In doing so, her skirt slid down her thighs, which she promptly tucked in between
her thighs to secure.

One strap of her dress became loose, revealing her collarbone, and her hair was
completely let down.

There’s no decorum in front of her disciple.

It seems she considers me as something akin to an underdeveloped child or perhaps

an invisible man.

Catching me examining her with a face full of conflicting thoughts, she rolled her
eyes at me.

“What are you looking at?”

“…”

And still, Silveryn wore no jewelry.

Though I’m not well-versed in women, I know that ladies tend to dress up as much
as possible for important occasions like a social gathering.

Attending without any adornments suggested a firm resolve, like a mute protest.

I need to get home quickly to finish my preparations and then hand over…

Seemingly out of boredom, Silveryn reached for a stack of letters beside me and
plucked one out.

“That’s my letter…”

“I’ll read it for you.”

“…”
She casually tore the seal and skimmed over the letter.

“From the Dalton family, the youngest of three sons and one daughter… too long.
Something else.”

Tossing the letter aside, she picked another.

“Pff, this one must be young, believes in fate.”

From yet another letter, she yawned.

“Boring.”

She went through four letters, not really reading any thoroughly, and tossed them
away.

“This one is a bit unique. Yeah, to catch someone’s attention, you need to be prepared
like this.”

She held and shook a letter inked as black as though it had been soaked in ink.

“It’s from Amaryllis, who lives in the mist city near Meyhen. She says to come over
for a visit. Where’s the mist city? You’re pretty famous, reaching this far huh?”

Silveryn’s reading was more of a cursory glance relayed to me.

I half-listened to her as I spoke.

“Shouldn’t we be heading out soon? Any longer and it seems we might be late.”

Aren’t you eager to receive your gifts?

“I don’t know, I’m sleepy. Just start the journey like this.”

Truly, she closed her eyes.

“…”

I arranged Silveryn’s sprawling limbs, closed the doors, and started the carriage.
It was early evening by the time we arrived at the manor.

Silveryn hadn’t woken even once during the entire ride, fast asleep.

A giant wooden crate was stacked up high in front of the manor entrance.

Servants bustled out, busily transferring the crate to a handcart.

Everyone was busy preparing for the journey to Eternia.

Silveryn emerged from the carriage, rubbing her eyes.

“Teacher, do we have to take that much stuff for Eternia?”

“Um…”

She still seemed half-asleep.

Just the two of us were going, was there really a need to pack this much? To an
onlooker, it looked as though we were selling the house to move.

“This is almost like fleeing to a refuge in the midst of war.”

She yawned and said.

“You think my manor is the only one I have.”

“…?”

Wait a minute. Does she also have a grand manor in Eternia?

Looking closer, it wasn’t just our belongings.

“Are other people going too?”

“Half will stay, and the others will come with us.”

Between the servants, Liria too was drenched in sweat, hauling the belongings onto
the cart.
“Liria too?”

“Why, would you like her to accompany us?”

“Well, it’s her first time heading to a strange place; won’t it be hard for her to adapt?”

“That little squirt volunteered to go. Perhaps she wants to experience the greater
world since she got a taste of learning something substantial.”

“…”

Liria was a girl with a strong desire to thrive, given her young age; it’s possible that
she developed some ambition too.

Even if I were to live as a maid in Eternia, there would likely be more to see and hear
than in Weisel.

“More importantly, are you all prepared?”

I too need to start moving quickly.

“No, I still have urgent matters to attend.”

I rushed past Silveryn and up the entrance stairs.

“Why the rush?”

“There’s something I need to do!”

I quickly crossed the mansion’s hallway and entered my room, firmly closing the
door behind me.

On the desk lay a box wrapped in paper.

It was certainly the item I had requested from the butler.

Unwrapping the package revealed a necklace chain made of silver and a ruby crafted
to the size I had wanted.

The size of the gem wasn’t entirely satisfactory, but it was the best I could afford.
A necklace indeed requires more effort than a ring, whether Silveryn would
acknowledge it was uncertain.

I pulled out an unfinished piece from the drawer.

It was a piece of jewelry that I had started working on in meteoric iron to set the
gem. However, the gem turned out smaller than I had anticipated, and there was
much to adjust.

‘It will be past midnight by the time I finish this.’

***

Silveryn was awake, even in the late night.

Seated in a chair, she was engrossed in reading a letter by candlelight.

She tapped her lower lip with the tip of her finger, her eyes fixed on the page.

Though the content was nothing special, Silveryn sometimes chuckled, a pleased
expression crossing her face.

She had already read the letter three times over.

It was partly because she had slept long during the day and partly because the letter,
which had arrived in a rush today, gave her much to ponder, making sleep elusive.

In the midst of this, there were quiet footsteps outside her door.

Then came a knock.

Knock-knock.

Visits at this hour to her room were rare.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open cautiously.

It was Damian.
“Teacher.”

“What brings you here?”

“I didn’t realize you’d be awake.”

“Did you have another significant dream?”

Damian coughed awkwardly, for reasons unknown.

“No.”

He approached Silveryn with his hands behind his back.

“Whatever it is, just leave it on the table.”

“…Yes.”

Damian placed a small box on the table and glanced at the letter in Silveryn’s hand.

It bore the seal of the Knight Order.

“Is it a letter related to sponsorship?”

“No.”

Damian’s expression hardened.

“It’s an apology from the leader of the Knight Order.”

“…”

“He says he sincerely apologizes for the disrespectful language contrary to chivalry.
Did you know about this?”

“…Yes.”

“Apparently, they’re going to send a delegation soon to apologize formally. What will
you do?”
Silveryn finally lowered the letter and raised her eyes to meet Damian’s.

“Me?”

Damian swallowed nervously.

“Yes.”

“I’ve told them it’s already settled. Besides, we’re soon leaving for Eternia…”

She trailed off, only to continue moments later.

“Also, it’s not really infuriating as someone has already given them a scolding.”

Damian froze for a moment before abruptly offering his regards.

“…Then, I’ll take my leave.”

Silveryn stopped him from leaving.

“Why run away so soon? We’re not done talking. I told you I’m not angry.”

As Damian averted his gaze, Silveryn let out a small laugh.

Watching his reactions was one of her little pleasures.

“What is this?”

Silveryn picked up the small box Damian had brought.

He responded clumsily.

“I just happened to make one and thought it would suit you, Teacher. You don’t wear
much jewelry, so…”

She opened the box to find a necklace with a floral metal decoration.

A ruby was set in the center of the flower. For something made on a whim, the
craftsmanship was remarkably intricate and elegant.
“A necklace?”

“Yes.”

Her lips curled into a slightly dissatisfied pout.

“Is that it?”

“Yes…?”

“Are you done just by dropping it off all of a sudden? Isn’t there anything else?”

Damian replied stiffly.

“I don’t really know…”

Silveryn sighed deeply.

“I’ll show you.”

She then pulled Damian by the wrist.

She immediately took the necklace and placed it on the palm of Damian’s hand.

“Pick it up.”

“……!”

Silveryn twisted herself to sit at the edge of the chair, half of her body laying across
it. Showing her back to Damian, she swept her hair up to her crown in a swift
motion.

Her pale nape was then exposed.

Damian held his breath for a moment at the sight.

“Hurry up, my arm is getting sore.”

He finally realized what Silveryn wanted.

After a moment’s hesitation, Damian moved behind her and clasped the necklace
around her neck.

His hands lightly trembled as they brushed against Silveryn’s collarbone.

The corners of her mouth rose in satisfaction.

“Seems like I’m finally reaping the rewards for dutifully raising my disciple.”
Three carriages and one large cargo wagon.

Among them, my belongings consisted of three bottles of griffin’s blood, potions,

meteoric iron ingots, metalworking tools, and a small assortment of clothes.

With Silveryn’s permission, I also packed a few alchemy books.

“All set? Hurry up and get on.”

The butler and maids, who had been assigned to stay at the mansion, came out to see
us off. I waved goodbye to them.

I took one last look around the mansion before climbing into the carriage.

How strange that I should feel such regret now. It’s really quite unfathomable.

When I had left everything behind in Haman, I hadn’t felt this way.

Perhaps it’s due to the many good memories I’ve made here. A lot has changed
during the few months I’ve spent in this place.

I asked Silveryn,

“When do you think we’ll be able to return?”

“Hmm, I can’t promise anything. If nothing else comes up, perhaps during the
holidays?”

“If nothing else?”

“Yes.”

She spoke as if something might happen. It seems that even during the holidays, life
as an Eternia student isn’t all rest and relaxation.

The prepared carriages began to move out one by one.

We were heading for Eternia.

***

Silveryn greatly lamented the time spent traveling. It made sense since, even in the
best scenario, we were in for at least 20 days in a carriage.

She mentioned that she would continue my training upon arrival in Eternia and
whenever there was any spare time during the journey.

“There are still things you need.”

While my physical and strength conditioning had come a fair way, she often
expressed regret over my unincreased total mana.

“Unfortunately, there are no shortcuts here. You need to continue exhausting and
recovering your mana to increase it.”

The problem was that I didn’t know how to use magic, and I couldn’t summon my
sword just anywhere to expend mana.

But it wasn’t like there were absolutely no options.

I could use a magic artefact that would continuously deplete my mana.

“Before we reach Eternia, I should prepare the necessary magic artefact for you.
While we’re at it, I should get you a new sword too.”

“A new sword?”

“Yes. You can’t always carry your usual sword disguised, nor can you summon the
light sword whenever you want.”

That made sense.

So, I’d be handling three swords in total? The thought gave me a headache.
“Can’t we just change the appearance of the sword I normally use?”

Silveryn shook her head.

“That might be even more complicated. Easier to get caught that way.”

***

We had to cross no fewer than three national borders.

There were countless territories to navigate.

I had anticipated problems with checkpoints or preparations for camping, but these
concerns turned out to be needless.

Leaving Weisel behind, we entered a small town in the Fetherton region.

It must have been a bustling trade town as there was a line of cargo wagons at the
checkpoint outside the city gates. It looked like it would take half a day to get
through.

But then, a group of the city’s guards on horseback came towards us, following a side
path from the checkpoint.

“It is an honor to meet Eternia’s esteemed guest. Please come this way.”

They recognized the seal of Eternia on our carriages and allowed us in the city
without further procedure.

Not only that.

The lord of the town even invited us to stay at the castle.

Four days later, around the time we were crossing into the Duchy of Yulisia, rangers
took the initiative to escort us.

“It is an honor to serve Lady Silveryn.”

Thanks to such treatment, over ten days of travel required only two nights of
camping, and even then, there was no need to keep watch or worry about ambushes
or raids.

The tension had completely dissipated; it was just a matter of passing time.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked Silveryn,

“Why are we treated so favorably by Eternia, regardless of the border?”

She explained succinctly.

“Hmm. Many countries owe debts to both me and Eternia.”

“Debts?”

“Yes, quite significant ones.”

The closer we got to Eternia, the better the treatment we received.

In the Seharin territory, all the citizens knelt before Eternia’s carriages to show their
reverence.

The lord there treated even me with great respect as a distinguished guest.

“It is an honor to serve the disciple of the Grand Mage.”

It felt a bit too much even if I was standing beside Silveryn.

She would habitually say to me,

“Your head teacher has contributed greatly.”

Plantara had been clearing the magical beasts near the regions around Eternia, and
most local lords were relying on this assistance.

That was why we were receiving such hospitable treatment during our travels.

Through a series of events, I could finally grasp the stature of Eternia for myself.

***
The journey took about four days longer than expected.

The pre-planned route had been blocked by a flooded river due to heavy rains, so we
had to detour along the very edge of the Empire’s border.

Thanks to our generous planning for such contingencies, there were no

interruptions in our schedule upon arrival in Eternia.

We were now approaching the village of Beron on the fringes of the Empire.

“It feels a bit eerie.”

Some of the milestone markers alongside the road were broken or poorly
maintained, with bits of wrecked wagon wheels visible intermittently.

There were no rangers from the Empire in sight.

And Silveryn’s expression, as she looked out of the carriage window, was less than
favorable.

“This isn’t right; this place is not usually like this.”

“How many times have you visited here?”

“Well, normally rangers would come to meet us early on.”

“That’s not a good sign, is it?”

Silveryn replied indifferently.

“Right…”

The terrain around us was incredibly steep.

There was no alternate route to take. We would have to pass through Beron village
even if something happened.

Ahead, a thick fog obscured our vision.

Another couple of hours into our journey, the outskirts of the village started to
emerge through the nebulous mist.

Silveryn’s expression grew increasingly serious.

“Tell everyone to halt the carriages.”

“Why?”

Soon, the line of progressing carriages stopped.

“There’s a barrier around the village. Wizards are setting up a line in front of us.”

“A barrier?”

She paused for a moment before speaking.

“Apparently, someone was waiting for us.”

Waiting for us in a place without any notice?

I pondered for a moment.

“…Are they people I would know?”

“Hmm, seem like they could be your guests?”

If they use magic and are looking for me and Silveryn…

“Could it be…?”

I had almost forgotten about them.

I never imagined they would welcome us in such a manner.

“You’re right. Wait here. Do not, under any circumstances, step out of the carriage.
It’s safe here.”

Silveryn opened the carriage door and stepped out.

If they came all this way to find me, I didn’t want to flee.
“I will go with you.”

“No, stay here.”

“…”

She looked into my eyes and emphasized once more.

“Listen to me. You need to stay here.”

“…”

She took my face in her hand and repeated.

“Promise me. You’ll stay here.”

I reluctantly nodded my head at her request.

“…Understood.”

Silveryn firmly drew the line and walked alone towards the village.

Even if Silveryn was a great mage, it seemed incredibly dangerous for her to enter
the enemy’s lair alone.

They would have the numerical advantage.

Could I really be of no help to her?

There’s no other way. I have to trust Silveryn.

***

Silveryn walked leisurely into the entrance of the village, hands clasped behind her
back.

There was no sign of tension or fear.

As Silveryn entered, the fog began to dissipate slowly, revealing the view of the
village.
Scattered haphazardly along the main thoroughfare of the village, townspeople lay
strewn about.

And in their chests, large icicles were embedded.

Crimson blood had soaked the entire village.

Even witnessing this carnage directly, Silveryn showed no change in expression.

As if accustomed to such sights, she wore an indifferent face as she surveyed the
scene.

“Isn’t it about time you showed yourselves?”

As she called out, shortly afterwards, magicians wearing white robes and masks
began to emerge from behind the village buildings.

There were far more of them than what Damian had mentioned in his dream.

They started to encircle Silveryn slowly.

She took a rough count of the magicians lining up beside her.

At a glance, there were well over a hundred. What’s more, considering the level of
magic power they emanated, they were all at least mid to senior level magicians.

To command such a force, one must possess authority far beyond a local lord or
average noble.

Someone intimately connected to the Imperial household or perhaps a leading figure

from one of the Empire’s most renowned magical families.

Judging from their numbers, they came prepared to make a final decision.

“Shall we start with the matter at hand?”

A magician stepped forward to face her.

“Hand over your disciple.”

“Why should I?”

“There is no ‘why.’ Our only task is to take the disciple. You can surrender or die.
Those are your only choices.”

She responded provocatively.

“And if I refuse?”

“Do you really think, no matter how skilled you are, that you can take on all of us by
yourself?”

“…”

The magician continued in a rigid tone.

“Your carriages have already been surrounded as well. It would be wise for you to
peacefully accept our terms.”

Silveryn crossed her arms, leisurely pacing back and forth. She took her time
examining each of the masked figures.

Disappointment was evident on her face.

“How exactly do you plan to kill me?”

The magician confronting Silveryn waved his hand.

A gust of wind blew, dispelling all the fog, and thousands of ice blades hovering in
the air became visible.

Their sharp points were all aimed at Silveryn.

She looked up at the sky and frowned.

They seemed to have been well-prepared after hearing the news about Damian and
Silveryn spread from Weisel.

They knew that to capture Damian, they would have to deal with Silveryn.

The likelihood that they had caused the river to swell and diverted us to the outskirts
of the Empire appeared to be part of their plan.

If they held power within the Empire, orchestrating events within its borders would
simplify cleaning up afterwards.

“What do you plan to do with Damian?”

“He dies here.”

“…What crime has he committed?”

“Don’t interfere any further.”

Silveryn felt pity for Damian.

What a tragic fate. Just how twisted must one’s life be to become an enemy of these
magicians at such a young age?

Before meeting Silveryn, Damian had been nothing more than a feeble and
impoverished boy. It was only natural for him to have no contact with high nobility.

Had it not been for her, Damian might have vanished without a trace, dead and
forgotten.

Silveryn quietly observed the icicle blades.

They belonged to a mid-level magic category, but their sheer overwhelming quantity
gave them the force of a high-level magic attack or greater.

Moreover, these spells complemented the attribute magic primarily used by Silveryn.
It seemed their whole strategy had been designed with her in mind.

Most magicians would be torn to pieces by these blades.

But that was all it was.

Perhaps the warm southern capital had never heard tales of those in the cold north
who lived with the constant threat of death.

No matter the numbers, no matter the attribute; Silveryn remained unaffected.

She was curious about their intentions.

Had they resolved to risk complete annihilation just to seize Damian?

Or was it out of an arrogant confidence that they could easily dispose of someone
like Silveryn?

“Quite an impressive magic. I must admit I’m surprised.”

“…”

“Now, I’m curious about your master.”

“He is someone of a different caliber than you.”

“Who might that be?”

“The king of magicians.”

Silveryn shook her head as if disgusted by the claim.

Hearing this answer confirmed her assumption; it had to be the latter.

There were countless individuals in the world who proclaimed themselves the
greatest of magicians.
Fools who deluded themselves into believing they were chosen by gods and sought
power without restraint or conscience.

Those who faced the limits of their power and ultimately dabbled in black magic for
resolution often met their downfall—these were such people.

The possibility of ending this with words seemed nonexistent.

“I have no intention of abandoning my disciple.”

“So it seems you are not intent on resolving this peacefully.”

It appeared Silveryn wasn’t interested in drawing out the encounter.

Magical energy began to coalesce around her.

“Yes. We will discuss this after you’ve heard.”

“You too will die here.”

Silveryn’s hair began to float as if gravity had ceased to exist.

Then, as if an eclipse had descended, everything plunged into darkness.

Flames began to rise from beneath Silveryn’s feet, completely engulfing her.

The encircling magicians started to show signs of unrest.

A torrent of magical pressure the likes of which they had never encountered weighed
heavily upon them.

This was a density of magical power that far exceeded human capacity.

Despite most of them being intermediate level magicians, they could not withstand
the pressure and one by one, they collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

Their gaze wasn’t fixed on Silveryn.

As her magical power erupted, an unknown entity manifested in the sky.

The magician facing her shouted.

“Fire towards the sky!”

That overwhelming presence in the sky continued to exert pressure on them.

The icicles shifted direction, surging into the dark heavens.

“Do it again!”

The magicians desperately held themselves up as they recited spells.

Thousands more ice blades appeared in the sky, slicing through the black void.

Yet, they did no damage to the entity above.

The magical pressure grew stronger.

The magician facing Silveryn could no longer stand and fell to his knees.

Witnessing magicians collapsing under magical pressure was quite an unusual sight.

Soon after, two eyes, as large as houses, appeared in the sky.

Those eyes, burning fiercely enough to redden the whole world, peered down at the
earth with discernible anger and malice towards terrestrial beings.

Even those attempting to flee fell to the ground, overcome by the magical pressure.

***

One minute felt as long as an hour.

I know nothing of magic, and without a direct confrontation, I have no means of

response.

I must accept it—I’m not yet skilled enough to face a magician.

The best course of action is to trust Silveryn and wait.

I kept my eyes on the carriage window.

Slowly but surely, the fog began to lift.

As my sight cleared, a strange movement started to appear from the trees beside the
carriage.

Someone was there.

They had moved toward our carriage while Silveryn was gone, coming out of the
forest.

Those in robes and masks were the same figures I saw in my dream.

They began to form a circle, slowly closing the distance with the carriages.

“Damn it.”

Liria and the maids were in danger too.

As I was about to open the carriage door and step out, Silveryn’s words echoed in my
mind.

‘The safest place is inside the carriage.’

Had Silveryn anticipated this turn of events?

As I hesitated,

Shadows flickered over my head as if the sun had been obscured.

This cycle repeated several times until it was as dark as night.

“What is this…?”

Had something happened to Silveryn?

Then, a fiery blaze erupted alongside the carriage.

Kwaah!
In the blink of an eye, it surged towards the sky with terrifying force, forming a
curtain of fire around the carriages.

“Teacher…?”

The flames were so fierce; it seemed anything that got too close would turn to cinder.

Moreover, enormous balls of fire were descending from the sky.

Bang! Bang!

They struck the ground mercilessly, causing explosions.

Through the roar of the flames, agonized screams echoed from beyond the fiery
barrier.

“I can’t put out the fire!”

“Aaaagh!”

“My, my body!”

“Retreat, everybody retreat!”

In a moment, the quiet forest path transformed into a chaotic inferno.

***

The village was filled with the smoldering stench of burnt flesh.

All the magicians surrounding her were dead.

Every last one of them laid prostrate as if in worship before a deity, all reduced to
blackened heaps of ash.

Silveryn grabbed the hair of what seemed to be their leader and dragged him along
as she walked somewhere.

Propping the woman against one side of a brick wall, Silveryn removed her mask.
Beneath it was a woman in her 30s with long silver hair and laugh lines etched into
her face; she was the figure probably seen in Damian’s dreams.

Silveryn spoke in a tone devoid of emotion.

“How does it feel to truly face a king?”

The woman bit her lip.

She was stricken with fear.

“…”

“Words seem futile.”

“Do you intend to torture me?”

“…”

“You won’t find any evidence.”

They were exceedingly cautious. Upon Silveryn’s investigation, all the magicians
brought by this woman were hired mercenaries.

This woman was the only one presumed to have a direct connection, and she had
undoubtedly been rigorously trained to reveal nothing.

From the outset, Silveryn sensed that extracting information through torture
wouldn’t be straightforward.

“I do not resort to such archaic methods.”

Silveryn pulled out a ring set with a green gem from within her robe and slipped it
onto her finger.

The Eye of Nielgra.

A high-caliber artifact capable of dominating the mind of the target and extracting
deep truths.
Previously, she had pondered using this very artifact on Damian.

It was not an artifact that could be used indefinitely, closer to a consumable, but she
was more than willing to employ it now to unearth truths about Damian.

“…!”

Recognizing the identity of the artifact, the woman attempted to bite her tongue, but
Silveryn quickly activated it.

Her ring reacted to the magic and emitted a green gleam.

Controlled by the Eye of Nielgra, the woman’s eyes rolled back, revealing their
whites.

“Ughgg, gugk.”

However, the woman’s response was unexpected.

Her body began to convulse and grind her teeth as if experiencing a rejection
reaction.

Silveryn was able to confirm her suspicion.

‘It’s definitely a magician’s family.’

Only magician families embed mechanisms in their vassals and kin to induce a
reaction against mind-control magic.

Under these circumstances, getting the answers she wanted was impossible. If the
interrogation wasn’t concluded swiftly, the woman would die from the rejection
response.

Silveryn went straight to the heart of the matter.

“Are you a hired magician?”

“Gugk, no, t’isn’t.”

“What’s your name?”

“Eldre, ris. Pft, ughgk.”

The woman didn’t manage to say her surname properly. Sensing something was off,
Silveryn switched her line of questioning immediately.

“What’s the name of the master you serve?”

“Th-the k-king of magicians.”

‘As expected.’

Predictably, she had been conditioned not to directly answer any questions
concerning her family.

“Why did you attempt to kill Damian?”

“Ughgk, a threat, element, gugk, he came too close, all, lies.”

“What’s a lie?”

“Th-the Ma-master’s con-control, gugk.”

Silveryn found the woman’s words difficult to understand. Was she indicating the
Masters’ Class? Damian was too difficult for them to control?

“What’s Damian’s relation to you all?”

“Gugk, a t-threat, element.”

“A threat element?”

Damian was a threat to them, and uncontrollable once part of the Masters’ Class?

Or was there another meaning?

Silveryn pondered for a moment.

“Is someone from your family in Eternia?”

“Gugk, ughgk, gugk.”

The woman’s rejection response intensified. Foam began to bubble from her mouth,
and her limbs twisted violently.

There was definitely something there.

A question then crossed Silveryn’s mind.

The magician’s family, and the transfer of magical power.

There was a significant correlation between these two factors and Damian’s
abnormally rapid recovery of magic power.

A magician’s family searching for Damian.

A powerful bond.

And someone in Eternia.

The pieces of the puzzle were fitting together.

Finally, Silveryn felt she could grasp the full scope of the crisis.

A heavy weight settled in her chest.

And then, Silveryn asked her final question slowly.

“What is Damian’s relation to… the child at the academy?”

The woman collapsed as she couldn’t resist the artifact’s influence, and her head
burst.
Not once did she anticipate that the woman’s head would burst.

Silveryn’s face was spattered with a few droplets of blood.

Such was the extent of her injuries, those few droplets, after killing almost a hundred
people.

She was so lost in her vexations that she didn’t even think to wipe it away.

Apart from the blood-soaked silver hair, there was no remaining evidence. Even this
was too scant to be used as proof of association with the family.

All she knew about the instigators was that they were ruthless enough to use and
dispose of their own kin and retainers as instruments for their agenda.

Leaving the charred corpses behind, Silveryn trudged back to where the carriages
were parked.

Damian’s past kept weighing heavily on her mind, and thoughts of that someone in
Eternia incessantly flickered in her head.

The mental exhaustion from these nagging thoughts worried her more than the
physical fatigue from battle.

Damian had stepped out of the carriage, gripping the door tightly, and met Silveryn.

From a distance, he watched her coming, finally sighing in relief, barely whispering.

“Teacher…”

Seeing Damian, Silveryn felt all her troubling thoughts dissolve instantly.

She approached silently and pulled Damian’s head into an embrace.

“You kept your promise. I am proud of you, my pupil.”

“…”

Damian stood stiffly, not sure what to do with his arms hovering in the air.

Then very slowly, his arms wrapped around her slender waist.

From the comfort of Silveryn’s embrace, he slightly lifted his head and said,

“I was worried.”

“The most unnecessary thing in the world is to worry about me.”

“What exactly happened in the village?”

“First, let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you on the way.”

She gently released her hold.

Allowing Damian to enter the carriage first, she followed suit.

Sitting down, she tapped the driver’s seat a couple of times, and the carriage started
moving again.

The places swept by the flames were ominously quiet, devoid of even the whisper of
the wind.

In a short while, the carriage reached the outskirts of the village.

Smoke was still rising from the piles of ash left where everything had been
consumed by fire.

A pungent smell snuck its way in through the carriage door cracks.

As Damian looked out the window, Silveryn drew the curtain.

“It’s still too much for you to see.”

“……”
Then, a scream erupted from the following carriage.

“Aaaaaah!”

It was Liria’s voice.

The sight of nearly a hundred charred bodies was enough to traumatize anyone.

Damian might have to face this many magical beasts in his lifetime.

But there was no need for him to be exposed to this so early. At least while with
Silveryn, Damian could remain a child.

“What’s been happening?”

“There’s a family targeting you. I don’t know why yet. I’ve made an example for now,
so there should be some peace for a while.”

Damian nodded calmly as if he had been expecting this.

“…I understand.”

Silveryn resolved to avoid prolonged discussions about this incident, at least until
after the entrance exam. She didn’t want to cause him undue stress.

Damian’s focus should be entirely on Eternia.

He fumbled in his pocket and handed Silveryn a handkerchief.

“Teacher, use this. Wipe the blood off.”

“…Thank you.”

She finally relaxed and wiped the droplets of blood from her face.

But it wasn’t quite over.

All Silveryn had managed to do was to extend the interval before the next attack.

They will come again. For reasons unknown, Damian remains a threat to them.
Next time their methods would be more cunning, leaving not even a single hair as
evidence.

And they would strike when Silveryn was away.

Yet, she wasn’t particularly worried.

By then, Damian’s strength would have grown immeasurably.

***

A graceful river cut through the landscape, stretching for a long way.

The carriage made its way upstream, following the road along the midstream.

As they proceeded, encounters with carriages flanked by escort knights became

frequent.

Each carriage bore distinctive seals of various noble houses.

There were quite a few merchants pulling their wagons, too.

As Silveryn admired the view outside, she remarked,

“We’ve now entered Eternia’s territory.”

“I didn’t know Eternia was located in such a remote area.”

“This vicinity isn’t well-known by map alone. Isn’t it quite beautiful here?”

I nodded.

Beyond the carriage window, I saw massive ships cutting through the river, heading
upstream.

It felt somewhat alien, surrounded by primordial nature.

We were truly entering Eternia. A strange mix of excitement and anxiety stirred
within me.
Half a day’s journey would take us to Eternia, but for now, that wasn’t in our plans.

Before going to Silveryn’s residence, we were due to stop briefly at a small town
called ‘Rigved’.

As we turned the corner where the hill’s ridge ended, the vista of Rigved came into
view.

With steep mountains behind and a river as broad as a lake in front, each house in
the city spewed white steam from its square roofs.

The entire city was enshrouded in steam, as if a thin mist had settled over it.

I was captivated by Rigved’s enchanting atmosphere when Silveryn spoke,

“They brew potions all day long, which is why it’s also known as the city of steam.”

Silveryn said that Rigved was built for Eternia.

It was a central hub for transporting goods required by Eternia, brimming with
shops selling various magical tools, alchemical ingredients, and an extensive array of
textbooks and reference materials.

Due to its proximity to the continent’s premier academy, a deeply-rooted trade

sector had developed over a long period.

Despite being located in a hard-to-reach area, tangled in mountains, there was a

significant number of visitors for trade and material procurement.

Furthermore, with various high nobles residing in Eternia, embassies from the
empire, duchies, and city-states were all gathered here.

The Eternian branches of the Magic Association and Alchemy Council were also
located in this town, and it saw frequent visits from the kin, retainers, and servants
of those attending the academy, bolstering the transient population.

Looking down at Rigved, I briefly lost myself in thought.

Could diverse origins congregate and live together in that densely built city on the
narrow plains?
Suddenly curious, I asked Silveryn,

“Are there any other races living down there?”

She shook her head.

“As much as it is Rigved, the other races don’t live mingled together here.”

If that were the case, Rigved would have likely been reduced to ashes long ago.

As we continued on and reached the outskirts of Rigved, the Plantaras greeted us.

They stood firm, guarding the entrance to the city.

It was strangely heartening to meet them here again after a long journey.

Passersby repeatedly glanced at our carriage as it rolled through the streets.

Being an Eternian carriage, typically reserved for VIPs or professors, it naturally

drew attention.

Perhaps due to the upcoming entrance examination, there were quite a few children
around my age in the streets.

I had never seen so many people of my age group gathered in one place.

Silveryn closed the curtain to shut out the surrounding gazes.

“We’re going to acquire a new sword for you here.”

Silveryn handed me a pouch the size of a fist.

“Take this.”

“…?”

It was a weighty pouch. Upon opening it, I found it was filled with gold coins.

“Why are you giving me this…?”

“Choose for yourself with it. I need to stop by the Magic Association for a bit.”

“I don’t know anything about this place.”

I didn’t know what shops there were, where I was supposed to go, and I wasn’t even
sure about the going rates for items.

“This market is not like those cutthroat bazaars. Also…”

Silveryn drew another ring from inside her robe and handed it to me. It bore the seal
of Eternia.

“Show them this ring and say my name, and they’ll choose something suitable for
you.”

Damian slid the ring she handed him onto his finger and asked,

“…Where should I go now?”

As if she knew exactly where they were, without needing to look, she pulled aside
the curtain and pointed out a place.

“That way.”

Silveryn was pointing to a shop located at the center of a Y-shaped intersection.

“Filin’s Smithy?”

“Don’t go anywhere else but there.”

“Understood.”

“Pick something sturdy and durable. If you bring back something with a strange
enchantment, you’ll be in trouble.”

Her manner was like a parent cautioning a child not to choose the wrong toy.

“…Don’t worry.”

Silveryn knocked thrice on the driver’s seat, and the carriage came to a halt.
“Get off here.”

“Should I put on the mask now?”

“Yes. Best to be cautious, though you don’t need to worry too much about Filin. That
old man has deep ties with Eternia too.”

I lifted the mask I received from Erzebet onto my face and stepped off the carriage.

Silveryn waved lightly and closed the carriage door.

Soon, the carriage moved on, and inside the following carriage, Liria also saw me and
gave a small wave.

People murmured softly upon seeing me disembark.

Exiting an Eternian carriage drew piercing gazes from those around.

I pocketed the heavy pouch and hurried towards Filin’s Smithy.

As I approached Filin’s Smithy, a woman suddenly squeezed in front of me to slide
the door open and enter first.

“…”

I followed her into the smithy.

The smell that greeted me was not that of coal and molten iron typical of a forge but
rather the musty scent of old wood.

Despite its name, the inside of the smithy bore little resemblance to a forge; it looked
more like a common shop.

On both walls of the space, ornate swords were displayed like jewels in a showcase,
an array of exquisite craftsmanship.

The counter was empty, the owner nowhere to be seen.

The woman approached the counter first and pressed the bell.

I stood back in a corner, silently observing.

Ding ding, the bell rang out, and soon after, a white-haired old man with his head
half-bald and wearing glasses emerged from the direction of the storeroom to
approach the counter.

“Um, looking for something?”

The woman spoke.

“I came to pick up a sword left here by my teacher.”

She handed over a coin with a unique design.

The old man brought out a notebook, spread it on the counter, and asked,

“Let’s see, what’s the name?”

“Sion, Sion Izarel.”

The old man didn’t even bother looking through the notebook and snapped it shut,
remarking,

“Ah, you’re the one who crossed the continent with a letter of recommendation. I
remember your teacher’s request quite well.”

He then disappeared into the storeroom.

The mention of a letter of recommendation made my ears perk up.

During a moment of silence, the woman glanced briefly behind her.

Her gaze fleetingly crossed mine.

With her hair perfectly aligned as if measured with a ruler, her pale complexion, and
uptilted cat-like eyes, her appearance seemed somewhat cold.

For reasons unknown, she appeared to be mindful of me.

It seemed as if she didn’t want me overhearing her conversation with the old man.

Pretending to be interested in the displayed swords, I feigned disregard.

The old man returned, carefully placing a sword on the counter.

“Here, I’ve kept this safe for a good fifteen years. It seems it’s finally going to meet its
true owner and see the light of day.”

The sword the old man presented had an unusual, bluish hue that made it stand out
from the usual swords.

She took it and after inspecting it by tilting it side to side, sheathes it and straps it to
her waist.
In addition to her existing sword, she now had two sheathed at her waist.

Carrying multiple swords did not seem that rare.

“Thank you. I’ll come back soon.”

“Heh heh, you do that.”

There seemed to be a story behind her expressionless facade as she turned around
and walked toward the door.

The old man then looked at me.

Was it my turn now?

I approached the counter, placed my hand on it, and looked back briefly.

I intended to start conversing once the woman had completely left and no one else
was inside. I had to remain cautious while wearing the mask.

As the woman was pushing the door open, the old man caught sight of Silveryn’s ring
on my finger and quietly said,

“Hmm, another recommendation, is it?”

The woman halted at the mention of the word ‘recommendation’ and looked back.

And then, our eyes properly met.

“…”

I couldn’t tell what she was thinking; she just watched me for a moment.

Then Sion, the woman, pushed the door and exited swiftly.

“Cough.”

The old man cleared his throat as if cueing me, and I faced him again.

“Who sent you?”

“It was Professor Silveryn.”

The old man lifted his glasses and scrutinized me closely.

“Silveryn? That woman has taken in a pupil? No, more importantly, why would the
pupil of a magician come here?”

“I can’t use magic.”

He gave me a skeptical once-over before pondering for a moment.

“Hmm, I doubt Silveryn’s judgment would be off.”

He then asked,

“Looking for a sword, are you?”

“That’s right.”

He lifted the hinged door of the counter and motioned me over.

“Come inside.”

“…?”

The old man led me to the storeroom and down the stairs to the basement.

A corridor narrow enough for merely two people to pass through stretched
lengthwise, with unique swords snugly displayed along both sides.

Leaving me before the staircase, the old man began rummaging among the swords.

“Where do you hail from?”

“Weisel.”

“How long have you held a sword?”

I spoke truthfully without reservation.

“Less than three months.”

He didn’t seem to take issue or nitpick over my brief experience.

“That woman is a mystery sometimes. I would like to see your skills someday
myself.”

“Not too long ago, some greenhorn knights came from Weisel. They were preparing
for the entrance exam. Do you know them by chance?”

“Probably, yes, they are people I know.”

“Then tell that big fellow to throw that abysmal sword of his away!”

“…?”

“If it’s the big guy I’m thinking of, I have no idea what he’s up to, but I have no
intention of meeting them until after the entrance exams.”

“…?”

“If by chance you’d want a sword like that…”

I cut in firmly,

“I’d prefer something sturdy and long-lasting.”

The old man chuckled heartily a few times before responding,

“Ha-ha-ha, well then, you’ve certainly come to the right place.”

He opened a display case, rummaged a few times, and approached me with a sword
in hand.

“Try holding this.”

It was an unusual sword with a blade as translucent as glass.

As soon as I gripped the hilt, a crack sound followed, and the blade fractured.
What’s going on? I didn’t do anything?

“This one, suddenly…”

“Tch, give it back. That won’t do.”

The old man, unconcerned, returned it to its place and again went through the
display case, muttering to himself. He then handed me another sword.

“How about this one?”

I swung it a few times. Despite being the size of a one-handed sword, it was heavy
enough to require both hands.

“It’s a bit heavy.”

“Hmm, not that one, either.”

The swords he presented me with were far from ordinary. It seemed he had no
intention of offering me a simple sword.

He began searching once again.

This process might take longer than I thought.

While standing idle, something ill-suited for the basement caught my attention.

A small sapling was placed in a corner where not a trace of sunlight could reach.

It was surrounded by darkness on all sides, and the presence of the sapling there
was starkly out of place.

While he was occupied looking at the swords, I took the chance to lightly touch the
branches of the sapling.

It was a wonder how it grew so full of life, vibrant with energy in its stems and
leaves, in a place where no photosynthesis could occur.

As I was idly playing with it, the old man returned.

Then, I felt a cold sensation on my finger.

A leaf from the sapling had wrapped itself tightly around my index finger.

Seeing this, he dropped the sword he brought for me next to him and said,

“Oh no, this is trouble.”

“…?”

“Just hang in there for a bit.”

Hang in there?

Leaving just those words, the old man hastily ascended to the upper floor.

What was happening?

Before I could fully grasp the situation, another leaf from the sapling slapped onto
the back of my hand.

“…!”

I tried to pull my arm, but the whole tree seemed to be coming along, adhering to me
as if glued. Trying in vain to peel the leaves off with my nails made no difference.

And these were not ordinary in strength compared to typical trees.

The stem and branches now seemed intent on clinging to my arms.

Trying to kick away the pot only resulted in the sapling coming out, roots and all.

It didn’t stop there; now the roots began to coil around my body as well.

I couldn’t tell if this was a plant or octopus tentacles.

“What is this!”

The old man came back down the stairs, wearing thick gloves inscribed with magic
runes. Only when he firmly pulled at the branches did the sapling start to detach.
A living, moving plant—I had never imagined such a thing. Why on earth was such
an odd thing here?

After putting the plant back into its pot and covering it roughly with soil, he pushed
it into the corner again and commented,

“Didn’t you say you had no magic at all?”

“Yes, I can’t.”

He stood still for a moment, looking at me in apparent disbelief, and asked,

“Are you truly alright?”

The seriousness in his expression seemed genuine.

“Yes? I’m completely fine.”

Was I poisoned or something?

He tapped my shoulder and thigh, checking on my condition.

“Haha, it’s so strange that you look fine even after having your magic drained so
quickly.”

“My magic was drained?”

“That plant, it likes humans brimming with magic. I let it be since you said you didn’t
know magic, but it seems you were hiding the fact you have a magician’s level of
magic.”

“What exactly is that thing…?”

“It’s called the ‘Seedling of Isildrien.’ I don’t know all the details myself. Just received
it. It’s a sword that feeds on magic, tough to wield unless one’s a mage.”

“That’s a sword?”

He nodded and lifted the base of the sapling, which now sluggishly flowed into a
straight line before stiffening into the semblance of a solid wooden sword.
“Provide it with the right amount of magic, and it becomes harder than steel.”

“…”

“The problem is mages don’t use swords, and most swordsmen lack sufficient
magical power. It’s been a pain to find a proper owner for this. I got it when it was
knee-high and haven’t found an owner since it grew to jab my ribs.”

Suddenly, I felt a surge of ambition. Sylvain had once mentioned that my magic
regeneration was better than that of average mages. Perhaps I could be the one to
properly wield this sword.

“May I hold it?”

He pondered for a moment then handed it to me.

“Hmm, you seem well enough, try holding it. If you feel tired or dizzy, give it back
immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Here you go.”

I took the wooden sword from him.

It was light, and the hilt fit comfortably in my hand.

They said it siphoned magic; however, it had no effect on me.

I lightly touched the blade with my fingertip.

“…!”

Blood immediately beaded on the tip of my finger. For a wooden sword, it was
unimaginably sharp.

It would be perfect for hiding in an emergency. This might just be the very thing for
me.

The fact that it drew on magic also appealed to me, the potential to utilize it in
various ways depending on the situation.

It seemed there was no need to look for another sword.

Noticing my interest, the old man observed the wooden sword for a moment and
then spoke.

“Looks like it’s found its master.”

“How much is it?”

At my question, he furrowed his brows for a moment.

***

Contrary to what I had initially imagined, I left Filin’s forge carrying the pot.

“I still have too much money left.”

And still, the leather pouch was full of gold coins.

I hadn’t even considered that he would give it away for free.

The sapling was quiet and did not bother me as long as it was fed a suitable amount
of magic.

I was eager to test it out, but there wasn’t an appropriate place nearby to wield a
sword.

For now, my plan was simply to return to the magic society where Silveryn was.

With so much money left over, for a brief moment, different desires crossed my
mind.

I considered making it look as though I’d spent the money, but I quickly put that
notion aside. That would be almost equivalent to theft, and if caught, it would spoil
the trust between Silveryn and me.

Although I had more money remaining than expected, it was not mine in the first
place.

It is best to be clear about money matters. Deceiving a benefactor who entrusted me

with such a large sum so casually would be grossly overstepping.

“But where am I supposed to go?”

I had no idea where the magic society that Silveryn mentioned was located.

In essence, I was like a lost child thrown into an unfamiliar city.

They probably wouldn’t mind if I used some of the leftover money to buy a meal.

First, I headed in the direction Silveryn’s carriage had gone.

Silveryn had said she frequently visits this city during the semester, so I thought it
best to get a head start and familiarize myself with it.
I could afford a leisurely stroll around the city, and if I was unsure of the way, I could
simply ask the pedestrians.

Adorned with a mask and carrying a pot in one hand might have seemed bizarre, but
people paid no attention to me.

There were many like me with their faces covered along the streets of Rigved, a city
bustling with potion-making activities, with many others also carrying bunches of
herbs.

Fortuitously, my current appearance didn’t stand out too much in Rigved.

The streets of Rigved were filled with an impressively diverse array of people.

Fully armored knights, nobles, mages in pointed hats, merchants, beggars, students,
and more – a range of social classes were all intermingled in one place, like a melting
pot of social strata.

It felt like another world to me.

Could there be someone among those passing by who would become my classmate
at Eternia?

Thanks to my mask, when people my own age walked by, I could freely observe their
faces.

As I continued to watch the people go by, there was a sudden commotion a few
hundred steps ahead, causing the movement of pedestrians to become chaotic.

What was happening?

From ahead, the crowd seemed to part way left and right to make space for
something.

“Uaaah!”

“Catch him, catch him!”

There was the sound of thuds and objects breaking, mingled with intermittent
screams. Something was swiftly advancing in this direction, pushing people aside.
And then someone’s voice echoed from afar.

“Thief!”

***

The guard knights hurried in their pursuit, but it proved to be insufficient.

These were no ordinary petty thieves. They had planned their approach and
managed to penetrate a defense that consisted of about twenty people, making off
with an item.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Three elite knights took a fall, seriously wounded instantaneously. They had not
been able to respond properly since it was a surprise attack, but it was clear they
were dealing with individuals skilled in swordsmanship and arcana.

What was stolen was a rare artifact, the ‘Centennial Wand’. It had been ambushed
during transportation, an artifact coming from the empire aided by the family’s
power.

Clearly, they had been targeting Lilith, who was staying in Rigved for the entrance
exam, for a long time.

The Centennial Wand was a critical item that was supposed to play a significant role
in ensuring Lilith would pass the Eternia entrance exam.

Lilith had sought to give chase by lifting her triple-layered dress skirt, but it was to
no avail.

Coming from a precious upbringing, Lilith had practically never run so much before
in her life. Even making her way through the crowd had proven to be a tremendous
ordeal for her.

Since her acceptance into Eternia hinged on it, she couldn’t just stand by and do
nothing.

“Panting heavily.”
Even though she ran until her vision started to blur, the gap between her and the
thief did not close.

Behind her, a group of guard knights came rushing.

Two knights turned up to support her. It was the first time they had seen Lilith in
such a desperately hurried state.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“Panting, I’m fine, just quickly, catch those men.”

The captain of the guards directed the remaining members.

“Setup the barricade!”

The knights who had come late quickly dispersed down the side streets in the alleys.

“Seal every exit from the city if necessary. Capture them by any means.”

For Lilith, catching them was of utmost importance.

It was at that moment she lifted herself up again.

Clang!

The sound of clashing swords echoed through the streets and the guard knights
turned their heads in the direction of the noise, startled.

Surely, it was the direction the thieves had fled.

“…!”

It was not far off.

Sensing that a fight had broken out, Lilith didn’t even take the time to catch her
breath fully before she started running.

“Miss, it’s dangerous!”

The guard knights hastened to follow her.

Up ahead, a crowd had formed a circle at one particular spot on the street.

Something was happening inside.

Clang!

With every clash of the swords, the crowd buzzed loudly.

Lilith wove her way through the crowd.

Inside, a masked man with crimson hair was fiercely battling two thieves.

Another thief lay on the ground, nearly dead with a broken ankle.

The thieves were swinging their steel swords wildly, but the masked man was
skillfully blocking them with a wooden sword.

‘How can he fend them off with that?’

The wooden sword looked as if it would be chopped in half any moment, yet it
strangely withstood the steel swords just fine.

The guard knights were breaking through the crowd to join in.

Predicting that they might get overwhelmed, the thieves pressed the masked man
even harder.

Each time the steel swords narrowly missed the man, the crowd let out sharp
screams of fear.

The man proved to be a formidable fighter. As the desperate attacks failed to make
an impact, the faces of the thieves distorted with frustration.

Seizing the opportunity, Lilith cast a spell from behind.

Blue energy gathered at the foot of one thief, and shortly after, one foot froze to the
ground.
The man didn’t miss the brief interlude and struck down fiercely with the flat of his
wooden sword on the frozen ankle of the thief.

Crack! The sound of breaking bone accompanied the thief’s scream of pain.

“Aaaargh!”

The remaining thief realized quickly that there was no hope, grabbed the loot, and
rushed away hastily.

The man, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, turned and threw his wooden
sword.

It flew through the air, impaling the thigh of the fleeing thief with precision.

“Huaaargh!”

With a scream, the thief tumbled to the ground.

The following knights made their way through the crowd and looked on bewildered.

The situation had already ended.

The three thieves who had stolen Lilith’s Centennial Wand were perfectly subdued
thanks to the mysterious masked man.

The man in the mask slowly walked over and removed the sword embedded in the
thief’s thigh.

Lilith also hurried to retrieve the case containing the Centennial Wand.

Thankfully, the contents were intact.

Had it not been for the man, Lilith might have faced a bitter failure in the Eternia
entrance exam.

She approached the man under the mask.

“Thank you. This deed will be remembered by our Ezellius family, and we shall
ensure re…”
Yet, the man ignored Lilith and walked past her.

“…?”

Only one thought crossed Lilith’s mind at that moment.

Was he deaf?

One of the thieves yelled at the man under the mask with a voice filled with hatred.

“I’ll kill you for this!”

A guard responded to the thief by thrusting his sword at the thief’s neck and
bellowed sharply.

“Silence, you common thief!”

The man glanced at the thief for a moment.

From his reaction, it was clear he wasn’t deaf.

He simply had no regard for Lilith.

How rude. Did he even realize whom he was dismissing?

‘What kind of person does that… ’

Lilith’s pride was somewhat hurt by the man who simply ignored her and walked off.

However, since he was also a savior, it wasn’t a situation where she could vocally
reproach him.

He stood at a corner of the street, surrounded by dumped soil, and watched over a
broken pot silently.

While his face was hidden by the mask, he seemed somewhat vexed by the shattered
pot.

It appeared as if it had broken in the commotion of the thieves’ escape.

Lilith’s expression twisted slightly.

‘Could that really be the reason?’

To think the reason she was ignored was just because of a pot.

She felt like she had been deemed less important than that pot.

Moreover, there was nothing but soil inside it.

Pots could be replaced, soil refilled.

Yet receiving a noble family’s gratitude face-to-face would be a rare and precious
occurrence in his life.

On the hand that squeezed the wooden sword tightly, there was a ring with the crest
of Eternia etched into it.

Lilith’s eyes widened momentarily.

‘That’s Eternia’s… ’

Suppressing her pride, Lilith approached him once again.

“Hem hem! If there is anything you need, we will provide compensation. Could you
please tell me your name…”

The man did not even pretend to listen. To him, she was invisible.

As if he had no further business, he once again dismissed Lilith’s words and vanished
through the crowd.

“No…”

Lilith watched the direction in which he disappeared with a perplexed expression on

her face.

Following the indignity of being robbed, she was outwardly ignored not just once,
but twice by a stranger.
Such a cold response from the man was something she had never experienced before
coming to Rigved.

Even princes, of higher status than her, had never treated her in such a manner.

A mix of anger and embarrassment heated Lilith’s face.

She called to the commanding knight who was organizing the scene.

“Did you call me?”

Effortlessly ignoring the burning sensation on her face, she pointed in the direction
the man had gone and said.

“That masked man who just walked away. Please track him down by any means and
find out his identity.”
In the central area of Rigved, there was a large square and a fountain. Unlike the
main cities in other countries where thousands of soldiers could gather for parades,
here, at best, around six carriages could pass through at a time. This waste of space
was the ultimate luxury in Rigved. Lilith was looking out the window. This square
could be considered to have the most expensive view in Rigved. Across from the
fountain was the local branch of the Eternia Magic Society. In front of it were three
carriages emblazoned with the Eternia crest parked.

The sight of those black carriages sparked Lilith’s ambition. Staying in the most
expensive mansion in Rigved meant nothing to her. Throughout her teenage years,
Lilith had been desperately working towards entering Eternia. Now, she was on the
verge of finally reaping the rewards of her efforts. ‘Will I truly have the day when I
can proudly ride one of those carriages?’ She closed her eyes briefly, imagining the
thrill of that day. When she opened them again, the harsh reality was waiting to
confront her.

“Haah.”

She couldn’t afford to delay the tasks at hand, indulging in dreams and fantasies.

Lilith’s desk was covered in letters that had flown in from the empire. She sat down
at her desk once more. Due to the imperial embassy being right next door, she was
constantly dealing with letters sent directly to her. Lilith opened each letter, read
through them, and methodically began writing replies. Even though she found it
irksome, she couldn’t just brush it off casually.

She knew her strengths.

Just by looking at the gender of the letter senders, she could tell. Nine out of ten were
from men. Their letters were filled with empty chatter about the empire’s honor and
magical achievements, superficially showing support for her admission to Eternia.
Lilith knew all too well. If she were a man in her current position, she wouldn’t have
received any of those supportive messages. In this manner, they invested efforts to
soften her guard and build camaraderie, and ultimately, what these men were after
was Lilith’s beauty and body.

Men were often such creatures. Trivial, boring, and distasteful.

Not once had any man taken Lilith’s heart or body, nor would they in the future. She
just managed them by fueling their interest without letting it burn out, ensuring they
continued to provide benefits her way. As Lilith put a period at the end of the
response letter to the fifth prince, someone knocked on her office door.

Knock, knock.

“Please come in.”

It was the captain of the guards, the one who had been previously ordered to track
down the masked man. He saluted Lilith respectfully and reported.

“We could not find any traces of the man wearing the mask.”

He swallowed nervously, tensed up. The artifact theft and the lackluster conclusion
of the command emphasized by her had caused his anxiety.

Contrary to his expectation, Lilith responded calmly.

“All right. You may leave.”

“I apologize. If we deploy more soldiers to search…”

“That’s okay. He is not our enemy. If he decides to push away good fortune, what can
I do?”

Lilith soothed the captain adequately and dismissed him. Her wounded pride had
been healed long ago while drafting responses to letters. There was no need to react
sensitively to this matter.

Whether that man was an existing student or a prospective student like her, they
were destined to meet again in Eternia someday.

Regardless of how excellent he might be, the world wasn’t ruled by sword and magic
alone. In the end, it’s politics that moves the world. Even the Emperor, a layman in
both swordsmanship and magic, ruled the empire.

Lilith might not be prominent in magic, but she was confident that she would
become the top ‘connection’ in Eternia. Thus, she could assure herself that someday,
he would deeply regret ignoring her.

***

Ever since I caught the thieves, I had been followed. I took off the mask to make it
impossible for them to identify me and completely covered myself, even obtaining a
cloak. I transformed the wooden sword into the shape of a young tree, then bought a
bunch of miscellaneous herbs and moved with them tied together. Luckily, by the
time I reached the front of the magic society, there was no one following me
anymore.

Seeing me in front of the society building, Silveryn seemed to be contemplating

whether to scold me.

“Did I not direct you to ‘Filin’s Forge’? Did you perhaps go somewhere else?”

“No, I did go there.”

“Didn’t you accidentally enter the wrong place and get cheated?”

“…”

I handed her back the money pouch exactly as she had given it to me. Silveryn
checked the heavy pouch and then, inquired.

“And the sword?”

I grasped the base of the sapling. Soon after, it morphed into the shape of the wooden
sword.

Silveryn crossed her arms, looked at it, and nodded her head in silent approval.

“Ah, you chose a suitable one.”

“Due to circumstances, I had to change my appearance.”

“Is that so? Let’s head to the carriage quickly. There are too many watchful eyes in
the square.”

I separated the bundle of herbs and placed it in the cart’s trunk, then boarded the
carriage with Silveryn.

At her signal, the line of carriages began to move.

“We won’t be going far today, just staying in Rigved. And I’ve gathered various bits of
information from Eternia officials at the society. Information that’ll benefit you.”

“Understood.”

“And we’ll be meeting a fellow prospective student at the place we’re staying
tonight.”

“Is that person also from the combat division?”

“No, from the magic division. They live loudly, so don’t bother trying to engage in
conversation much.”

It seemed like they had a vibrant personality, but why the advice against interacting
too much?

“Is it not okay to get to know each other?”

“Hmm. They just simply don’t like people.”

“…?”

“Especially men even more so.”

Her last remark made me slightly tense.

We stopped the carriage not too far from the square.

Disembarking, we were greeted by a luxurious mansion.

On top of the mansion’s entrance was a golden sign with a wolf’s face. Judging from
the craftsmanship, it appeared to be an annex used by a prominent house. Perhaps
they heard the ruckus of the wheels, at the main entrance, a butler and a girl with
long blond hair came out to welcome us.

Was this girl the one Silveryn had talked about?

The butler and the young woman bowed politely upon seeing Silveryn.

The girl with blond hair spoke.

“It’s an honor to meet you again, Professor.”

Silveryn responded indifferently.

“Yeah. It’s been a while. I’ll be in your care for now.”

The blonde girl looked at me briefly with an impassive gaze, making no further
gesture.

Remembering Silveryn’s advice, I refrained from any significant gestures, too.

The butler led us in. Inside, the mansion wasn’t particularly spacious. Rooms were
allocated to Silveryn and me, and the servants were told to share the remaining two
rooms however they saw fit.

“Settle in and then come to my room.”

After speaking, Silveryn was the first to enter her room. Having little to unpack, I lay
on the bed and waited. Despite being told it was a boisterous place, the mansion was
so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked and peeked inside my room door.

It was Liria.

“Silveryn is calling for you.”

“Understood.”
I stood up and walked to the corridor, then approached the door next to mine and
knocked.

“Come in.”

Inside, Silveryn sat in a semi-transparent negligee at a tea table.

“Sit down.”

She casually crossed her legs and propped her chin onto her hand, looking quite
languid.

As I sat down across from her, she pushed a piece of paper from the table towards
me.

The paper listed numerous unfamiliar names.

Silveryn began to explain.

“The entrance exam isn’t conducted individually. Everyone gathers in one place,
aiming towards the same goals for the test. It’s up to you whether you want to
collaborate or compete with the others, but it’s good to know who you’re up against.”

“This is…”

“A list of kids entering Eternia via recommendations.”

“Am I allowed to know this?”

“It doesn’t matter. The information has already spread everywhere. It would be
unfair if you were the only one left out.”

Hold on, has news about me also spread to everyone?

She continued to add details as she pointed to each name.

“Gaile Varianne is a girl who is somewhat familiar with me. She comes from the
north. For her age, she’s worldly and there’s almost no weapon she can’t handle. Her
sensibilities are just as sharp as yours, and she is also from the combat division.”
I am not good at remembering names even if I can remember faces. After hearing all
this, I might still forget.

“You saw Luna just now, didn’t you? She is this house’s owner.”

“…!”

The blond girl I had just seen was Luna herself.

Given that she dislikes people, especially men, it might be difficult to get along with
her in the future.

“Cecil Fontar is an enchanter, so she’s not a direct competitor for you. However, she
might be useful to you later on, so try to get along with her even if you don’t feel like
it.”

I am not someone who easily befriends others out of intention, I can only hope Cecil
happens to like socializing with people and men.

“In reality, the other kids aren’t that important. There’s a special reason I called you
over.”

She indicated with her index finger the last name on the list.

“It’s because of this kid. She got famous on the neighboring continent across the sea.
A renowned Swordmaster’s prized disciple, to be exact.”

Admittedly, I didn’t quite know how prominent a Swordmaster was, having lived for
a long time in a place nearly cut off from the outside world.

“It seems no one among the candidates for this intake can defeat this girl.”

“No one can… beat her?”

“That’s right. She’s the embodiment of competitiveness. It looks like she’s already
clashed with the other promising kids, including Gaile, and defeated all of them.
Doesn’t it sound exciting?”

“…”
I failed to see what seemed exciting about it.

Silveryn somehow had an inexplicably eager tone in her voice. Had she called me
here not with the intention to warn or caution me, then?

The girl she pointed out was someone I had already encountered.

It happened a few hours ago, not too far from here at Filin’s Forge.

I closely watched the name.

Sion Izarel.

“She might turn out to be your rival.”

I was lying quietly on the bed.

Sleep eluded me. Thoughts, independent of my will, chased one another in an

endless loop, leaving me restless.

Sion seemed to have a personality that didn’t hesitate to take on anyone they viewed
as a potential challenge.

The brief eye contact at Philin’s smithy might’ve been because Sion was sizing me up
as prey.

The mansion remained silent. Its quietness, ironically, tortured me.

Eventually, I gave up on sleep and rose to leave my room. A faint light leaked from
the end of the dark corridor, from the living room.

Who could it be?

Near the fireplace, where the embers were dying, sat Liria.

There was a comfortable armchair right beside her, yet she was squatting in an
uncomfortable position, nodding off to sleep.

Why would she be here, looking so pitiable?

“What are you doing here?”

Liria jumped in surprise at my voice, turned to look at me, and then, seemingly
panicked, attempted to tidy her disheveled hair.

“Oh, you? It’s nothing.”

“What’s nothing?”
“Well, I mean, this is comfortable for me.”

“…?”

There seemed to be some reason.

I pressed Liria for answers.

After several attempts to change the subject, finally, she yielded to my insistence and
spilled everything.

“It’s… the room is so cramped.”

The rooms allotted for the servants were split between the men and women, but
there were too many women, so there was no space left, and she certainly couldn’t
go to the men’s room, hence she ended up in the living room.

There’s something about Liria that stirs a certain pathos in me. Maybe it’s because
we’ve lived through similar environments, and I can empathize more.

Sighing, I said,

“I’ll stay here, so go sleep in my room.”

“What? No, no.”

She waved her hands, refusing.

“I can’t sleep anyway. You might as well use the room that’s going to be empty until
morning anyway.”

I semi-forced the hesitating Liria into my room. Returning to the living room, I sat on
the armchair in front of the fireplace and stoked the dying embers back into a small
blaze.

Sitting still, listening to the crackling fire for several minutes, I too began to nod off.

And then, after I’d drifted off into a deep sleep for a few hours, a strange woman’s
voice cut through.
“What are you?”

Awoken from my slumber by the realization this was not a dream, I turned my head
towards the source of the sound.

In the dim entrance to the living room, someone was looking at me, their face full of
suspicion.

Catching the light from the fireplace, I could see long blonde hair.

I recognized her. It was Luna.

Perhaps I had taken her spot.

“Ah, sorry. It looked so comfortable that I just…”

I immediately got up from my place.

Upon my sudden movement, she took two steps back, startled.

Luna seemed to be on high alert, as if she had encountered an unfamiliar creature.

She opened her mouth slowly, her voice slightly tinged with agitation, as if she’d
encountered something unpleasant.

“The kids… they become quiet only around you. They’re terrified.”

“…?”

“At first, I thought it was because of the professor… but it wasn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“I had a hunch something was off. It’s because of you.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. She mentioned the kids being
quiet, but there were no children to speak of, and the mansion was quiet as ever.
Was she seeing ghosts?

As I took a step forward, she recoiled two steps back once more.

Trying to calm her, I spoke steadily.

“It seems you’ve misunderstood something. I haven’t done anything.”

She didn’t seem to believe a word I said.

“…”

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, the details of Luna’s face became visible.

Clamping her lips in a tight frown, she glared at me for a moment, then abruptly
turned and disappeared into the dark hallway.

I stood there, dazed. What was the issue?

So vigilant was she that we couldn’t have a proper conversation.

Whatever had happened, it seemed unlikely that I’d become friends with that girl.

***

The carriage was speeding away from Rigved.

From the time morning came until we left for Eternia, I never once saw Luna.

Silveryn then said,

“It’s because she’s a spirit master.”

“Are all spirit masters like that?”

“No, Luna is a little special. Spirits flock to her to such an extent that even odd
entities get tangled up with her, causing her quite some trouble a while back.”

Those noisy ‘kids’ she referred to were spirits. I had never imagined the mansion
might be home to so many of them.
“She seems like a rather peculiar girl.”

“Yes, she has many stories.”

Just her demeanor suggested she had even more stories than I may have had.

She continued,

“Don’t be too harsh. Strictly speaking, spirit masters are your natural enemy. Think
about it. How can you contend with an opponent you can’t even see?”

That’s true. In front of a spirit master, all I could do was to be hit without fighting
back.

Thinking it over, Luna had mentioned that the spirits didn’t like me. Perhaps, I was
already in their bad graces.

“Is there no way for me to deal with spirits?”

“You must improve your affinity for spirits gradually. And you should get a spirit-
realm artifact soon too.”

“No rest for the weary with these tasks.”

Note to self: don’t pick a fight with a spirit master.

***

The mountainside fringed a river broadening like a lake, where several boys and
girls played in the riverside sand.

Judging by their ages, they were likely students from Eternia; no ordinary villages or
houses were in sight.

Approaching Eternia, I felt my attention drawn to every individual we passed. There

was an odd sense of premonition that I might meet them again as seniors or peers.

Silveryn twirled her hair around one finger while gazing out the window.

She seemed to dwell on some thought, perhaps preoccupied with something.

After a long silence, she finally spoke up.

“But, you know…”

“Yes?”

“Why did that alchemic squirt come out of your room in the morning?”

“…?”

Silveryn peeked at my reaction with a flick of her eyes.

“Well, if it’s nothing, then never mind…”

She quickly shifted the topic.

“It’s beautiful here. Sometimes griffons, pegasus, or even unicorns come to this
riverside to rest briefly.”

Was it not Liria’s story she wanted to know earlier?

I humored Silveryn’s change in conversation without much thought.

“Those creatures aren’t dangerous?”

“They’re tame and don’t attack humans. I’ll show them to you someday.”

Not particularly keen on magical beasts. I’m in the midst of extracting blood from
griffons to craft potions. Seeing magical beasts friendly with humans would likely
make me uneasy during potion-making.

“I’d rather pass on the griffons. I’d enjoy seeing the other creatures, though.”

“Alright.”

As I admired the scenery, I started to doze off again, the result of the prior night’s
poor sleep.

Meanwhile, the carriage kept moving forward.

When I woke up, the carriage had come to a halt in front of Silveryn’s mansion.

Our final destination was a small fortress nestled within a forest, which Silveryn said
was not too far from Eternia’s professors’ quarters.

Compared to the mansion in Weisel, this place seemed more suited for vampires,
with its eerie atmosphere.

We hurried to unpack and clean the long-unoccupied fortress, now filled with
cobwebs and rat droppings.

Silveryn walked through the hallways and rooms, drawing magical circles with chalk.
As she chanted a spell, hundreds of rats with their tails ablaze scurried in terror
toward the gate of the castle and fled en masse.

Watching this scene in astonishment, Silveryn spoke to me.

“Get used to it. It’s an annual event.”

After the cleaning and room assignments were finished, the schedule was more or
less concluded.

Once admitted to Eternia, I planned to alternate between this place and the
dormitory for training.

However, with just three days left until the entrance examination, I decided not to
train but instead to rest.

It wasn’t that I was completely idle. I received lessons from Silveryn about the
geography of Mount Graice, which would become the stage for the entrance exam.
She also informed me how the exam would be conducted and what they would
evaluate.

It seemed odd that an academy official could divulge such information to me directly.
Knowing this could compromise the fairness of the competition.

“Most of the kids taking the exam are already familiar with these things. Besides,
since your face shouldn’t be recognized, it’s necessary to plan your movements in
advance.”
What can I do? When the professor says so, I must follow.

***

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and the day of the entrance examination
arrived.

Silveryn and I boarded a carriage to head to Eternia.

The path leading there was already congested with dozens of carriages, almost
blocking the way.

I was so captivated by the view of Eternia in the distance that I hardly felt any
frustration with the slow-moving carriage.

Eternia looked less like an academy and more like a grand royal palace. Even from
the outside, its reputation as the continent’s top academy was palpable.

As we finally reached the main gate, we were greeted by Plantaras.

These entities, the size of humans and wielding steel swords, were lined up on both
sides of the gate. It almost felt like passing through a tunnel, given the massive
shadows cast by the Plantaras.

The premises were so expansive and complex that we had to move further inland
even after entering through the main gate.

Many applicants could be seen through the carriage windows.

There was not a single one among them who was alone; kids around my age warmed
up or chatted, each accompanied by soldiers, attendants, or private tutors by the
dozen.

Judging by the crests affixed to their shoulders or chests, they came from families
who could make quite an impression.

Silveryn’s toes wriggled and poked at my shins.

Turning to face me, she sat opposite, legs crossed and chin propped on her hand,
gazing in the same direction as me.
I felt a bit tense seeing the other candidates so full of confidence, while she looked
perfectly at ease.

Right, why should I worry? Even if I lack a family name, status, or wealth, in terms of
sheer skill, I am second to none of them.

A group of men gathered at one spot we passed by was causing quite a commotion.

There was a fight going on.

A man with a shaved head the size of a fingernail was beating someone down like a
street dog.

Thump, thump, the sound of flesh being struck reverberated, and the beaten kid’s
face was swollen beyond recognition. The ground around was splattered with blood.

A fight right where the entrance exam is about to be held? They must be out of their
minds.

His companions, who looked the part of his cohorts, cheered on with claps and
raucous laughter, resembling a band of thieves or mercenaries by their looks.

What Silveryn said next was even more of a shock.

She reacted to this brutal ruckus as if it was a welcome sight.

“Oh, there he is. That’s the guy I told you about.”

“Who?”

“Gaile Varianne. The guy who got in by recommendation.”

“Which one?”

“Well, obviously, it’s the one doing the beating. Looks like there’s some trouble. We’ll
say hello later, not now.”

Why is Silveryn so nonchalant about this? The man is ruthlessly assaulting someone.

Based on the first impression, I don’t feel the slightest desire to greet him.
“He doesn’t have a very appealing face.”

“He’s from the North, so he might be rough around the edges, but he isn’t a bad kid.
He probably knows about you already.”

“…”

Honestly, I wish he didn’t know about me at all. That’s not just rough; it looks insane.
With so many eyes watching, what is he thinking?

Like Luna, these recommendation candidates seem a bit off-putting.

I can only hope the rest of those I haven’t met yet are somewhat normal.

Finally, the carriage arrived at the Eternia stop and came to a halt. Given the
circumstances, I couldn’t be seen accompanying Silveryn outdoors and had to
proceed alone from now on.

Thanks to Gaile drawing attention, I could disembark from the Eternia-crested

carriage unnoticed.

Silveryn looked at me thoughtfully.

“Nervous?”

I was nervous but not shaking. It was a perfect level of tension.

For some reason, admitting I felt nervous seemed like it would make me more so.
Thus, preferring restraint in expressing my emotions, I silently prepared to depart.
Fixing the mask over my face, Silveryn spoke up one last time.

“We won’t see each other for a week… Want a hug before you go?”

The entrance exam would take a week.

Had I ever spent more than a week away from Silveryn since I met her? Not that I
could recall.

I wonder how the teacher feels about it. Maybe a bit empty?
Without much reaction, I opened the carriage door, stepped down, and said,

“I’ll be back.”

Silveryn’s lips protruded slightly in a pout, as though she felt slighted by my

response.
“Since we won’t see each other for a week… should I give you a hug?”

Damian’s face was hidden, as he was wearing a mask.

He picked up his wooden sword and climbed down from the carriage.

“I’ll be back.”

Silveryn pouted her lips. Even after giving many signals of feeling let down, Damian
only remained cool and detached.

He shut the carriage door and made his way toward the entrance exam venue.

Silveryn sighed softly.

It had taken a lot for her to offer such a gesture, and seeing Damian’s reaction made
her question if perhaps she had been too presumptuous.

She could understand it, though. Damian was about to stand on his own, and with
the entrance exam just ahead, it made sense that he would have a lot on his mind.

However, after having advanced a few dozen steps, Damian suddenly stopped in his
tracks.

Then, unexpectedly, he turned around and started to hastily approach the carriage.

“…Huh?”

Silveryn looked around the inside of the carriage.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything left behind.”

As Damian came to the carriage and reopened the door, Silveryn began to speak.
“Did you forget some…?”

Without a word, Damian suddenly embraced her.

He rushed in so unexpectedly that her body nearly lay down in the seat from the
force.

“Oh my…”

Even Silveryn was a little taken aback. This was the first time Damian had done
something so impulsive since they had been together.

His rapid heartbeat conveyed through their bodies in contact, revealing that beneath
his silent facade, he was quite nervous about the upcoming exams.

Silveryn’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and she slowly stroked his back.

“Do well and return, my apprentice.”

Gradually, Damian’s racing pulse began to settle down.

After a moment, he released her from his embrace and gently laid Silveryn back onto
her seat.

Then, without another word, he left again for the entrance exam hall.

“……”

Silveryn remained lying there, so stunned that she didn’t think to close the open
carriage door.

While Damian had calmed down, oddly, Silveryn found it not so easy to soothe her
own stirred feelings.

She lay still, continually fanning her face with her hand.

“……It’s quite warm.”

***
The expansive grassy field that lay at the foot of Grace Mountain, at the outskirts of
Eternia’s fortress, was the site for the entrance exams.

And at the boundary between Grace Mountain and the examination field, a massive
barrier had been erected.

It was meant to prevent unauthorized access and to deter any cheating, restricting
entry to those who were not officials.

Candidates began entering the test area one after the other, having said goodbye to
their companions at the edge of the grassy field.

She spotted several faces she knew.

‘It turns out to be true – a lot of celestials are taking part in this exam.’

Luna, Cecil, Victor, Nyas, Iris, and others. Scions of noble houses who had made a
name for themselves even before their entry were not a rare sight.

Slowly, the place started to fill up, getting increasingly crowded.

Shortly thereafter, the crowd’s attention was drawn to the entrance of the exam
grounds, and they began to chatter loudly.

Someone was entering.

Lilith swallowed nervously as she watched.

‘He’s really here.’

Gale Varienne, the eldest son of the Varienne family, who guarded the frontlines of
the continent’s north from demonic beasts. Their family’s renown was so great that
to say all nations, including the Empire, owed a debt to the Variennes would barely
be an exaggeration.

And now Gale, who had already hunted down large demonic beasts at such a young
age and had gained the title of ‘Weapon Master’ from the northern folks, was here.

His broad shoulders, towering stature, sharp jawline, and combative gaze emitted an
immense sense of intimidation. On his back, he carried an axe as tall as a man.
Even just by appearance, he radiated an immense aura of intimidation, but now,
covered in blood from whatever he had done, he seemed even more fearsome.

Other candidates made way for Gale, overpowered by his presence.

With Gale’s arrival, half of the entrants who were admitted through
recommendations were accounted for.

There could be more names on the recommendation list, but out of those known, the
only ones left were ‘Sion’ and ‘Damian.’

While rumors about Damian had circulated from the Weisel Knighthood, his
accomplishments and status seemed marginal compared to his peers.

He was presumed to be one of those who might have secured their recommendation
through influence rather than merit. To some extent, this was accepted; even an
academy like Eternia saw its fair share of such admissions every year.

But Lilith wasn’t waiting for Damian.

A few minutes after Gale had passed, the entrance exam venue fell as quiet as a
graveyard.

Lilith could sense it.

‘The star of the show has finally arrived.’

At that moment, Sion Izarel made her way into the examination field.

The crowd fell so silent that the sound of footsteps on the grass could be heard
despite the number of people present.

One of only ten Swordmasters throughout the whole continent.

Known as a ‘Dragon Slayer’ for beheading a dragon, she was the esteemed disciple of
the swordsman Gaston Grigg.

The rumor that Sion sought out anyone deemed a strong enough opponent and
challenged them was already widespread.
Most of the notable applicants, including Victor and Gale, had been resoundingly
defeated by Sion.

She was, in essence, the strongest here.

There were even rumors she had soundly beaten several second and third-year
students, lending further credence to her dominance.

The top spot of this entrance exam was, in both name and reality, Sion’s to lose.

In practice, the most intense competition was for the second place.

‘Huh?’

And seizing the moment when all eyes were on Sion, a man quietly slipped into the
examination grounds unnoticed.

Her brow furrowed in displeasure.

It was a silhouette deeply etched in Lilith’s memory, and not in a good way.

‘Was that guy also an applicant for admission? Seriously, should I be glad about this?’

One hand resting casually on the wooden sword at his hip, he took a leisurely survey
of his surroundings.

It was the very man in the mask that she had been unable to find, no matter how
hard she looked.

***

Once all the applicants had gathered, their number was close to a thousand.

When the appointed time came, ten examiners and thirty assistants from Eternia
entered the examination ground.

The examiners lined up in front of the barrier, and soon the assistants began handing
out maps to the applicants.

Gael, standing in the center of the examiner’s row, shouted loudly.

“I am Gael, associate professor of the combat division, and I will be overseeing this
entrance exam. Listen carefully as I explain the procedure and objectives of this test!”

Flynn stood behind the candidates, arms crossed, listening. He was tasked with
helping Gael and was on guard duty to prevent unauthorized entrance.

The map depicted the geography of Grace Mountain, marking the safe areas to
prevent unwanted encounters with demonic beasts.

“Your goal is simple. Reach the summit of Grace Mountain and press your handprint
onto the magical slate.”

Of course, this wasn’t merely a simple hike. Along the way, obstructions lay in wait to
hinder the applicants.

“Plantaras will bar your path and harry you to the brink of death.”

The map showed six routes, labeled A to F, leading to the summit.

The fastest paths to the summit were routes A and B, but these two were heavily
guarded by Plantaras — an unusually secure defense designed to sift out the upper
echelon.

The majority would have to circumvent along routes C to F.

“While reaching the summit quickly is a primary task, we advise that you remember
the value we place on teamwork and the importance of cooperation and
collaboration.”

Flynn reminisced about his own time taking the entrance exams. He, too, had formed
a team with two Magic Engineering department applicants and reached the summit
together, earning extra points.

“Also, each department has additional tasks, detailed on the back of the map. Make
sure to check them.”

The candidates began turning over their maps.

The additional tasks were as follows:

The Alchemy department was to identify plant life and collect specified herbs for
submission. A special potion created from these would confer extra points.

The Magic Engineering department was instructed to craft a tool freely from
materials on Grace Mountain and to submit everything to the examiners after the
test.

The Magic department had no specific task, but points would be given for healing
other candidates.

The Combat department had none. Their sole priority was to break through to the
summit.

“Refer to the back of your maps for other specific rules. With that, this briefing is
over.”

This entrance exam was so intriguing that even Flynn wished he could participate
directly.

The presence of the divine Sion Izarel, Gale Varienne, and above all, Damian, made it
all the more thrilling.

Most probably believed that Sion would clinch the top spot without question.

But Flynn felt differently.

Even remembering the sparring session from a month ago still sent shivers down his
spine.

It evoked a bitter smile, thinking about how amongst those applicants hid a monster
comparable to Sion, staying quiet.

He was almost dying of curiosity to see what kind of upset this individual would
cause.

‘Let’s get started already… ’

The examiners began collecting the magical orbs that maintained the barrier.

“Let the entrance exams begin in earnest now. I wish you all the fortune of war.”
Then, the massive barrier which had been in their way vanished with a thunderous
noise.

Koong- Koong-

Following that, the ground started to tremble.

A Plantara legion, in the thousands, burst through the woods from the base of Grace
Mountain to meet the applicants head-on.

This was the first gate.

The applicants, fired up with fighting spirit, began to run.

A massive battle ensued as Plantaras clashed with the candidates, reminiscent of a

full-blown war.

Amidst them, Gale naturally became the leader of the vanguard, sweeping away
Plantaras with his axe.

Elsewhere, about ten silver wolves appeared, flinging Plantaras through the air —
Luna had manifested the Wind Spirits.

Iris and a few other Alchemy department applicants threw potions. Wherever these
landed, thick vines grew rapidly, restraining the Plantaras.

Brilliant lights sparked from fireballs and electric shocks, dazzling onlookers.

Flynn watched with keen interest.

Some were swayed by the examiners’ mention of the value of ‘cooperation.’

Others sought to stand out among the numerous applicants by showcasing their
capabilities.

All aspired for their own reasons, pouring their best efforts into pushing back the
Plantaras.

Without the slightest inkling that this was all a trap.

 ***

Lilith stopped momentarily as she dashed forward when she spotted the man in the
mask.

‘What on earth is he doing?’

All the applicants had raced off to fight, yet the man was sauntering along as if
having no intention to engage in battle.

‘It seems he has no plans to cooperate with others or gather points that way.’

A few Plantaras that had entered from the rear rushed towards the man, but he
nimbly sidestepped, letting other people fight them and then ran off.

It wasn’t just once. He kept repeating this tactic over and over again.

Lilith’s mouth dropped open, astounded.

“What a despicable character…”

As she watched, fury bubbled up inside her.

A coward with not a shred of honor to be found.

Feeling he was unworthy of further attention, Lilith turned away from the man and
sprinted towards the front lines.

The battle raged on for several hours.

And as the sun began to set and evening hues colored the sky, Lilith realized
something was amiss.

Despite all the fighting, dozens of Plantaras still remained.

They didn’t attack but firmly blocked the entrance routes to Grace Mountain.

Plenty of candidates were left, but all were either injured or exhausted to the point
that they could fight no more.
‘This makes no sense.’

Nearly seven-tenths of all applicants hadn’t managed to leave the examination

ground from where they had started.

Lilith gazed at the faces of the demoralized candidates. Each one had exhausted their
full strength battling the Plantaras.

The man in the mask had likely foreseen this outcome. No matter where she looked,
there was no sign of him. He must have already entered Grace Mountain.

‘That man, what exactly… ’

She had to admit it.

Despite being cowardly and cunning, he was looking ahead.

The summit of Grace Mountain wasn’t particularly high in elevation. However, one
had to travel a long time up a gentle incline due to its extended ridgeline.

‘Do we really need to go to such lengths?’

Cecil held considerable dissatisfaction with Eternia’s testing methods. She believed
the test itself was unfairly skewed in favor of departments like Combat and Magic
that boasted superior combat abilities. Departments like Magic Engineering and
Alchemy, less equipped to handle Plantaras, were relegated to trailing behind others.

‘They ought to conduct different tests for each department.’

Cecil herself was following someone right now. A few paces ahead was a man
wearing a mask. They had crossed paths by happenstance. Like passersby on a
street, there had been no greetings or exchange of names.

However, when the Plantaras appeared, they cooperated to an extent, each handling
their own domain, ensuring they did not completely ignore each other. With the
leading group being quite small and scattered every which way to avoid packs of
Plantaras, it was beneficial not to part ways upon meeting someone. Since it seemed
this man was from a different department, there was no specific reason for
competition.

And so, a quiet alliance began.

Cecil had been watching him fight the Plantaras. He dealt with them efficiently, even
when outnumbered, employing a particularly unusual method. He would jab his
wooden sword into their joints and twist, effectively dislocating them. It felt more
like disassembly rather than cutting them down. More a technician than a
swordsman perhaps. Lacking elegance, but certainly effective in its own right.

One way or another, thanks to the man, she was able to conserve her magic bombs
and magic stones.
The man would occasionally turn his head to check on Cecil, as if ensuring she was
still following. Whatever thoughts he harboured, Cecil had no intention of remaining
with him until the end. She had no thought of forging a friendship— their association
was merely a matter of convenience until they reached the first waypoint marked on
the map.

Continuing on, the man in the mask took a break to sit on a boulder. Cecil, catching
the hint, also stopped about ten paces away. She took this break as an opportunity to
deal with something that had been bothering her.

She hung her conical hat on a tree branch and pulled out her dagger. She then
proceeded to cut the dirty hem of her black linen dress, exposing her thighs and
creating side slits. Now it felt refreshing.

‘Now it will be easier to climb.’

She flung the severed piece of fabric aside, took out a stick of tobacco from her bag,
and lit it. The man was attentively observing Cecil as she puffed out smoke.

‘What’s with him… ’

The fact that he was masked and silent made him hard to trust. His choice to bring a
wooden sword to an entrance exam suggested that there might be something off
about his state of mind.

‘Might be a strange one, better keep an eye on him.’

Breaking the prolonged silence, Cecil was the one to initiate the conversation.

“Hey, you.”

The man reacted.

“What are you staring at? Never seen a woman’s thighs before?”

“……”

No answer came.

“Are you a pervert? What’s with the mask?”

Still, no reaction.

Cecil flicked her spent tobacco away, then took out another one and put it in her
mouth.

“Why do you stay quiet? Can’t you hear me?”

Even to this provocation, there was no response. The mask concealed his face,
making it impossible to discern his thoughts.

‘I can’t figure out what he’s thinking.’

Strangely, it felt like Cecil was getting wrapped up in his pace.

After quietly observing her for a while, the man suddenly stood up and began to
approach Cecil.

“…Hmm?”

As he closed the distance, a somewhat alarmed Cecil took a guarded stance. Since he
had left his wooden sword on the rock, it seemed unlikely he intended any threat.
Yet, just to be cautious, Cecil placed one hand on her bag, where she could quickly
draw out a magic bomb if needed.

The man, now facing Cecil, rummaged in his pocket and then presented her with
something.

“…What’s this?”

Cecil cautiously extended her hand and a neatly wrapped candy dropped onto her
palm.

“Candy?”

She spoke with a skeptical look.

“You think it has poison in it or something? Haven’t your mother ever warned you
not to accept candies from strangers?”

“…”
At that, the man retrieved the candy, slightly lifted his mask, and put it into his own
mouth. It seemed to be a gesture to demonstrate that it was safe.

Suddenly, a faint scent of gardenia flowed from the man.

‘What kind of scent is that all of a sudden?’

He took out another candy from his pocket and placed it on Cecil’s hand. Then he
walked off, leaving her behind.

Cecil stubbed out her tobacco with her foot and slipped the candy into her mouth.
The harsh aftertaste of the smoke was replaced by the sweet fragrance of lilacs.

Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, it didn’t take long for Cecil to come to a
conclusion.

“…Guess he’s not such a weirdo after all.”

Cecil picked up her hat and set off following the man once more.

***

About three hundred individuals had entered Grace Mountain.

A few remaining applicants in the examination grounds tried to heal themselves with
potions and magic before making another strenuous attempt to enter, only to be
expelled again.

Lilith looked on with a drained expression at the darkened threshold of the

mountain range as the day waned.

Entry alone did not solve all problems.

From the advance party that had entered first, about forty were borne back on the
shoulders of Plantaras, being unceremoniously dumped back at the examination
ground.

One wondered if failing once meant a reset back to the starting point.

After witnessing this unfold, the once serene Grace Mountain now seemed like a
colossal maze or dungeon.

The candidates seemed to have realized firsthand. Simply grouping up and

attempting to push through with sheer numbers was not going to work.

Breaking through to the summit without meticulous strategy and systematic

teamwork was impossible.

Perhaps because of this, among those remaining at the exam site, there was now a
lively movement to form groups.

Close collaboration was also happening as information was shared among those who
had initially made it in but were spit back out.

What they all said was very similar.

“Follow the path opened up by those who went ahead.”

They meant to say that tailing the path cleared by the advance group, people like
Luna, Sion, and Gale, was the best course of action.

Due to the fact that the front-runners had to draw the Plantaras with them, their
pace of advancing was incredibly slow.

For this reason, it was possible for the later groups to catch up quickly.

Lilith had also observed the other candidates closely and discovered something
herself.

Plantaras did not react aggressively to those who were exhausted or were out of
magic. It seemed like a mechanism installed to prevent casualties.

It was something that could be strategically used, yet no one had seemed to catch on
to that.

‘I have to keep this to myself.’

There were some who approached Lilith with group invitations.

“You were here. Lilith, we just have the position for a mage left; come join our group.”
A man, without waiting for her response, grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her
with him. It was Jerome, an old acquaintance of Lilith’s and one of those who
frequently sent letters and made unwelcome advances towards her.

She viciously yanked her hand away and said, “I’ll think about it.”

“Why are you like this? You’ll be too late if you think it over. Everyone’s already
formed groups and they’re getting ready to leave at dawn.”

“Hmm. Thanks for the offer. I’ll handle it myself.”

He looked slightly annoyed and said, “Tch, fine. I’ll wait till night. Just decide before
then. Don’t come regretting it too late.”

Lilith responded coldly. “Alright. Thanks.”

Being a woman meant having to camp out in the mountains at night, and she couldn’t
do that in the company of a man who ogled her with lascivious eyes and gave her
unsolicited attention.

If she were to ally with anyone, it would have to be another woman or a man who
had no interest whatsoever in her.

The ones left here were unsatisfactory in both skills and intentions.

As she pondered, Lilith’s mind kept returning to the image of someone.

That man, facing off against three thieves alone. Cunning, somewhat capable as a
front-runner, and completely uninterested in Lilith.

She tried to shake off the disagreeable thought, but it was no use.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, but the answer was the same.

‘That man is bound to be trying to break through on his own. That’s just his nature.’

Other members of the advance party would have already formed groups by now.

Out of the advance group, he was the only one who seemed worth teaming up with.
If she left now, she could join up with the majority of the advance party when they
reached the first waypoint.

Finally, Lilith moved away from the clusters of candidates and stood alone.

She then focused deeply, releasing all her magic energy into the air save for a speck.

This was immediately followed by an extreme sensation of fatigue.

She had brought along a large supply of vitality potions to counter any physical
strains.

Lilith gulped down twice the daily recommended dose of the potion all at once.

Then, with not a light in sight, she began trudging towards the foot of the mountain.

The Plantaras let her pass in silence, but no one witnessed this.

***

Having made a campfire and finished preparations for camping, Cecil brazenly
extended her hand towards the man in the mask, who was grilling fish.

“Hey, give me another one.”

He appeared to ponder for a moment.

“Quick! Give me one more, and I’ll share some critical information with you.”

Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and handed her a candy.

Cecil had somehow found herself in a partner-like relationship with this man, with
whom she hadn’t even exchanged names.

At least until they reached the waypoint, she planned to move as one complete team
with him.

Cecil popped the candy in her mouth and munched on it while looking over her
letter.
There were as many as four Stitches circling the campfire.

She had finally received news from her colleagues, who had scattered in the chaos,
informing her of their progress.

“They say that those who reached the waypoint tried to advance further but got
blocked by the gatekeeping Plantaras.”

There was a gorge in the midst of the pathway to the summit – marked on the map
as the first waypoint and a safe zone.

“Are you listening?”

He nodded his head.

“They say the gatekeeper is huge and strong. It’s posted not only at the gorge but
also at all the other detours.”

Cecil received another letter from a Stitch and unfurled it to read.

“And… Gale and Victor, along with notable figures like Iris and Luna, have failed to
break through and are staying at the waypoint.”

These were all candidates with enough skill to aim for the top of their respective
departments.

As she finished speaking, the man quietly pulled out a candy from his pocket and
handed it to her, almost as if rewarding her for giving these information.
“Candy, hey, candy!”

The man thought she was asking for candy again and began rummaging through his
pocket.

“No, not that. Since you won’t tell me your name, I have nothing to call you by.”

So Cecil decided. It felt a bit childish, but since he had no other distinguishing
features, she resolved to call him ‘Candy’ for the time being.

The man maintained an indifferent attitude, seeming not to care one way or the
other.

When he moved towards the stream to gather breakfast, Cecil followed him.

“Hey, I’m coming too.”

The stream was less than three minutes away from their campsite.

The man rolled up his pants and stepped into the stream, waving his wooden sword
around like a harpoon to catch fish.

Cecil also dipped her feet into the water only to jump back out with a start.

“Damn, it’s too cold.”

The water was so freezing that even washing her face seemed a daunting task.

Her body ached with muscle soreness, and after sweating all day, she couldn’t change
clothes or take a bath.

“What a miserable situation this is.”

Giving up on washing, she just crouched on the gravel and watched the man fishing.

Gathering all these precious sons and daughters from their homes, she wondered
what Eternia was trying to accomplish with such a task. Was there not a more
dignified way to do this?

As Cecil watched the man, she sighed and called out to him.

“Candy, come here!”

With the fish hunt dragging on, she gestured and called him over.

Stopping what he was doing, he approached her, and Cecil handed him a magic bomb
from her bag.

“Use this.”

The man looked back and forth between the bomb and Cecil, as if questioning what it
was for.

“Ah, I’ll show you.”

Cecil twisted the body of the magic bomb once and threw it toward an area of the
stream teeming with fish.

Boom!

Immediately after, a burst of white frost exploded all around, and the nearby water
turned into clear ice.

“You’re clueless about this stuff, huh? It’s a Frostwind Bomb. I don’t need to explain
the effects, right? Just go pick up the frozen fish.”

The man stood shocked, staring blankly at the frozen scene, seemingly in awe.

“You’ll gather food this way from now on. I was saving it for when it’s crucial, but I’d
rather use it now. In exchange, you have to make sure you take care of me all the way
to the waypoint. Got it?”

The man nodded his head.

Cecil grinned broadly.

In truth, they would reach the waypoint by evening, and they’d part ways then, so
there wouldn’t be much need for it. It was just for show.

“Hey, this is important, make a verbal promise.”

The man gave Cecil a long, inscrutable look, then ignored her demand and went into
the stream to collect the fish, as if signaling that he’d do no more than necessary.

Cecil, failing to get her way, got angry and stood up yelling.

“Jeez, why are you so stingy about giving me a response!”

***

Having finished their meal, Cecil and the man in the mask continued towards the
waypoint.

As Cecil became somewhat accustomed to accompanying the man, she started

talking to him non-stop.

“Why do you cover your face? Shy? Or are you really that ugly? Are you some secret
weapon of the empire?”

“See, I can’t stand not knowing things; I’m just that kind of person.”

“…”

“Ugh, I should’ve just taken it off while you were sleeping.”

There were a few more skirmishes with Plantaras, and the fatigue from these
encounters gradually accumulated.

Cecil felt like lying down right there, but the man didn’t show any signs of weariness
at all.

She sat on the torso of a dissected Plantara, puffing away at her tobacco, and said,

“Aren’t you tired? How have you lived that you’re so fit? Were you lugging around
bricks for walls or something?”

He seemed indifferent to her words, and after just a little rest, he started moving
again.

Seeing this, Cecil threw a fit.

“Geez, would a short rest really kill you?”

After several hours of this, they reached a clear, wide path— a sign that the waypoint
was close.

The man stopped in his tracks and extended his arm to grab Cecil.

Shortly afterward, there was rustling in the bushes a fair distance away, and a group
of people emerged.

There were five in total; four were armed with swords and one was wearing a robe.

They seemed to have realized there were strangers nearby. In situations like this,
one might feel relief at encountering other candidates, but they didn’t seem too
pleased at all.

They were weary and haggard, and the atmosphere turned hostile as they looked at
Cecil’s direction.

Despite sensing something off, Cecil stepped forward, thinking joining them
wouldn’t be a disadvantage to anyone.

“Good, let’s go join them.”

She grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled him towards the group.

However, they reacted sensitively.

Chang!

Seeing someone approaching, they all drew their swords in unison.

Soon, the group moved slowly to one side, blocking the path leading to the waypoint.
Cecil spoke up, addressing the group, “What’s this all about?”

The apparent leader of the group spoke up,

“You planning to pass through this way?”

Though they were dressed in neat knightly attire, their attitude was akin to bandits
about to demand a toll.

Cecil replied, “Why not? Is this road yours?”

“You all can go some other way. We will use this path.”

She scowled and said,

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“You think you can just tail along after we’ve cleared the way and reap the benefits
without effort? That’s not how it works.”

Cecil laughed dismissively.

What a petty idea. They spoke as if they were pioneers who had opened up an
untraveled path all by themselves.

Cecil could quickly sense that their intent was simply to eliminate the competition.

She crossed her arms and retorted sharply.

“What do you want? So what if you want to fight? Are you planning to kill?”

There was a reason why applicants were not supposed to engage in direct combat
with each other.

The rules regarding disputes between applicants were written on the back of the
map provided.

‘Avoid physical conflicts as much as possible. In the event of an unavoidable dispute

between applicants, suppressing the opponent to the point of fainting or exhaustion
is permitted; however, causing severe injuries will lead to immediate
disqualification.’

In a situation where everyone was heavily armed, a fierce fight could inadvertently
lead to serious injuries, regardless of intent.

Were they really willing to risk disqualification to start a conflict?

“You think there are no eyes watching here? I can just say I didn’t see anything even
if you ended up crippled.”

“…”

Some of the sword-carrying men leered unpleasantly at Cecil’s legs, visible through
the tears in her skirt.

One of the men, who looked like a mage, whispered something to the leader. As the
leader listened, he glanced at Cecil’s face several times, as if recognizing who she
was.

“Oh… you’re from the Magic Engineering department?”

“So what if I am?”

The leader smirked offensively and relaxed his sword as if to welcome her, spreading
his arms wide open.

“If you’re from Magic Engineering, that changes things. You’re not our competition
then.”

Cecil’s face contorted with disgust at the sudden change in demeanor.

The leader looked Cecil’s group up and down, then spoke.

“You lot look like a hopeless case, but if you promise to cooperate with us, I’ll let you
tag along. Isn’t that quite a fair offer?”

He tapped the insignia on his shoulder, as if telling her to take a good look.

“You can probably guess our capabilities, right? You must know what this symbol
represents.”
The insignia of the Ironguard Knights. They were known to deal specifically with
demons. They lacked the knightly honor and carried more of a mercenary group’s
traits. Their skill and reputation were well known, but Cecil had never imagined they
would be such narrow-minded individuals.

“…”

The leader then pointed his sword towards the man in the mask, continuing his
ultimatum.

“Of course, the condition is you leave that fellow behind. No hard feelings, but we’re
saturated with swords.”

Cecil turned to look at her companion.

The man in the mask stood still as a statue, observing the situation without making a
single gesture towards Cecil.

She pondered for a moment.

Cecil was capable of taking them on by herself. The problem was that the magic tools
weren’t designed for combat against people, and their use could end fatally if
mismanaged.

Of course, their offer wasn’t worth considering.

“Candy, let’s just take another path.”

Backtracking seemed to be the best option for the moment.

As Cecil turned to leave, the man in the mask grasped her wrist.

“…?”

He met Cecil’s eyes quietly, seeming to have a different plan in mind.

He then whispered calmly in Cecil’s ear.

“Stay back.”
“What?”

It was the first thing he had said since meeting her. It was so sudden, and
unexpectedly, his voice sounded perfectly normal, leaving her momentarily stunned.

After blinking a few times, Cecil asked.

“You want to fight…?”

He nodded lightly.

“Fine. Do as you like.”

The eyes visible through the mask were faintly shining golden.

‘Unique eyes. I should remember that.’

Cecil, deciding to observe how things unfolded, followed his instructions silently.
Given his abilities against the Plantaras, he was clearly skilled, so he seemed worth
trusting.

She backed away, glaring at the knights as she went.

The leader furrowed his brow as he watched her move.

“Ha, so it comes to this, huh?”

Once Cecil was at a safe distance, the man in the mask briskly stepped forward,
wooden sword in hand, advancing toward the knights.

The leader raised his blade signaling to his comrades.

The knights surrounded the man, positioning themselves with practiced ease—
movements that suggested long-standing teamwork.

The mage stood at the back, chanting a spell, and summoned five fireballs that
floated in the air, targeting the man in the mask.

Cecil watched tensely from a distance as the standoff continued for a moment.
The man in the mask made the first move.

His action was unforeseen by all.

He tossed the wooden sword lightly at the feet of the mage and then raised his arms
as if to surrender.

The knights stared at the unexpected surrender, seemingly dumbfounded by the lack
of resistance.

“…?”

“What?”

Suddenly, they exchanged glances and started laughing amongst themselves.

“Heh heh heh.”

“Pfft.”

“Kuk kuk kuk, ahahahahaha!”

“Trying to act tough in front of a girl, pfft, snort.”

The knights lost their composure, clutching their stomachs as they roared with
laughter.

Meanwhile, the wooden sword began to wriggle bizarrely.

The mage cried out abruptly.

“Wait, wait! Hey, what the hell is this?!”

Where the wooden sword had been, a sapling had appeared, entwining around the
mage’s body like cobwebs.

Simultaneously, as if the man in the mask had been waiting for this moment, he
swung his arm down towards his feet.

A sudden intense light erupted from his hand, followed by a massive explosion.
Boom!

The area where they stood was instantly shrouded in thick dust.
Startled birds burst into flight from the forest in unison at the explosion.

The dust, dense as fog, formed a thick curtain, completely blocking the view of the
trail.

Even Cecil, who had some knowledge of explosions, couldn’t comprehend how it had
been triggered.

The man had clearly had empty hands. Seeing the strong magical aura, it seemed like
it could be magic.

“Cough! Damn it, this dust.”

“Aaagh! It won’t come off!”

“Quick, finish that bastard off!”

The scene descended into chaos in an instant.

Soon, flashes of light flickered several times within the dust cloud.

A fight was taking place, but without the sound of weapons clashing – only
occasional cries of death echoed through the air.

After a moment, all sounds abruptly stopped.

A breeze began to sweep away the dust, gradually revealing the forms of fallen
knights on the road.

The fight was over.

The man in the mask emerged, leisurely walking while dusting off his wooden
sword. It seemed not to have taken even three minutes to deal with the knights.
Not a single wound was visible on him.

Cecil, seeing the effortless way he carried himself as if coming back from a warm-up
exercise, immediately sensed it.

He was someone not inferior to notable figures in this exam like Gale, Sion, Luna,
Victor, or Naias.

He only moved quietly because of some unknown circumstance, avoiding drawing

attention to himself.

Cecil grinned at the man.

To have crossed paths with such a companion so early in the exam seemed like a
stroke of luck, turning what seemed like misfortune into a fortunate event having
been separated from her fellow contenders.

The man gestured to Cecil that they should move on and turned to continue on the
trail.

She followed, fanning away the dust around her.

The knights lay scattered, knocked out or sprawled out, with broken steel swords
embedded in the ground around them.

There were no noticeable injuries on them like bruises or cuts.

Even for Cecil, who knew little about swordsmanship, it felt like an odd sight to
behold.

Especially the mage, whose face had turned so pale he was almost unrecognizable.

It was clear that asking the man how he did it would be futile as he would not
answer.

Cecil called out to his back.

“You’re quite something, aren’t you?”

The man stopped and looked contemplatively at Cecil.

“Why, you got something to say?”

He then pulled out candy from within his attire and handed it to her.

Instead of the usual single piece, this time he gave her five.

“Is this because I complimented you?”

He shook his head.

“Then you want me to eat this and keep your secret?”

He nodded twice.

Cecil pouted with dissatisfaction.

“Ugh, so frustrating. Just keep all secrets, okay? Can’t you just take off the mask and
relax, sing a song or something?”

A soft chuckle was heard from within the mask.

“Wow, you actually can laugh. Thought you were a wooden figure or something.”

Her initial impression of him was of someone completely closed off, like a long-term
prisoner or a monk, but now, he felt somewhat familiar.

He grabbed Cecil’s wrist and pressed the candies into her hand, then continued on
his way.

“You’re pretty willful, aren’t you?”

Cecil popped one of the candies in her mouth and chewed as she followed him.

After proceeding along the main path for a while, Cecil glanced back.

From a distance, Plantaras were carrying away those who had been left behind,
heading back towards Eternia.

“Stupid fools, don’t come back again.”

There was a small chapel on one of the streams of Grace Mountain, marked as a
waypoint on the map.

Around the chapel was a garden adorned with evergreen trees.

Because of a large rocky peak protruding out to the south, half the area around the
waypoint was in shadow.

And in that shaded space, about sixty candidates lay recovering like patients,
sprawled out as if in a field hospital.

From time to time, Plantaras would carry unconscious or exhausted candidates

coming from the gorge and other bypasses to the waypoint.

Some fallen ones were being tended to by a few alchemists and mages.

The scene evoked the imagery of a field hospital.

I had learned everything from the reports Silveryn had given me. The journey from
the starting point to the defeat of the gatekeeper was merely a preparatory phase to
exhaust all the supplies the candidates had brought with them.

The real exam began when candidates had to procure and produce their own food
and potions from within Grace Mountain.

The candidates had to choose whether to form teams to help each other and earn
bonus points by slowly reaching the summit, or to reach the peak quickly with
minimal personnel to score more than just the bonus points.

I had to reunite with my friends; I had no business joining the rest. Our time at the
waypoint was at an end.

I had made enough progress in befriending Cecil, so I was not too hung up on
lingering.

Though having befriended her while still in disguise had become a slight headache,
with much else to focus on, I was planning to let that problem sit for a while.

Cecil seemed to be looking for her comrades, scouring the area incessantly.
Suddenly, someone yelled from the direction of the chapel.

“Sister!”

A woman about my age ran swiftly towards Cecil.

“Trisha!”

The two of them embraced the moment they met.

After a long hug, the girl named Trisha pulled away and complained.

“No way! Sister, your dress is… again… Ugh, I can’t deal with it. Really.”

She made a disgusted face at the sight of Cecil’s skirt.

Cecil pointed at me and said.

“It got like this because of a brawl that happened while I was with this friend.”

Trisha gave me a long look and seemed to ask doubtfully.

“A brawl… happened?”

Both my and Cecil’s appearance and attire made us stand out, which could easily
cause misunderstanding.

I hoped they would refrain from saying anything that might lead to such
misinterpretations.

Cecil introduced me.

“Right, this is my Candy Pouch. Just ‘Candy’ for short.”

Look at that, Candy Pouch? Candy Pouch, seriously?

It seems I may need to renegotiate the terms of our relationship soon.

Trisha greeted me nonchalantly despite the odd introduction.

“I’ve heard about you. Thanks for taking good care of our sister.”

They had been constantly communicating through Stitches, so it seems my story had
been shared a few times in the process.

Cecil’s other companion had gone out to keep an eye on the gatekeepers, she
mentioned.

Twilight was setting in, and it was an awkward time to move forward. Both Cecil and
I planned to stay at the waypoint for a while.

After the sun had completely set, her remaining companions returned from their
scouting.

It was a group composed of one of Cecil’s male cousins and four women from the
Alchemy and Magic Engineering departments.

With all six of them gathered, including Cecil, the group burst into endless chatter. I
wondered how Cecil could have kept quiet when she was with me.

After joining her companions, Cecil distanced herself from me.

It wasn’t my place to mingle with them, and I too had to begin my own activities in
earnest.

***

Lilith had powered through to the waypoint with the help of vitality potions.

After that, the journey went very smoothly.

There was no need to deplete her magic, nor to draw her Century Tree Wand.

There were no encounters with Plantaras since she started following the main path.

However, driven by impatience and taking extra vitality potions instead of rest, she
had only one potion left after reaching the waypoint.

Going through the rough terrain alone was a very new experience for Lilith.
Throughout her life, she had always been accompanied by knight escorts whenever
she went out.

Though it was just a day’s journey, for Lilith, the experience was a harrowing
loneliness and terror like she’d never faced before in her life.

Which is why the emotion she felt upon reaching the waypoint was not satisfaction,
but a pang of sorrow.

Without her realizing, the desperation for companionship had grown intense,
yearning just to have somebody around for a simple conversation, skillful or not.

By moonrise, crystal spheres were embedded around the waypoint’s chapel, casting
light in the darkness.

The atmosphere among the vanguard at the waypoint was just as subdued.

She wandered around, actively looking for anyone she was on friendly terms with.

Lilith was among the applicants who had entered early, which meant there was no
familiar face in sight.

‘No one…?’

All her connections and popularity seemed futile in this place.

Then, beyond the garden and across an open space, she spotted the man in the mask
sitting against the rocky face.

He embraced his wooden sword, quietly sitting, killing time.

There were no companions around him. It seemed he was in a situation not much
different from Lilith’s.

‘Good, that’s perfect.’

Lilith found a spot about ten paces away from him, leaning back against the rock just
like he did.

She waited for a moment, looking for an opportunity to initiate conversation.

Sitting quietly, she noticed a woman slicing through the darkness from the side of the
garden, approaching them.

As the woman drew closer, Lilith recognized her. It was an utterly unexpected figure.

Brown wavy hair falling down to her chest, thick eyebrows, and large, sharp eyes.
There was an exotic aura characteristic of mixed heritage from her features.

The prodigy of Magic Engineering. It was Cecil Fontar.

‘Cecil? Why is Cecil here?’

She crouched down in front of the man in the mask, aligning her gaze with his.

After clearing her throat a couple of times, she spoke.

“Hem hem, Candy, we have decided to leave early tomorrow morning. Are you also
leaving in the morning?”

The man looked at Cecil and nodded, indicating that they knew each other.

“I see. We’re planning a detour for an Alchemy and Magic Engineering assignment.
We’ll be reaching the summit a bit late, but we’ll be gathering ample cooperation
bonus points, so no major issues. The only problem is, we don’t have anyone skilled
with a sword. So I was wondering…”

Cecil trailed off for a moment, then spoke again.

“That… would you like to come with us?”

‘What…?’

It was a shocking proposition for Lilith.

She wasn’t the only one interested in the man. Moreover, Cecil Fontar, a top
contender for valedictorian of the Magic Engineering department, had recognized
him.

And the man’s response was even more astonishing.

He silently shook his head.

Cecil chuckled as if she had anticipated his answer.

“I thought you’d say that. Guess I won’t see you tomorrow morning.”

She rummaged through her bag and laid out five shimmering spheres in front of his
feet.

They were magic bombs, having undergone complex magical refinement.

“This is my way of saying thanks for looking after me so well. You know what these
are, right?”

She slowly stood up and continued speaking.

“Next time, tell me your name. If I keep calling you Candy, others might think it’s
weird. I’ve got high standards; I only like handsome men.”

Putting pieces of information together, Lilith thought Cecil must have known the
man’s face.

‘Is that why he’s wearing a mask?’

Overhearing their conversation, Lilith’s curiosity about the man swelled

uncontrollably.

“Then I’m off. See you around!”

Cecil waved her hand in farewell and quickly departed.

From their conversation and general context, it appeared they had traveled together
to the waypoint.

Lilith’s feelings were not the best.

He had been so aloof with her, and yet Cecil had spoken as if he had taken good care
of her.

He didn’t seem to have known her for long.

He came across as someone who would openly discriminate against people based on
their abilities or fame.

Lilith’s dissatisfaction grew bit by bit, pushing her to approach the man and start a
conversation out of the blue.

She moved closer to the man and said,

“Hello.”

“…”

“Recognize me, don’t you?”

***

Though I had expected it, being rejected to my face didn’t feel nice.

‘Sheesh, didn’t take a moment to think before cutting it off.’

Cecil glanced back as she walked away from our group, noticing that he was fixated
on a well-groomed and pretty noblewoman sitting near him.

The woman was pouring out stories to the man, seemingly having an acquaintance
with him.

Cecil’s offer to work together for the bonus points must have been an attractive
alternative for him as well.

No matter how skilled, he couldn’t break through the gatekeepers alone through
lanes A and B. He had to gather companions one way or another.

Not mingling with others, he wouldn’t just randomly seek out companions, so there
was only one reason for his refusal.

‘It’s because of that woman.’

An indescribable feeling of discomfort lingered.

He didn’t really matter to her. Cecil’s group proposal had been more out of necessity
than personal interest.

But the issue had somehow become emotional.

The problem was having seen him seemingly paired with a rather pretty woman.

If she had just left, no such feelings would have arisen, but turning back introduced a
subtle but uncomfortable sense of being overshadowed by that girl.
The man in the mask did not respond to Lilith’s question. He merely looked her over
slowly with an expression as if he were observing an inanimate object.

Does he remember? Or is he pretending not to remember, despite doing so?

Or does he genuinely not have any recollection of Lilith in his mind at all?

It was unclear whether he lacked social skills or just lived by his own rules,
indifferent to the world around him.

Staying at the waypoint for a day or two more would probably allow Lilith to join a
group with ease, but at this moment, this man in the mask was her only
breakthrough.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember. I saw you fight back in Rigved.”

Whatever else was true, it seemed certain he was listening to her. That was enough.

“You’re not trying to go on by yourself without a team, are you?”

“…”

“You’re just like me. I’m not exactly looking to find a team either.”

It felt odd, like talking to a statue.

‘Are you even listening?’

Cecil could at least get a nod from him, but with Lilith, there was nothing.

Despite the nail being driven into her pride, Lilith suppressed her irritation.

“So I plan on following the path you’ve blazed. That’s okay, right?”
There was no need for a sense of camaraderie. Since he refused Cecil’s proposal, he
clearly wasn’t expecting anything.

The man neither confirmed nor denied. He simply turned his head away from Lilith.

As if it wasn’t a matter needing his permission.

Lilith gave up trying to talk any more. It didn’t seem like he would listen.

She steeled her mind to simply take what she needed from him and part ways when
the time was right.

Lilith sat down quietly, maintaining appropriate distance from the man, and hugged
her knees to her chest.

The air grew cold as night descended in the deep forest. She felt so hungry her
stomach seemed to stick to her back.

Being treated coldly by someone else was not something she was accustomed to.

It was like she was an ousted noble left to sit on the cold ground.

She spent the night curled up like a squirrel facing winter.

***

Early at dawn, Trisha woke Cecil with a shake.

“Sister, sister!”

“Uhh, ugh.”

“Get up quickly!”

Cecil rubbed her eyes and struggled to sit up.

“…Ugh. Why?”

“Sister, isn’t the man in the mask your friend?”

Cecil yawned as she responded.

“Haaam, yeah… a friend.”

“He’s heading toward the gorge right now. Shouldn’t we stop him?”

“…What?”

Cecil was fully awake now.

Heading to the gorge? Did he find some team members? Does he have a strategy for
the gatekeepers?

“Where is he right now?”

Trisha pointed in a direction.

“Sister, over there, he’s going in right now.”

The man in the mask was making his way deep into the direction of the gorge,
becoming just a speck in the distance. The woman from the previous night was
following behind him.

As Cecil had assumed, the two of them were indeed traveling together.

Yet apart from them, there were no other companions in sight.

Cecil puffed her cheeks with displeasure.

“Ugh, forget it.”

She lay down again and covered herself with a blanket.

“Sister?”

“There was a reason I tried to recruit him. He’s really strong. He’ll probably take care
of himself.”

“But sister…”
Trisha seemed restless, despite Cecil’s reassurance.

“What nowww.”

“Gale and Luna’s groups gave up on that route and detoured. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“What’s the difference between a detour and the gorge?”

“Well, since the front route through the gorge is the fastest, I’ve heard the Plantaras
guarding there are much bigger and stronger than those on the detours…”

“What? Why are you telling me this just now?”

“Well, we weren’t going through the gorge… no one has used that path until now…
what to do.”

By the time Cecil looked again, the man was already gone with no trace.

It was too late to chase after him.

“…He made his choice, so we’ll just have to watch for now.”

Perhaps he knew what he was getting into.

“Is it really going to be alright?”

“I don’t know…”

Even Gale’s group and Luna’s group had failed, it would be a stretch for just those
two to take down the gatekeeper.

‘…But if it’s Candy.’

Somehow, she had a feeling if anyone could pull it off, it would be him.

***

“You… are you sure you should be going this way?”

Lilith realized she wasn’t in any kind of partnership with the man, so she coughed
awkwardly and held her peace.

She unfolded the map and checked their path. True, the gorge segment was the
shortest route. However, during her time at the waypoint, none of the contenders
had dared to set foot in this gorge.

There were surely talks among the vanguard about it. She couldn’t shake off a sense
of foreboding.

Without any hesitation, the man cut through the dark gorge, advancing with
purposeful strides.

Steep cliffs flanked both sides of them, extending long and tall.

Though the width of the path was broad enough for four or five carriages to pass,
making it not feel narrow.

However, the winding and dark nature of the gorge instilled in her the constant fear
that something might jump out at any second.

The thought of leaving the man behind and retreating crossed her mind.

They went on in silence for about an hour.

Though morning came, the gorge remained shadowed.

Suddenly, strange sounds echoed through the gorge.

Koong! Click clack click clack.

“Aaack!”

Startled, Lilith immediately covered her ears with her palms.

“What is it. What.”

Even with her ears blocked, the sounds reverberated through Lilith’s entire body
again.

Click click clack koong! Click clack koong!

The ground shook. This was something entirely different from what they had
encountered before – a massive heaviness. It felt as if the entire gorge trembled in
fear of this gigantic thing before them.

There was definitely something up ahead.

And the sound was getting closer.

The man stopped in his tracks and drew his wooden sword.

Koong! Koong! Koong!

The massive object was rapidly approaching.

And the first thing they encountered was a gigantic hand clutching onto the cliffside.

It looked strong enough to crush a bull with one hand, massive in size.

Then, around the curving road, a Plantara the size of a house revealed itself.

Click click clack

The wooden joints rubbed together, producing a chilling noise.

Its long legs and feet blocked the path through the gorge.

“…!”

Lilith was petrified by the sight, unable to make a sound.

The man also seemed to have not anticipated the Plantara to be this gigantic as he
hung his arms limply and stared dumbly up at it.

The Plantara saw the man and immediately showed hostility.

“Why are you just standing there, run!”

Lilith yelled from behind him.

A lengthy arm swooped down horizontally, aiming at where the man stood.
Whoosh!

The man swiftly ducked low, dodging the sweeping palm of the Plantara.

The hand that passed by kicked up a strong wind like a giant fan.

Lilith’s instincts screamed a warning.

‘This isn’t something to fight against.’

She began to back away slowly.

“You idiot! Just run away!”

To Lilith, the man seemed out of his mind. He stood his ground, waiting for the next
attack.

Was he really aiming to fight this thing? What power did he think he had?

He launched himself out of the way again, avoiding the Plantara’s fist and deftly
striking with his sword, but it made only a slight scratch – no significant damage was
done.

‘This is futile. A wasted effort.’

The way he fought was recklessly foolhardy. This was a hopeless fight.

‘Did I misjudge him?’

In some way, she felt he was downright foolish.

Suddenly, the wooden sword the man held began to wriggle and then transformed
into a sapling with thick stems and lush leaves.

Lilith was shocked at the sight.

“What, what is that?”

What was he planning to do with that when a sword’s blow seemed barely
sufficient?
The Plantara’s palm swung from below as if to overturn the entire ground, narrowly
missing the man on its way up.

As the palm swept by, the sapling clung to it like a web.

The man, like a monkey swinging on vines, grabbed the sapling and was lifted into
the air by the palm’s trajectory.

The sapling then returned to the form of a wooden sword, and he kicked off the
palm, jumping onto the Plantara’s shoulder.

All his movements flowed seamlessly like water.

“What the…”

From a distance, Lilith watched with eyes wide at his spectacle.

He stood on the Plantara’s shoulder and thrust the wooden sword forcefully into its
arm joint.

It seemed he was trying to sever the joint, the Plantara’s weakness.

However, due to the Plantara’s massive size, no cracks appeared in the joint. For the
Plantara, the sword might as well have been no more than a toothpick.

He repeated stabbing the shoulder joint a few times. It seemed a futile gesture,
entirely useless.

“Why is he fighting so recklessly?”

And then, the Plantara’s fist struck the man’s entire body directly.

Thwack!

It was a blow powerful enough to leave an ordinary person in a near-death state

from just a single hit.

“Kyaaak!”

As though she had been hit herself, Lilith clasped her hands over her mouth in
horror.

He was sent flying behind the Plantara into the depths of the gorge, plummeting
helplessly.

The fight ended as abruptly as it began.

Having dispatched the man, the Plantara fastened its gaze on Lilith.

“…!”

She was the next target.

Drurg, thump!

The Plantara started heading toward Lilith.

Gradually stepping back, she soon turned and ran with all her might.

But the Plantara, with its long strides incomparable to Lilith’s, caught up to her in
just a few steps.

Lilith tripped over a stone and fell.

“Kyah!”

She tried to pick herself up, but her arms and legs shook so violently she couldn’t
support herself.

Tears poured down her face as she was paralyzed with fear.

The overwhelming disparity in strength left her without the courage to attempt any
magical resistance.

“Sob, Mommy…”

She turned her body around and looked up at the Plantara.

The Plantara, having caught up to Lilith in moments, was winding up its arm and
body for a strike, bent on dispatching her.
“I don’t want to, no, please no.”

Terrified, she pushed her body back.

Just then, a piercing light burst from the shoulder joint of the Plantara.

Whirring.

The Plantara lashed out with all its might.

Lilith tightly closed her eyes.

An explosion followed immediately.

Boom!

After the blast, silence fell. No other sound could be heard.

Lilith, who had been crouched down, sensed something was off and slowly opened
her eyes.

“…!”

The Plantara’s palm was frozen in place right in front of her.

Something cold clung to her face. With trembling hands, Lilith brushed it off her face.

It was white frost.

An unbelievable sight unfolded before her eyes.

“How? This can’t be.”

The right upper body of the Plantara was frozen solid, a stark white.

The Plantara trembled violently as it tried to move despite being half-frozen.

Lilith recalled.

‘Those magic explosives?’

The man hadn’t just been poking around with his sword— he had planted a magic
bomb inside its shoulder.

Something was visible through the fingers of the immobile Plantara, seen from the
depths of the gorge. The man was getting up and approaching from there. As he
swung his arm, a dazzling light flared up all at once.

That light charged at a ferocious speed, hitting the Plantara squarely.

Kaboom!

“Kyaaak!”

Startled by the blast, Lilith curled up.

The frozen upper body of the Plantara was completely shattered into pieces.

The fragments scattered everywhere, and cold splinters rained down on Lilith.

What remained of the Plantara’s right upper body was obliterated, and the
remaining left arm hung tattered before finally falling.

The Plantara lost its strength and collapsed to the side.

Thump!

Lilith hastily cleared away the remnants of the Plantara that had sprinkled over her.

“Panting, panting, panting.”

In the blink of an eye, it was all over.

Her heart was still pounding furiously.

“How on earth, how did he…”

The man in the mask was staggering back from a distance, holding a mysterious
sword that shone with a strange, bright light in his hand.

***
Cecil struggled up onto a bulging rock on the mountain ridge.

Looking up from below, Trisha asked her.

“Sister, are you okay?”

Cecil dusted off the dirt attached to her clothing.

“Yeah, could you throw me the telescope?”

“Here, catch!”

Cecil caught the telescope Trisha threw up to her and climbed to the highest point of
the rock.

From there, she had a clear view over Grace Mountain.

The evening glow painted the forest red, and a refreshing breeze blew.

“Sigh…”

She wasn’t here just to enjoy the scenery.

Cecil aimed the telescope towards the entrance of the cave detour, monitoring the
situation.

Above the dense forest, she could see the upper body of the Plantara guardian
violently thrashing about.

Silver wolf spirits, likely Luna’s, were tearing at the Plantara’s shoulders and arms.

Even so, the accompanying mages’ fervent casting of flame magic didn’t seem to
inflict any significant damage.

The battle had been ongoing for three whole hours.

“Looks like Luna’s group is still struggling.”

Messages then began flying in towards Cecil.

She took her eyes off the telescope and collected the notes brought by the Stitches.

Her compatriots, who had gone out on reconnaissance just like her, were reporting
the situation.

“Hmm… Gale’s group is making progress…”

She read a note from a colleague who had scouted towards the gorge, then her face
went blank with astonishment.

The note contained unbelievable news.

It said that the gorge gatekeeper had been shattered to pieces.

That was right exactly where Candy had gone, taking just one other person with him.

Cecil muttered to herself, staring dumbfounded at the note.

“Candy really is strong.”

He had managed to defeat the gatekeeper faster than any other contender.
I had observed some mages casting freezing spells on the Plantaras. Plantaras do not
need to maintain a body temperature and are not susceptible to frostbite. Even if
their exteriors were frozen, they would immediately shatter the ice and move on.

To subdue a Plantara with freezing, it needs to be thoroughly frozen from the inside
out.

The bomb Cecil gave me had a much better performance than the ones used for
fishing.

Given the nature of magic engineers, combat becomes somewhat difficult once
consumables are depleted. Giving me a magic bomb, which is like a lifeline, makes
for a curious sentiment. It was a favor larger than expected.

There were still more gates to pass for the top candidates, and some sections where
breakthrough was uncertain, so it had to be tested.

The experiment was a resounding success.

Thanks to Cecil’s gift, a bit of a path has opened up for me.

However, it is not entirely good. The punch from the Plantara hurt fiercely.

From my encounters with Plantaras during the exams, I realized something: they are
meant to subdue the candidates, not to kill them. Because of this combat mechanism,
I was a bit less tense. It was my oversight.

Lilith is there calming her mind. She seems to have been quite scared, as she is still
sniffling a bit.

I sat leaning against the wall. The tumble had made a mess of my clothes. Blood
seeped through the shirt hidden under my cloak. It’s not a good situation.
Lilith approached me slowly, her emotions still not quite settled.

“I guess I have to say it. Sniffle, thanks for saving me…”

“…”

“Now I’m certain. You really are strong.”

“And you… you are the craziest person I’ve ever seen or heard of in my life.”

It’s as if she was raised in a greenhouse, unaware of the multitude of human types
out there. If she knew what goes into making a griffon potion, she would probably
foam at the mouth.

While friendship stories about camaraderie formed through adversity are nice, I
didn’t have the luxury to bother with Lilith at the moment. As I was without proper
armor, I had to absorb all the shock with my body.

I took off my cloak. Then, I started unfastening my shirt buttons from the top.

Lilith gave a puzzled look at my actions.

“…?”

She spoke in a slightly flustered voice.

“Wa, wait, what are you doing now…?”

With my shirt off, my bare skin was exposed.

My shoulder and chest were badly bruised, and there was a deep gash from my side
to my back.

She seemed to begrudgingly accept the reason for my actions upon seeing the
injuries and did not speak further.

I pulled out a potion from my backpack. It was one Silveryn had given me for when I
got hurt.

Lilith’s gaze was sharp. She stood with her arms crossed, staring blankly at me, the
fidgeting of her feet annoyingly distracting. I looked up to meet her eyes, prompting
her to finally glance away.

“…”

Was Cecil tearing her skirt the same feeling as this?

Is this the first time you’ve seen a guy’s body?

I popped the cork and downed an entire bottle of the potion. The potion ingredients
would start circulating and internally fix the damages that weren’t visible to the eye.

I tossed the empty bottle aside and took out another one.

Lilith stared incredulously at the empty bottle.

“Wa, wait, what did you just drink?”

Ignoring her, I opened the bottle and began pouring it roughly over the wounded
area.

“No, wait! That’s not how you use this!”

Then she clung to me, grabbing my wrist.

“The pattern etched on this glass bottle. It’s definite, that’s a Mericania special elixir.”

Lilith’s face was one of horror.

“How did you get this without even knowing how to use elixirs? You can’t buy these
with money!”

“…”

She said these words, yet she was still sniffling.

I understand I’m impressive, but what good is holding onto someone in pain?

As I gazed blankly at her, Lilith stuttered.

“Tha… that… No, sigh, just hand it here. I’ll apply it for you.”

She snatched the potion from my hand and took out a handkerchief from within her
clothes.

Then she soaked the handkerchief with the potion and took a deep breath.

“Ready? I’m applying now.”

With a grave expression, she started dabbing the potion onto my wound.

Her hand was so tense it seemed she was grasping onto something vital.

So engrossed in what she was doing, she didn’t notice that some of her dark gray hair
had brushed against my body and become stained with blood.

Without realizing, she placed her other hand on me and then startled herself, quickly
retracting it.

“Uh… sh-show me your back.”

As I turned, Lilith continued applying potion on my wound.

“The elixir heals fast, so if you don’t apply it slowly, sniffle, it will scar badly.”

She is probably concerned about a through-and-through scar on my side from an old

fight with a mace.

She doesn’t mention it, but the scar is something that would certainly leave a strong
impression on her.

For me, it’s like a medal of honor, so I didn’t want to erase the scar.

As it’s identifying, I’d better not carelessly take off my shirt if I’m not wearing a
mask.

“See, healed up nicely?”

Her sniffling had stopped, and a proud smile played on her lips.
Lilith closed the elixir bottle. The wound had healed, but there was some potion left.

I gathered my clothes once I was sure I was healed. There was no more time to tarry
here.

Lilith spoke gruffly.

“Don’t I get at least a ‘thanks’ or something?”

I quietly looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were beginning to cover the sky bit by bit.

***

Joyce was making his way up a valley with his colleagues from the Weisel Knight
Order.

His fellow knight Julian asked,

“Is this the right place?”

“Just a moment.”

Joyce pulled out a map. It was different from the one given by the Eternia examiners
that he held in his hand.

After much inquiry back in Rigved, he had barely managed to procure this map,
which showed a secret route that bypassed the 1st waypoint and directly led to the
2nd.

Thanks to that, they were heading to a place unknown to the other candidates.

“Are you sure. But didn’t you say there would be Plantaras lying in wait here too?”

They had been warned that even though it was less than the number one would
encounter following the officially distributed map, some Plantaras would still reside
on this shortcut.

Contrary to the herb seller’s explanation who had sold them the map, the valley was
unnaturally quiet.
“Let’s just go.”

They set out following the route as marked on the unofficial map.

As they proceeded, at a certain point, Julian suddenly startled and cried out.

“Ah!”

He gripped Joyce’s arm.

“Damn it. There’s a Plantara guardian here too!”

Julian pointed to a spot in the valley.

A Plantara as large as a house was partly visible, with its arms and head draped over
one area of the valley.

Here was a guardian they weren’t supposed to encounter until after the 1st
waypoint, yet it blocked their unofficial path.

It appears Eternia had anticipated candidates might try this route as well. They
hadn’t held out much hope, but indeed, they hadn’t allowed for any tricks.

As Julian and the others tried to run away, Joyce stopped them.

“Wait, wait.”

Joyce had a feeling something was off.

“Wait, look! Isn’t it not moving?”

All the knights calmed their racing hearts and observed the guardian.

With its head peeking out threateningly over the Weisel Knight Order, there was no
other movement.

“…It’s true. There’s something odd.”

All the knights swallowed hard and exchanged glances.

At Joyce’s gesture, they all tiptoed, slowly making their way deeper into the valley.

As they squeezed through an area hidden by trees and piles of rocks, a large clearing
came into view.

Those who witnessed the scene were stunned.

Someone had come before them and swept through the area.

Dozens of Plantaras were sprawled out, cleanly cut in halves.

Most striking was the Plantara guardian itself.

A guardian the size of a house lay with its upper body cleanly severed, crashed
against one rocky wall of the valley.

“What on earth…”

And the place where the guardian had been cut emitted a faint blue afterglow, still
smoking.

Joyce said,

“…Looks like another candidate passed through first.”

Julian shook his head in disbelief, muttering over and over,

“What kind of… crazy, this isn’t something a human could do.”

“…”

“Damn it, this is monstrous. Could it be the work of a candidate like us? No, right? It’s
too different from our level.”

Joyce watched the remnants of the Plantara closely.

He had heard rumors about a sword that left a blue light.

Rumors that had spread far and wide after the confrontation with Gale.
“There’s only one person who could have done this.”

Many epithets were attached to that person.

The talent of a century. The disciple of the Swordmaster.

If the rumors were to be believed, this was a feat no other candidate could match—
an overwhelming realm of power.

“It must have been Sion, only Sion.”

***

The man in the mask had caught a deer and prepared a suitable amount of meat.
Lilith gathered dry twigs and mushrooms.

Once everything had been moved into the cave, rain started to pour down just in
time.

As he started to create sparks with flint in front of the piled-up twigs inside the cave,
Lilith said,

“Step aside. There’s no need for that.”

As soon as she chanted an incantation, fire blossomed instantly.

“…”

Speaking not a word, the man began to skewer mushrooms and pieces of meat.

Lilith used her handkerchief to wipe off the falling raindrops. The handkerchief was
stained pitch-black with blood.

“Sigh, it was one I treasured.”

She laid the handkerchief out to dry on a rock sheltered from the rain and sat
opposite the man.

Then, she began to skewer pieces of venison and mushrooms, cooking them over the
fire.
There was a sense that they were in perfect harmony, even without the need for
much conversation.

It was a peculiar sense of stability after a long ordeal. Despite the severe conditions
compared to her usual abode, strangely, she felt uplifted.

She watched the sizzling skewers and suddenly thought,

“Hey,”

“…”

“At this point, we’re pretty much like partners, aren’t we?”

The man in the mask looked at Lilith intently.

And then he firmly shook his head.

“Huh.”

They had spent the entire day together, he had personally tended to injuries, they
shared the food they foraged amicably, and were camping together in the cave, just
the two of them.

Wasn’t that all after having conquered such trials together? They weren’t partners?

It implied he could leave Lilith behind without saying goodbye at any given moment.

Something surged up inside her.

A feeling of sorrow. And a peculiar sense of hurt.

Even if he didn’t actually feel that way, couldn’t he have at least given a pretty
answer?

With a face full of resentment, Lilith said,

“You’re really nasty, you know that?”

“I just don’t understand the reason why.”

“…”

Sion’s master stood with his back to her, silently gazing out the window at the
sprawling cityscape.

“Sion, out of all the children I’ve seen, you possess the greatest talent.”

“Then why exactly…!”

“But you’re only halfway there.”

“Then all the more reason I shouldn’t go to Eternia. I still have so much to learn from
you, Master. It would be a waste of time to spend four years at Eternia.”

Sion deemed attending Eternia meaningless. Even though she had an incomparable
teacher like the Swordmaster by her side, spending four years at Eternia was nothing
but a waste of time in her eyes.

However, her master had a differing opinion.

“No, it is precisely for that reason you must go to Eternia.”

“There you go again with that.”

“That other half is not something I can complete for you.”

“I honestly have no idea what this other half is. Master, you are always so elusive on
this issue, it’s not like you. But it doesn’t matter. You remember our bet, don’t you? If
I defeat all the candidates, you agreed to permit me to forsake admission into
Eternia.”
“Of course, I remember.”

“Now that I’ve even defeated Gale Barianne, there’s no one left who is a match for
me. As promised, once I finish the entrance exam, I will give up on entering Eternia.”

He swirled the wine in his glass leisurely as he spoke.

“Didn’t I always emphasize that? It’s not over until it’s truly over.”

It was strange. Even as she defeated entrance candidates and even the
upperclassmen, he seemed unworried about the prospect of her losing the bet.

“Do you think, Master, that someone who can defeat me is going to drop out of the
sky?”

He laughed robustly, his demeanor reminiscent of a seasoned gambler.

“Hahahaha! That’s entirely within the realm of possibility.”

It was ludicrous. If it were anyone other than her master, she would have accused
them of forcing an unfair condition.

Yet he looked at Sion with a kind of pity.

“I’ve traveled with you across the entire continent, and yet you are still within the
well.”

***

In the well.

Sion mulled over his words as she climbed Mount Grace.

She knew her abilities didn’t even come close to her master’s, and she was well
aware of how far she had to go to reach the zenith of swordsmanship.

She could accept being “in the well.”

However, to Sion, Eternia felt like another well altogether.

She couldn’t understand what her master expected from Eternia.

He was the one who taught her that if she was certain she was correct, she should
push through to the end, no matter what anyone said. Following his teaching, Sion
was simply determined to see her opinion through.

She didn’t want to leave behind any regrets. Therefore, Sion sought an untouched
path and traversed Mount Grace alone, without anyone’s help.

In doing so, Sion reached the second waypoint faster than anyone.

Following the map from here would take less than half a day to reach the summit.

The feeling she had upon seeing the empty waypoint wasn’t one of satisfaction or
triumph. Instead, it was a sense of disillusionment.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing or what significance it held.

Part of her may have hoped for an unexpected twist in the wager with her master.

But the examination proceeded exactly as predicted and was wholly tilting in Sion’s
favor.

Unless she deliberately slowed down, there would be no surprises.

She had no intention of waiting around to welcome the challengers warmly. A twist
obtained through a lackluster performance had no meaning for her.

Without any delay, Sion immediately proceeded towards the entrance to Route A.

***

Lilith was well aware of how to dominate in relationships.

If you didn’t want anything from someone else, that was all that mattered. Keeping to
this rule, one would never be at a disadvantage, and if you discovered the other
person’s desires, the relationship’s dynamic would be clearly defined.

This law applied to all kinds of relationships, not just romantic ones.
Many noble heirs clung to Lilith because they wanted something from her.

They coveted Lilith’s beauty, but thanks to an abundance of attention, she never had
a need to cling to one man. Knowing perfectly well what they desired, Lilith
dominated the relationship.

However, being privy to that principle didn’t mean she could have things her way in
every situation.

Lilith was completely at a disadvantage with the man in the mask.

She was heavily dependent on the man for almost everything.

While Lilith had many desires, he seemed to have none at all.

He led the way, and whenever a Plantara appeared, he would casually dispatch it
with a few deft moves.

She had nothing to do.

He had retrieved the Wand for her, yet ironically, he was also the one who rendered
her make the Wand useless.

Considering his contribution, he could have demanded a great reward from Lilith,
and she was prepared to compensate him generously.

But he asked for nothing.

“Ah!”

Lilith stumbled over a tree root and fell.

The man glanced back at her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to her feet.

Silently, he brushed the dirt off her clothes and moved forward again.

“…”

His casual care, reminiscent of a big brother tending to a young sister—indifferent

yet occasionally attentive—exasperated Lilith.
‘Ha. You do care about me after all, you jerk. But we’re not companions? We are
companions… we are!’

“Hey!”

The words rose to her throat, but she forcefully held them back.

“Let’s go together…”

They had left the cave early in the dawn and arrived at the second waypoint before
noon.

Unlike the first, this place featured only a solitary two-story log cabin made of round
logs.

After looking around the waypoint, Lilith spoke up.

“Is there no one else here? Are we the first to arrive?”

Such an occurrence was beyond her imagination when they first commenced the
entrance exam. To be ahead of Gale, Luna, and Cecil.

It was finally confirmed that following the man in the mask had been the correct
decision.

From here, taking either Route A or B, they could finish the exam before sunset; even
if they didn’t, they were well within the safe zone for passing.

Of course, for Lilith to take either Route A or B was impossible.

As one closes in on the peak of Mount Grace, the mana emanating from the ground
intensifies, significantly boosting the combat abilities of the Plantaras.

On those routes, aggression peaks, with Plantaras attacking from every direction,
leaving no room to breathe.

Arriving at the waypoint, there was only one question rising in Lilith’s mind.

‘Will this man choose Route A or B?’

The man stood at the open door of the cabin, quietly looking down at the ground.
Lilith approached the cabin, sensing something amiss.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

She followed the man’s gaze down.

Footprints were imprinted in the mud, not yet dried.

From the size and shape of the shoes, they were clearly those of a woman.

“We aren’t the first ones here…”

A figure came to Lilith’s mind, and it seemed he was thinking along the same lines.

There was only one person who could have outpaced everyone else.

“It’s Sion… isn’t it?”

The man didn’t enter the cabin but stood in place and then took a bottle out of his
bag.

Lilith wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

She did remember, however, that every time there was a sign of impending battle,
the man would take very small sips from it. And after doing so, his eyes would glow
faintly.

He lifted his mask slightly and pressed the bottle to his lips.

One sip, two sips, three.

Lilith’s pupils expanded as she watched.

He finished off the entire potion.

It was a sight she hadn’t seen during their entire journey together.

It signified that he was preparing for a major battle.

‘So he is leaving.’

Was it now time for them to go their separate ways?

Even though she somewhat anticipated this, facing the reality caused her heart to
sink oddly.

If Lilith were to insist on following any further, she would undoubtedly become a
burden.

It was only now she realized.

Lilith was never meant to be a companion.

His attitude was now somewhat understandable. At the most critical moment, Lilith
would be of little help.

The thought of him leaving without any goodbye made her feel hollow and drained.

“…I’m tired. I’ll rest in the cabin.”

Lilith entered the cabin first. She picked up a few logs stacked against a wall and
threw them into the fireplace to start a fire. Then, she laid down on a long wooden
bench.

If she closed her eyes there and then opened them, she was sure the man would be
gone.

She should not feel regretful. It was a relationship destined to end this way from the
start.

***

Due to the lingering dampness from the rain the night before, the dirt roads around
the cabin were all muddy and slushy.

I could find a single footprint there.

Following it quietly, the track led toward Route A.

Ever since the entrance exam started, there had been no word of Sion.

I was curious where she had vanished to, and here we crossed paths merely through
these tracks.

The footprints belonged to just one individual, indicating she had come alone.

Her abilities were as terrifying as the rumors suggested.

It was now time for me to put forth my full strength.

But whether I had enough energy left for the final challenge, I couldn’t be certain.

I returned to the cabin.

I threw some logs into the dying embers of the fireplace and checked on Lilith.

She was curled up on the bench, sleeping fitfully. Seen like this, she was just a small,
young girl.

I walked over to Lilith. Then, I straightened her tightly clenched fingers and placed
three pieces of candy in her hand.

She hadn’t been much help, but her company had kept the boredom at bay.

She should be able to fend for herself now that we had come this far.

Stepping out of the cabin, I unfolded my map. I couldn’t merely chase after Silveryn’s
selected rival.

I checked the direction to Route B and began walking. As I left the waypoint to enter
the path for Route B, someone yelled from behind me.

“Wait a minute!”

Turning around, I saw Lilith standing where the voice had come from.

She seemed furious, her eyes narrowed, stomping towards me with determination.

“I knew it.”
“…”

“You were going to sneak away while I slept? How could you do something like that?”

Lilith reached me and abruptly seized my wrist.

Then she placed a potion in my hand.

“This is the special vitality potion from the Umer family I’d been saving for myself.
Drink it when you feel tired. I won’t be needing it anymore.”

“……”

Was this why she had followed me?

I tucked the potion into my inner pocket.

Yet despite the goodwill behind the gift, Lilith’s gaze was anything but kind.

Her eyes were filled with anger and resentment.

It looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I had no intention of
responding.

Silently, I turned my back on her and continued on my way.

Thanks to the lingering effects of the griffon potion which heightened my senses, I
could overhear Lilith muttering to herself.

“…Jerk.”

***

A massive explosion reverberated through the mountain range.

“Sister!”

Trisha startled, dashing to hide behind Cecil.

Cecil looked up toward the origin of the noise. It came from somewhere near the
summit of Mount Grace.

Excluding Trisha, the rest of the teammates, sensing the abnormality, were all
looking up toward the mountain’s upper reaches.

Cecil pulled out her telescope and focused on the upper parts of Mount Grace. Blue
lights flickered on and off a few times through the trees.

She hastily grabbed a map and compared the location with the lights.

“It seems to be Route A…”

Bertang, Cecil’s cousin and colleague, said as if in shock.

“No way. This fast?”

“I’m sure of it. With that speed, there’s no one else it could be but Sion.”

“Ha, hahaha, just like the rumors said, she’s ferociously fast.”

Kwaang!

Another explosion rang out.

“Huh? The explosions are coming from somewhere else?”

“Over there, look there!”

Another teammate pointed to another location.

Not far from where the blue lights were, bursts of white light flashed intermittently
like lightning strikes.

Cecil checked the map and spoke.

“What’s that? That’s the direction of Route B. There’s someone else?”

“What? Who else could be moving that fast other than Sion?”

The white light was surging with formidable speed toward the mountain summit.
Climbing Route B at such a speed? From the intensity of the emerging lights and the
sound of explosions, it was clear this was no ordinary individual.

Even more, by the fervor of their advance, they seemed likely to reach the top faster
than Sion.

Bertang watched the spectacle, muttering to himself.

“What in the world is happening?”

The mana bursting forth from Mount Grace grew increasingly fierce, signaling their
approach to the summit.

Sion’s magic sword was also influenced by the mountain’s mana, its blue
luminescence growing ever more intense.

Plantaras, disregarding their own safety, threw themselves at her ferociously, like
wild beasts.

Each time she swung her sword, groups of Plantaras were chopped down, five or six
at a time.

Something caught Sion’s ankle.

It was a Plantara, its lower half severed, gripping her leg to the very end.

These creatures were like wasps stinging in a frenzy after a trespasser disturbed
their nest.

She immediately cut the hand of the Plantara off with her sword and kept running.

The higher she climbed, the thinner the foliage became until only rocks and gravel
lay beneath her feet.

Soon, she could see skies unhindered by branches and leaves.

She finally reached the summit ridge, formed of large boulders.

Sion shielded her eyes momentarily from the sudden burst of blinding sunlight.

When her vision adapted, the first thing to enter her sight was a magical stone slab,
about a hundred paces away.
While she was sheathing her sword to catch her breath, she heard the crunch of
gravel nearby.

Turning to look, she saw a man whose identity was obscure.

Sion’s pupils dilated.

She should have been alone at the summit—she was certain of her lead and had
widened a considerable gap from any pursuers.

Yet, shattering Sion’s belief, there was the unidentified man standing nonchalantly
before her as though he had just fallen from the sky.

And just like her, he had not brought any companions.

Sion instinctively knew that this person was not of the same ilk as those floundering
below—he was of a different sort, akin to herself.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Only when Sion spoke did he turn to face her.

His hair was auburn, and he wore a mask while holding a wooden sword in one
hand.

Whether he had experienced a fierce battle on his climb or not, blood dripped down
to the tip of the wooden sword from his shoulder.

“…”

Sion remembered him.

He was the man she had briefly encountered at the forge in Filin.

She had overheard a rumor about a letter of recommendation and had been
observing him. Letters of recommendation usually implied notable renown within
the region, and yet, there were no whispers surrounding this man. She had
preemptively judged that no matter how skilled he may be, he would stand below
Victor or Gale.
But her speculation was utterly off the mark.

This man was the unforeseen dark horse of this exam.

The man’s eyes glowed unnaturally strong, probably an effect of some potion or
magic.

A wooden sword, a mask, eyes ablaze—it was a collection of unknowns.

Nevertheless, his combat ability seemed to fall short of Sion’s.

Sion, having reached the summit without shedding a drop of blood, watched as the
masked man gestured for her to pass by first. Draped in blood yet his demeanor was
strangely at ease, almost gentlemanly.

A chuckle escaped her at that.

If it were any oblivious candidate, they would have rushed towards the slab without
a second thought.

But the fact that he stood still meant he most likely knew.

Knew what awaited them here.

“You really are a cunning one, aren’t you?”

A ludicrous thought even crossed her mind—could he have cheated other candidates
to make his way to the top?

Though he seemed like a trickster, that couldn’t be all there was to him. No matter
how cunning, without genuine skill, it’s impossible to come this far on your own.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m well aware, too.”

No shallow tricks will work here.

Sion picked up a stone the size of a fist and hurled it. It flew across the expanse,
landing about midway between her and the stone slab.

In response, the ground trembled and began to swell upwards where the stone
struck.

Soon, a golem the size of a house emerged.

The final barrier was still ahead. This test was designed to filter out those who had
relied on sheer luck or deception to ascend, selecting only the true masters of their
craft.

Without destroying the golem, the magic stone slab remains inert.

Kroooom-

The golem let out a droning roar that made the gravel tremble, then stood
imposingly across the slab, glaring menacingly at the challenger. Its fists seemed so
massive that a single blow would surely pulverize anyone to mush.

Sion unsheathed her magic sword and said to the man.

“You suggested I go first, right? Fine, I’ll oblige you this once.”

This could very well be her last competition within Eternia. Might as well entertain
the notion.

As Sion took a few steps forward, the golem’s gaze fixed on her.

Mana began to frost over the artifacts latched onto her boots.

Once ready, she propelled herself in a dash.

She surged towards the golem at a speed three times that of an ordinary human.

The golem immediately swings its arm down at Sion.

Kwaang!

The impact was so mighty it seemed the ground could crumble away completely.

Sion deftly sidestepped and leaped onto the golem’s arm.

She ascended along its arm as if crossing stepping stones and reached the shoulder,
swinging her sword at it fiercely.

The entire sequence happened in a flash.

Whoosh!

The blue blade swept through the golem. The magic sword sliced off a third of the
giant, rocky shoulder.

Another swing and the remaining half tumbled away, and with a final stroke as she
fell, channeling her weight into it, she bisected the golem’s left shoulder completely.

Krooooom!

The golem, seemingly startled, began to flail its remaining limbs in a frenzy.

With each swing, a thunderous crash followed, as dust and fragments of rock
scattered all around.

Sion, maintaining her composure amidst the onslaught, evaded the golem’s attacks
and swiftly moved out of its striking range.

Having returned to her original position, Sion caught her breath and then addressed
the man.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

“…”

The man, after a brief observation of Sion’s sword, contemplatively gazed at his own
wooden sword as if making comparisons.

Then, he tucked the wooden sword into his belt.

And then he stretched out an empty hand into the air.

Sion, watching with a questioning gaze, saw her eyes widen.

Accompanied by an overwhelming magical pressure, a shining sword materialized in

the man’s hand.
‘A magic sword?’

It was extremely rare for someone young to own and wield a magic sword.

Even more astonishing, though it was a magic sword like her own, the magical
pressure it emitted was incomparably greater than that of her magic sword. It was so
powerful that ordinary people might lose consciousness just from coming into
contact with it.

‘What is that?’

The material of the sword was also remarkably odd. No matter how special a magic
sword might be, they didn’t normally materialize out of thin air; they were drawn
from a scabbard. In all her travels across the continent, Sion had never encountered
a sword like this.

With a grand sweep, the man cut through the air. A blinding light flashed, and
immediately, a pure white arc of light soared towards the golem’s right shoulder.

Kwaang!

The strike caused a monstrous explosion and blew the golem’s right arm clean off.

It was a power that could leave one dumbstruck.

After assessing the damage to the golem, the man let the sword disappear.

Sion, witnessing this, asked:

“What’s your name?”

“…”

“Can’t you speak?”

The man nodded his head.

Sion crossed her arms in apparent dissatisfaction and narrowed her eyes.

Following a silent standoff where they simply glared at one another, she declared:
“…Then I won’t speak either.”

And amidst them, silence reigned.

Finally losing her patience, Sion attempted to communicate through gestures.

She pointed at the man and then towards the golem.

‘You go first.’

He shook his head.

Once Sion saw the man’s refusal, she promptly drew her magic sword.

Since he had rejected the chance she offered, she could now destroy the golem and
be the first to imprint on the stone slab with no grounds for complaint.

Kroooom-

The golem roared, gathering its power.

Rocks nearby clung to the golem like a magnet, and soon the damaged arm was
restored.

The golem had the capacity for infinite regeneration as long as its core was intact. It
was fruitless to chip away at it bit by bit.

A decisive, powerful blow was needed.

Sion lunged towards the golem once more.

The now fully aggressive golem lifted both of its arms and aimed an even sturdier
and faster strike towards Sion.

Kwaang!

Sion dodged to the left just as before. But, this time, the golem swept its arm to the
side with a broom-like motion, capitalizing on the brief halt caused by her sharp
change in direction.
Sion raised her sword as if it were a shield, blocking the strike, but the force sent her
flying.

Tumbling to the ground, she rose swiftly, without a moment’s hesitation.

Rushing towards the golem yet again, she now baited and sidestepped its attacks,
circling wide. When the golem swung wide, missing her, Sion closed in on its body in
the opening that followed.

She swung her magic sword mightily at the core concealed within the golem’s torso.

The afterglow of the blue sword left a lengthy gash in the golem’s body.

However, because the torso was gargantuan, the gash fell short of reaching the core.

An immediate counterattack followed. The golem could twist and weave its rock-
formed arms at will, as every stone served as a joint.

It prohibited Sion from staying close to the core, launching relentless attacks to
prevent her from concentrating on slicing open its core.

Rock splinters scattered in all directions.

Sion struck the torso with all her power multiple times, but the deep gouges left only
scars without dealing significant damage.

After several failed attempts, the golem finally landed a direct hit on Sion with its fist.

She was sent flying high and once again crashed heavily to the ground.

Coughing up blood, Sion grumbled to herself.

“That hurts.”

Having properly faced the golem, it was clear to her. This was not a battle meant for
one to fight alone.

As she tried to stand, a sharp pain assaulted her ankle.

“Argh!”
Seems it had twisted badly upon her fall, as the swelling made it difficult to walk.

Moreover, the golem’s onslaught was not yet finished.

It grabbed a rock and hurled it forcefully, aiming directly at Sion.

Realizing she couldn’t dodge, Sion barely propped herself up, positioning her sword
as a shield in preparation for the impact.

There appeared to be no other option but to slash through it.

The rock surged straight toward her and, as it neared collision, a brilliant blade slash
from the side shattered the rock entirely.

“…!”

Sion turned her head.

There stood the masked man, wielding his magic sword.

Sion bit her lip. She had wanted to avoid accepting help at all costs.

The man gave Sion a brief look, then stepped forward towards the golem.

It was as if he was indicating that now it was his turn.

As the man stepped forward, the golem’s gaze focused intently on him.

The flow of magical power around the golem became sharper, more ferocious.

For some reason, it seemed to be more wary of the man with the mask than of Sion.

Launching a preemptive attack, the golem started to indiscriminately hurl rocks.

Dodging the boulders, which came at him two at a time every second, the man
seemed to deflect them effortlessly.

Despite the varying sizes, speeds, and angles of the incoming projectiles, he didn’t
miss a beat.

While his agility may have been several notches below Sion’s, he showed no sign of
deficiency. His movements were extremely concise and efficient.

Seizing a momentary gap, he quickly unleashed a blade of light that severed the
golem’s left shoulder.

Kwaang!

The golem’s body tilted from the recoil.

The barrage of stones subsided, thanks to an arm being blown away, and swiftly,
another blade of light destroyed the right shoulder.

With both arms of the golem collapsing to the ground and the uncontrolled rocks
rolling away, the man quickly closed in on the now defenseless creature.

‘What’s his plan?’

Destroying its arms would only buy a short time.

Maintaining a magic sword consumes an enormous amount of energy. Hence, it was
only logical to target the core rather than attack other parts.

Just as Sion suspected, the golem began to regenerate its arms again.

Rocks that had been scattered were now being drawn back to the golem.

The recovery was noticeably quicker, and in less than ten seconds, the previously
destroyed left arm took shape again.

Taking advantage of the lull, the man rushed towards the torso and threw a bright
blue orb into the thick gash left by Sion.

He then leaped off the golem’s body, striking its newly reformed left shoulder with
his sword.

The man’s blade sliced through the solid rock as if it were cutting through cake.

“…!”

It was an area that required Sion to make three cuts to sever. Although she had not
maximized Silveryn’s performance yet, even considering that, the man’s magic sword
was overwhelmingly powerful.

The way he wielded the sword was more reminiscent of a wild beast than a
swordsman trained over many years.

This made determining his identity even more challenging; his swordsmanship
lacked any identifiable traits, making him seem quite literally like a person who had
fallen out of the sky.

Meanwhile, the golem’s right arm finished regenerating. The speed now felt almost
pointless to bother destroying, as the golem’s attacks intensified in its desperation to
protect the core.

Every time the golem’s hand struck the ground, fissures appeared, and dust from the
shattered rock scattered.

The intensity of the fight led Sion to wonder if the very summit of Mount Grace might
crumble from their battle.
In a swift move, the man evaded another attack and flung another blue orb deep into
the golem’s body.

‘What is he putting in there?’

Time was against the slightly less agile man, and as it progressed, he also began to
struggle.

But even amidst the adversity, he managed to embed two more orbs.

Having reached his limit, the man got hit directly by one of the golem’s freely flailing
limbs and was sent flying.

Sion frowned. As she had experienced a single hit, she knew the impact alone was
enough to severely impede movement, making the fight all the more strenuous.

He rolled on the ground about fifty paces away before slowly making an effort to
stand.

Taking some time to catch his breath while lying down, the man rose leisurely.

From a distance, he then took out a bottle – a potion.

Sion recognized what the potion was.

‘A vitality potion…?’

The golem, now frenzied, began to close in on the man swiftly.

In a situation that seemed to call for escaping, the man paid it no heed and gulped
down the potion vigorously.

Then, he stood still, watching the golem intently.

Sion couldn’t understand what he was waiting for.

‘What is he waiting for?’

Amidst the golem’s nearing, a blue light burst out of its torso with an explosive noise,
making the massive body wobble.
This initiated a chain of explosions from within the torso.

The golem contorted, cracked, and fissures spread across its frame.

Frost spread rapidly from the torso to the shoulders and legs, congealing into solid
ice.

Sion’s eyes grew wider as she observed the phenomenon.

‘A magic bomb?’

Finally, the golem was completely frozen.

Having emptied the potion, the man nonchalantly tossed the empty bottle aside and
admired the statue-like frozen golem as though it were a masterpiece sculpted by a
grandmaster.

He then swung his sword mightily, releasing another sword blast.

Kwaang!

This strike shattered half of the frozen golem’s upper body.

A subsequent blast of light reduced the remaining torso to rubble.

Kugugugugu-

With the torso gone, the rest of the structure slackened and crumbled to the ground.

In the now empty space where the torso had been, a bright red crystal floated – the
core of the golem.

The final sword blast struck precisely, shattering the crystal into dust, which
scattered into the wind.

After a brief silence, the magic stone slab that lay at a distance began to resonate
with power and emitted a blue light.

Kugugugugu.
Around the magic stone slab, a magical circle unfolded, and the chaos surrounding
the area began to reorder.

The strewn rocks noisily moved, smoothing the ground neatly.

It seemed to confirm that the last gateway had finally concluded.

Contrary to her expectations, the man had indeed defeated the golem on his own.

Only then did Sion realize that she had lost the wager with her master.

All because of this unexpected man who had suddenly appeared.

The confusion overshadowed the feeling of defeat.

Had her master anticipated the arrival of this bizarre character and placed a bet
knowing this?

The man dissipated his magic sword and approached Sion.

As he squatted in front of her and reached for her swollen ankle, she quickly brushed
his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Unperturbed, he took out another potion from his cloak and poured it over Sion’s
ankle.

“What are you doing…!”

The acute pain that hinted at a bone fracture began fading almost instantly.

Speechless for a moment, Sion was baffled by the assortment of inexplicable items
the man carried.

As she tried to stand up on her own, the man offered his support.

Sion spoke in a cold tone.

“Why are you meddling unnecessarily?”

Once again, there was no response.

Despite her words, having received his aid several times had somewhat relaxed
Sion’s guard.

The man helped her up and slowly led her towards the magic stone slab.

When they reached the slab, Sion shook off the man’s support and stood on her own.

The first to place their hand on the slab would claim the rank of overall champion.
While others would have scrambled for this opportunity, the man merely gazed at
Sion, seemingly wanting to say something.

“What are you waiting for? Why aren’t you placing your hand on it?” Sion asked after
observing his hesitation.

“You want to do it together, or what?”

He nodded in affirmation.

“You really are a strange one, aren’t you?”

Was it because they fought together that he wanted to imprint together?

Sion no longer desired the top rank, as she already felt bested.

She stared intently into the man’s eyes. Perhaps he had his own motivations for this
gesture?

Sion had acted entirely alone and thus had no room for earning extra points.
Although she wasn’t fully aware of how Eternia’s scoring system worked, if the man
could indeed gain additional points for collaboration, then both imprinting their
hands would still make him the top student.

Even if things went wrong, she’d at least be the co-valedictorian, not losing her
position entirely.

Sion sighed.

It was a bitter feeling. This was her first defeat against someone of her age, and to
make matters worse, she had lost the wager, which meant she was now bound to
Eternia for four years.

In the current situation, she didn’t want to overthink things.

“Ah, forget it. Just do it.”

Both extended their palms and brought them close to the stone slab.

Together, they imprinted their hands onto the slab.

Sion deliberately placed her hand a moment later than the man.

As they withdrew their hands, the bright blue handprint faded from the slab.

“It’s over.”

Their entrance exam was now complete, and only the descent remained.

A gentle breeze tousled Sion’s long hair. She paused to take in the view from the
summit. Not far off, a stream cut through the mountains, and five Eternian galleons
awaited below.

Those who had finished the exam could board the ships and descend downstream
without having to retrace their steps back.

Sion turned to the man and said,

“You…”

The man stretched languidly and casually turned in the direction of the descent.

As he was about to start walking, Sion grabbed his sleeve and said,

“Tell me your name.”

“…”

The man ignored her, but Sion persisted.

“Your name.”

He shook his head.

“I won’t let you go until you tell me.”

“…”

“I get that you have your reasons, but everyone will know your name at the
matriculation ceremony. I can keep a secret, so just tell me.”

He silently pried Sion’s fingers off and walked away again.

Sion lurched after him, gripping his clothing so tightly it nearly ripped.

“Your name.”

When Sion’s resolve did not waver, the man’s eyes showed a slight tremble.

“…”

Attempting to free himself from her grasp but unable to, the man, seeming resigned,
drew out his wooden sword. He then began scratching characters onto a rock.

Sion read the name etched into the rock with an incredulous expression.

“…Candy?”

The man nodded.

Sion glared at him and said,

“That’s not your real name.”

Seeing no indication that he would share, Sion sighed deeply, her frustration evident.

“Forget it, no need, just go.”

She finally released his garment.

They were bound to meet again, being in the same combat division, and would have
to cross swords once more.

“…But next time we meet, we are having a match.”

***

I had to return to the base.

It wasn’t truly over, and though exhausted and longing to go home, I couldn’t.

Removing the mask and returning from being nameless to Damian, I was to fill the
seven days completely and conclude the examination.

Since my name had been made known as a disciple of Silveryn, I needed to be seen
enough to avoid unnecessary suspicion.

After filling the time, on the seventh day, I descended and boarded the boat returning
to Eternia.

Everyone aboard with me were among the last to arrive or had not managed to
arrive at all, landing them in the lowest ranks, their expressions grim.

Among them were the knight and mage who had picked a fight with Cecil while I was
with them. Without my mask, they failed to recognize me.

The trip downstream to Eternia took less than half a day.

At the wharf near Eternia, a carriage sent in advance by Silveryn was waiting to
welcome me.

Thus, I journeyed to Silveryn’s manor by carriage.

The sun had begun to set by the time I completed everything and arrived at the
manor.

It had only been a week, but it felt like months had passed.

I disembarked from the carriage at the city gates and walked towards the central
courtyard.
For some reason, the maids were all out in the courtyard, tending to the floral bushes
and weeding.

I must have entered too quietly, as they didn’t seem to notice me.

While surreptitiously observing the surroundings, my eyes met with Silveryn, who
was sitting on a wooden bench, legs crossed and chin propped up on her hands.

Her eyes widened as she saw me.

She leaped up and approached me.

Without traditional greetings, she grabbed my wrist abruptly and said,

“Come with me.”

Silveryn dragged me across the courtyard to some undisclosed location.

“Master…?”

“It’s urgent.”

Liria spotted me and stopped her sweeping, beaming brightly and waving at me
cheerily.

While being pulled away, I returned Liria’s greeting.

Silveryn led me past the corner of the main building’s exterior, away from the maids’
prying eyes to a secluded, shadowy area.

The grip on my wrist by Silveryn was determined and strong.

From her tone and expression, it appeared to be a matter of grave urgency.

She cornered me against the wall and said,

“Spit it out.”

“…Yes?”
“You… Didn’t want to see your teacher?”

In a state of bewilderment, I blinked several times before stating,

“Well, of course I wanted to…”

Silveryn cut me off by pulling me into a tight embrace.

Using her weight to press me against the wall, she said,

“Me too.”