"It seems we'll be working together again after so long, little one. I'll be counting on you," said Nerov with a confident smile.
"I-It's... a pleasure..." Elsya replied, her expression caught somewhere between unease and worry.
The scene was almost comical. The reunion between the princess and her former bodyguard only reminded me of the streak of bad luck that seemed to cling to that girl. Despite her royal blood, Elsya was the youngest of her lineage, and therefore the one with the least influence among her siblings. To make matters worse, she had been born in the kingdom's darkest era: when the war against the Empire was tearing the land apart. As if that weren't enough, she seemed to have a natural magnet for trouble... and Nerov was one of those troubles. With his carefree nature, he was probably the last person anyone would have chosen as a princess's protector. And yet, he had been assigned that role long before I ever arrived. Not to mention, now Elsya had to accompany us on this suicide mission.
Two days had already passed since we were entrusted with the task, and preparations were nearly complete. The servants were loading the carriage with provisions while I mentally went over the essentials to make sure nothing was missing.
"Are you sure that will be enough?" asked a firm voice at my side.
It was Anis Synthia Modula—tall, straight-backed, and with an unyielding gaze. A member of the Gradient Knights, not only was she a squad captain, but also a paladin, much like Cedrek and myself. She had joined the mission without any clear explanation given; perhaps simply because, at that moment, she was the most qualified to lead such an unusual group as ours. Though no one had said it outright, we all knew she would play the role of leader in this mission.
"Yes. More armor would only slow my movements and put unnecessary strain on the mounts. This way, I'm more versatile for any situation," I replied.
With time, I had realized it wasn't necessary to always carry the full set of my character's armor. At first, I wore it all, but it was heavy, uncomfortable, and a burden in rough terrain. Considering my superhuman strength, it was rare that anything could wound me seriously. That's why now I only wore the chestplate, gloves, and boots, along with my main weapon. The helmet, pauldrons, and greaves rested in the royal vault, together with other items from the game that had arrived with me in this world. A place inaccessible without the king's direct permission.
For this mission, I had decided to bring three potions:
one for healing,
another against debilitation,
and one for night vision.
The king had also provided us with local supplies and potions, but those from this world were far inferior in effectiveness compared to the ones I had brought from the game. That's why I chose to use mine—though sparingly.
I still had two healing potions left and four with other effects, but I couldn't afford to waste them. The items I had brought were scarce, finite, and impossible to replicate.
Compared to the mountain of items I had amassed in the game, what I had here was a pitiful handful. I never understood why only part of my inventory had crossed over with me into this world... though, of course, there was no logic in the fact that I had ended up here in the first place.
"I don't doubt your judgment, Sir Kiyoshi," Anis said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "But remember to treat this mission with absolute seriousness. Human lives depend on us."
"I'm aware. By accepting this mission, I committed myself to see it through to the end. Besides..."
"Besides?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's nothing. Just that it's been a while since I've gone on such an... important mission."
Anis placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Don't be nervous. Your skills rival Cedrek's. And the Marquis wouldn't have sent us unless he had a reason in mind. If you follow my orders, we'll manage without complications. Just make sure you don't hesitate when I give you an instruction. That's all I expect from you."
I had tried to express something personal, but Anis mistook it for insecurity and tried to encourage me. It wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, but I appreciated the gesture. She was probably filled with her own doubts about this insane mission as well, but she did her best to appear resolute, to calm the rest of us.
I nodded silently.
"Yes. I'll do my best. Thank you."
Despite her firm demeanor, she seemed like an interesting person—someone who might make this journey enjoyable. I had also heard that she was one of the youngest ever to become a captain among the Gradient Knights. She was probably around the same age as I had been in my original world.
That thought stirred an odd discomfort. How old did I even appear to be in this body? If this was the body of my game character, one modeled after me yet taller and without facial hair, I had no idea what age people perceived me to be, since I hadn't lived much time in it.
The root of my unease was the shame I would feel if Anis thought I was older than her. Would she really try to reassure an older man before a mission? That would be embarrassing.
"What are you doing, Kiyoshi? We're ready," Elsya's voice suddenly snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Coming," I answered with a slight start, straightening in my seat.
The carriage began to move, creaking against the cobblestones of the castle's inner courtyard. As the horses' hooves set the rhythm of our departure, two figures watched from the heights of one of the towers: the king and the marquis.
"Are you sure about letting him go?" asked Marquis Gram, arms crossed behind his back. "From my perspective, it would have been better to have his help with that other problem."
"Forget it, Gram. I've already taken advantage of his goodwill enough." The king sighed, his gaze fixed on the departing carriage. "Besides, the success of that mission is only possible with Kiyoshi's presence. If we had sent anyone else, it would have been the same as ignoring the cries for help from those villagers."
"You're right, Your Majesty. But... the cries of a few villagers pale in comparison to the number who will suffer if the kingdom loses the war. Don't you agree?"
"I know." The king pressed his lips together, his expression weary. "But I'm not so ungrateful as to drag him to the front lines knowing he doesn't want to stain his hands with blood. Bathing in blood is the king's duty... and that of his men."
The king's eyes softened, almost melancholic. "Perhaps it's just my selfish wish that, if everything goes wrong, at least he'll show mercy to Elsya... and flee the country with her. The least I can do is not burden my karma by using him as a pawn."
The marquis fell silent at those words. The king turned his eyes back to the window, following the carriage as it slowly disappeared over the horizon.
"I'll be praying for their journey... Kiyoshi, Elsya," he whispered, in a tone so faint it was more like a prayer meant only for the castle stones to hear.
A fair amount of time had passed since our departure. Normally, a carriage transporting a princess would be accompanied by guards, at least one maid, and a royal spokesperson. But Elsya was no ordinary princess: her personality and the string of bad experiences with every attendant assigned to her had earned her a degree of freedom. Her journeys usually came down to just her, myself, and occasionally a rider to handle the horses.
This time, however, things were different. Four of us shared the same cramped space: too small for so many tensions, too quiet for so many worries. Elsya kept her gaze fixed on the floor, as though brooding over something she refused to share. Anis, rigid and stern, seemed lost in her own thoughts, her severe expression enough to unsettle anyone. And Nerov, driving at the front, would occasionally cast fleeting glances at the pouch of gold coins we'd been given as our mission budget.
The carriage, while not small, offered little privacy—our eyes met more often than any of us liked. The atmosphere was heavy, thick with uncertainty. Out of everyone, only Elsya and I seemed to have enough mutual trust to attempt light conversation. Yet even she said nothing.
The steady sway of the carriage and the clopping of hooves on the stone road filled the silence. The creak of wood and the occasional squeal of the wheels reminded us the journey had only just begun. Finally, Nerov broke the quiet with his usual carefree tone:
"Ah, this is nostalgic," he murmured, holding the reins with one hand. "Reminds me of the days I used to drive 'Her Highness' around. Of course, back then she was a lot more timid."
Elsya lifted her eyes, frowning.
"Anyone would've been nervous with someone like you as their bodyguard," she shot back bluntly.
"Oh, come now, Princess." Nerov grinned, amused. "Why don't you tell us a story like in the old days? One of those legends you used to share to pass the time... remember? There was one about a desert."
Elsya's eyes lit up, as if a spark had been ignited.
"The Poisonous Desert of Semaris?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer, launched into her tale. "They say that's where the hero Grutus fell, after slaying the serpent god that dwelled in those sands. Before it died, the creature cursed the land, and ever since then each grain glitters under the moon as if laced with venom. Some say if you hold the sand in your hands, you'll hear the echo of its screams... others claim that by drinking water with just a single grain, you can glimpse visions of another world before your body turns completely rigid, and—"
Her words flowed without pause, painting vivid images in the air. There was something about her voice, a natural enthusiasm, that transformed the tale into an unexpected balm. Little by little, the tension inside the carriage began to ease.
Nerov smiled with satisfaction; he had known exactly how to coax the princess into speaking. For me, her voice became a background murmur, like the radio that had once kept me company during long nights of study in my former world.
"Focus on the road, Nerov," Anis cut in sharply, her voice like a blade.
"Relax, Captain. I know these routes like the back of my hand. Besides—" He flicked the reins with almost arrogant ease, smirking. "Aren't we on vacation, after all?"
"Vacation? What in the hell do you think you're here for?" Anis snapped, her tone louder than expected.
Nerov shrank slightly in his seat, startled by her outburst. Her unyielding gaze pinned him for a moment, as if weighing whether he deserved harsher reprimand. Finally, she let out a short sigh and leaned back in her seat, silent again.
The air inside the carriage grew even heavier. The rattle of the wheels over stone and the steady rhythm of hooves were once more the only sounds accompanying us. I used the silence to mentally review the route, the obstacles we might face, and possible strategies. But soon, my focus drifted to something else: the group itself.
A stern captain clinging to duty, a bodyguard carefree to the point of absurdity, a princess cursed by bad luck... and me, a stranger from another world trapped in the body of a video game character. An odd, mismatched combination, almost like—
"Sir Kiyoshi." Anis's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Yes?"
"I want your assessment. What do you think of this mission?"
I hadn't expected the question, least of all from her at that moment. Most likely, Anis was reaching her limit. She was trying to maintain the flawless image of a captain, but the truth was this mission was absurd. On the battlefield she could rely on protocols, strategies, and a clear chain of command. Here, however, she was leading an irregular operation against orcs—creatures outside her area of expertise—with a group so small it didn't even amount to ten percent of the manpower required for a proper expedition. It was no surprise that her façade of confidence was starting to crack.
"Well... to start, I thought this mission was insane from the very beginning. No doubt about that."
"I see. You too." Anis allowed a bitter smile. "The normal thing would've been to refuse. In fact, I considered it the moment I heard the marquis's reckless idea: sending only three people to wipe out a horde of orcs. But if I refused, this mission would likely never have happened, and the villagers' cries for help would've gone unanswered. I couldn't abandon them."
"That's very noble of you. And I think you made the right decision. Most likely those villages would have been ignored, considering that all resources are focused on the war against the Empire. Still, this mission isn't as grim as it seems."
She narrowed her eyes.
"So you mean to say you believe we'll do well in this... orc hunt?"
"I can't say for certain what the future holds," I answered honestly. "But you shouldn't worry so much about our numbers."
"Oh, really? And you think you and I alone can handle all those orcs?"
It wasn't my style to boast or show excessive confidence, but in that moment I realized humility would only add to the pressure she was already feeling. So, with a slight smile, I replied:
"That's right. I believe the only reason the marquis entrusted us with this mission is because he has faith in my strength."
"Hooh..." Anis raised a brow, but this time her smile held a trace of complicity. "Then I'll hold you to that. I'll be expecting much from you, Kiyoshi. Don't let me down."
"Hehe... thank you." I drew a deep breath before continuing. "But don't underestimate the orcs. The real problem lies in their magic—abyssal magic. It can be quite troublesome, and their tricks won't likely break with brute force alone. That's why recruiting a good mage is so important."
"You're right." Anis nodded firmly. "Well, that won't be a problem. After all, who would've thought that miserly marquis would convince the king to part with such a sum? Two thousand gold coins for this mission..."
"Yes, though technically we only have five hundred set aside for hiring a mage. The rest is for our individual payments. But don't worry, Anis. If necessary, we can use my share of the reward to hire extra adventurers or mercenaries."
She let out a sigh that sounded more like relief than fatigue.
"We're of the same mind, Sir Kiyoshi. I don't mind sacrificing my share either if it means we gather more strength. Honestly, I think that sly marquis already expected us to do this from the start. That's why he handed us control over our own pay. Nobles like him have a real talent for squeezing their workers dry."
"Haha. True." I let out a light chuckle at Anis's comment.
Both of us turned our eyes toward Nerov.
"Just so you know... I'm not giving up a single coin," he said without looking away from the road. "Those five hundred are mine. And don't forget, they aren't ordinary coins—they bear the royal seal."
The royal seal on the coins meant they came directly from the king's vault. Whoever carried them could, in a sense, flaunt a connection to royalty. In practice, they were worth the same as any gold coin, but among certain nobles they could fetch a higher price. Another detail in the endless game of prestige and appearances in this kingdom.
And just as I was thinking about that, Elsya's excited voice broke into the conversation:
"Look, Kiyoshi!" Elsya pressed her forehead against the window, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. "It's even bigger than I imagined!"
I leaned closer for a better view. Before my eyes stretched a landscape worthy of a fantasy painting: several towers rose like spears of stone and crystal, while others loomed broad and massive like bastions. They were connected by cobbled courtyards, blooming gardens, and open-air corridors.
I couldn't help a technical thought—perhaps the architecture wasn't just for show. As a magic academy, the design made sense: if an experiment exploded or a spell went out of control, the damage would be confined to a single tower. It wasn't a centralized castle, but a distributed complex of towers.
The carriage halted before a wide staircase. Students in robes of various colors bustled up and down, some pausing when they noticed the royal emblem on our carriage, though none showed exaggerated surprise. No wonder—another princess of the Kingdom study here.
We disembarked one by one. Elsya inhaled deeply, as if trying to etch every detail of the place into her memory. Nerov, in contrast, observed with the wary indifference of an old wolf: detached, but alert that no one came too close to our belongings.
"First things first." Anis stepped forward, adjusting the cloak over her light armor. "There's a temple within the academy. I'll offer my prayers before anything else."
"Perfect." I nodded, though my attention was already on the great arches leading into the central reception hall. "In the meantime, I'll speak with the professors. It would be ideal to organize a meeting as soon as possible, so we can see if there are volunteers willing to join the mission."
"All right..." she replied, though her voice carried more doubt than usual. "I'll join you shortly."
Anis paused for a moment. Her eyes locked onto mine with silent confusion, as though trying to decipher something hidden behind my words. She said nothing, but the stare lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary before she turned and strode firmly toward the temple.
Elsya, having caught the exchange, sidled up to me with a mischievous grin.
"Looks like you unsettled the captain, Kiyoshi. Keep this up and it'll end up being just the two of us again, like always."
"Was there really anything odd in what I said?" I scoffed, though not fully convinced. "Anyway, Elsya, you shouldn't stray from Nerov while I go arrange the meeting."
"What are you talking about?" she stuck her tongue out at me playfully. "We're perfectly safe here—it's not like the orcs are lurking around. I'm going to explore the academy!"
"Elsya!" I raised my voice, but...
The girl bolted.
With a mischievous smile, she disappeared into one of the buildings. I hadn't meant to sound overprotective, but I knew Elsya: she had an uncanny knack for attracting trouble, even in supposedly safe places.
I was just about to go after her when it happened. At the edge of a side corridor, a hand shot out of nowhere and yanked her violently into the shadows of the corner.
Her silhouette vanished in the blink of an eye.
The girl had been kidnapped.
"ELSYA!" I shouted.
"PRINCESS!" Nerov roared almost at the same time.
I turned the corner with my heart in my throat, my hand already on the hilt of my sword. Nerov was at my side, his face hard as stone. We expected to find enemies... but what we saw was something very different.
Elsya was cornered against the wall, trapped between the arms of a woman of imposing presence. Her reddish hair, styled in perfect curls that seemed sculpted, gleamed in the light. She wore the academy's luxurious robe, shining as if she had stepped out of a royal portrait. She needed no introduction—her fiery red hair spoke of her lineage.
Lucy Euler Vector Lux.
The second princess.
Elsya's elder sister.
"What is the meaning of this!?" Lucy exclaimed sternly, gripping her younger sister's chin firmly. "What are you doing here, Elsya? Where are your vassals? Your attendants? For the gods' sake, look at you! Do you want me to have a heart attack?"
Elsya struggled, her face red with embarrassment.
"S-sister, I..."
"And without makeup, no less!" Lucy interrupted with a sigh that sounded rehearsed. "A member of the royal family should not go about looking so... so wild."
Without giving her a chance to defend herself, she opened an ornate bag and pulled out a cosmetics case. In a second, she already had a brush in hand, applying powder to Elsya's face with the precision of an obsessed artist.
"And these marks?" she frowned, rubbing insistently. "You still have freckles!"
"H-hey! That's my face!" Elsya squealed, overwhelmed. "Sister! Big sis! Please, I give up, let me go!"
The scene looked more like an assault than a reunion. Elsya flailed her hands in search of help, while Lucy, relentless, insisted on covering every trace of "imperfection" with her cosmetic arsenal.
Nerov and I finally rounded the corner, ready to rescue her from what we thought was a kidnapping. Instead, we found the elder princess aggressively applying makeup to the younger.
I let out a long sigh, lowering my hand from my sword.
"Your Highness Lucy..." I inclined my head, forcing myself to remain composed. "I beg your pardon if we intrude, but this is not some childish whim of your sister."
Lucy looked up at me, never stopping the brush on Elsya's face.
"Oh? And who are you to interrupt?"
"I am Sir Kiyoshi," I answered firmly. "A knight sworn to Princess Elsya. We are here on an official mission, entrusted directly by Marquis Gram and by His Majesty the King. She is not on an outing, Your Highness."
Lucy raised a brow, surprised, though her expression remained stern.
"A mission?" she scoffed, as if the word didn't fit, pointing at her sister who was still trapped under the storm of powders and creams.
I swallowed, drew in a breath, and calmly explained the situation: the mission entrusted to us, the direct order from the marquis, the goal of eradicating the orcs, and our first stop at Lucciola Academy to recruit a mage.
Lucy listened in silence, barely pausing her brush as I spoke. When I finished, she slowly lowered her hand and murmured, almost incredulous:
"I see... so father... Why would he entrust this mission to Elsya and not to me, when I'm already at the academy!?"
Elsya blinked nervously, her face still ghostly white from the excess powder.
"S-sister, I didn't ask for this..."
Lucy pressed her lips in frustration. The thought clearly burned within her. I stepped forward with a more conciliatory tone.
"Your Highness, I understand how you feel. But this is a delicate and dangerous mission. It does not reflect in any way your father's esteem or value for you. The marquis delegated this task to Princess Elsya... because I am her knight."
Lucy regarded me with interest, raising a brow slightly.
"Oh... so you're the one. I've heard rumors of your abilities, Sir Kiyoshi. It seems the man who was entrusted with protecting my clumsy sister isn't as ordinary as he appeared."
I remained silent, though deep down I knew the truth. It was the opposite—if the king had to risk someone, he would rather risk Elsya than Lucy. But such a thing could never be spoken aloud.
Lucy closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. When she opened them, her expression was no longer one of surprise, but cold and disciplined—the face of a princess trained to rule.
"Very well." She straightened with regal bearing. "Since it is a direct order from our father, I will not object. I shall personally make the request to the academy professors. But you... not another word about the true purpose of your visit. If word spreads that you're here recruiting mages for that mission, it will spark an unnecessary scandal."
"Understood." I nodded.
Lucy glanced at me sideways, a calculating glint in her eyes.
"Besides, I doubt money alone will convince them. If a mage chose to become a professor, it was precisely to leave behind the dangers of adventuring. Otherwise, they would still be in the field. Why would they accept now?"
I stayed silent. The observation was far too accurate.
"In this kingdom there are no adventurer-mages above gold rank anymore," Lucy went on. "The best talents are here, in this academy. I understand why father sent you, but convincing them won't be easy. Your only card is royal power. With that, anyone would have to accept."
I shook my head firmly.
"No. I won't force anyone with royal authority. That would be... unacceptable."
Lucy gave me a thin smile, almost mocking.
"Naïve..." she muttered, though she didn't press further.
Instead, she looked at me directly and dropped the question like a stone into still waters:
"Then, Sir Kiyoshi... why not become my knight instead of serving Elsya? If you want to serve someone competent, capable of handling diplomacy and rallying support, you should serve me. Under my command, you wouldn't have to worry about the marquis's schemes or other nobles' plots. Your only duty would be to be my sword. I can grant you a position and authority far greater than what you'll ever gain serving the younger princess."
I raised a brow.
"And why would Your Highness want such a thing? There is no competition for the throne. You have an elder brother who will inherit the crown."
Lucy tilted her head with sharp patience.
"Precisely because of that. The kingdom isn't stable. If there is only one strong faction, the balance breaks. And when that happens, the most ambitious nobles start looking for pretexts to rebel. Before that occurs, the best course is to secure as much support as possible and create counterweights. Only then can stability be assured."
I listened in silence, feeling the weight of her words. Lucy, however, pressed no further.
"You don't have to decide now," she concluded, adjusting her bag under her arm. "Think about it."
And without waiting for a reply, she turned with elegant poise and walked toward the academy's main building.
"I will request the meeting with the professors. There are protocols here, after all. I'll assist you in this matter... but only this once."
Elsya, still caked in makeup, slumped onto a nearby bench, sighing in defeat.
"M-my sister is exhausting..." she muttered, eyes glassy.
Nerov looked her up and down and let out a crooked grin.
"Exhausting, yes... but I must admit she managed to make you unrecognizable."
.
.
.
Rumble... rumble...
"Let's see... Professor Clarice's water magic class..." a sleepy voice murmured. "Bah, that's not very exciting. And what about Professor Ramón's enchantment lessons...? Maybe I should try my luck there today."
Rumble... rumble...
The one talking to herself was none other than Krin Woodman, a girl with messy gray hair, dark circles under her eyes, a fringe covering her left eye, and a loose robe. Her stomach sounded like a war drum echoing through the academy corridor.
"Uuugh!" she complained, clutching her abdomen. "With this hunger, I can't think at all. Did joining this academy turn out to be the best decision of my life... or the worst? Well, it's not like I had many options."
Krin Woodman: the brightest student at Lucciola Academy, the most promising young mage in years, and at the same time, the most overlooked. Not for lack of talent—she was probably the most powerful mage in the entire kingdom. But she lacked noble lineage, and at this academy, that was as bad as being invisible.
"The scholarship covers tuition and lodging... but I have to pay for food, materials, and even the damn soap myself. Seriously, nothing costs less than ten silver coins in this peacock nest?" she grumbled.
She was the only non-noble student at Lucciola. The children of wealthy merchants had tried before, but between discrimination and isolation, they always ended up dropping out. Krin was the only survivor. She survived because she was necessary.
For twenty silver coins, Krin would help anyone pass an exam, catch up on magical theory, or even cast spells. No noble wanted to admit it, but sooner or later, they all depended on her. For some, making an enemy of Krin meant certain failure and repeating the course.
That was her true power for survival in a hostile environment.
. . .
In one of the academy's inner courtyards, Krin noticed a crowd of students. The class change seemed to have halted abruptly.
"What's going on?" she asked, tucking her tangled hair behind her ear.
A student turned to her.
"Oh, Krin. Haven't you heard? Looks like classes are canceled for today."
"What!? Why!?"
"I'm not sure. They say the professors were urgently called to a meeting."
"No way...!" Krin groaned, almost collapsing to her knees.
"Well, I'm heading back to the dorm. I'll use the time to go eat with my friends. I'll call you if I need help with enchantment theory. See you."
One by one, the students dispersed. In the end, only Krin remained in the middle of the hallway, her stomach growling like a hungry beast.
Rumble... rumble...
"Ah... now, what am I going to eat?" she murmured, collapsing against a column.
"Damn, this is bad... If there are no classes today, there won't be food either. I knew I shouldn't have spent my damn savings on the mandatory robe just to attend lab classes..." she covered her face with a hand, exhaling frustration. "And if I faint here, will anyone have mercy and leave me a loaf of bread? No, of course not. At best, they'll laugh and say: 'Look, the commoner couldn't handle it anymore.'"
She snorted sarcastically to herself and trudged along one of the corridors leading to the academy's central garden. It was a wide space, with white stone paths, statues, and fountains, where students normally killed time between classes. Now, without activities, it was almost deserted.
"Great... not even a lousy bird in the sky to hunt."
She dropped onto a marble bench under the shadow of a cypress. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quiet the growls of her stomach.
"Come on, cheer up... it's still early to give up. There has to be something I can do..."
And then she remembered: beyond science and magic, there existed an age-old survival method that had saved unlucky individuals throughout human history. An instinctive mechanism, as natural as it was questionable, requiring only one thing: one's own cunning and someone else's abundance.
In other words: stealing.
. . .
"I'm not doing anything wrong..." she told herself as she moved stealthily. "I'm just a victim of society."
She was now near Professor Ramón's office. Usually, before leaving for his classes, the professor would bake a tart and leave it cooling on the window, ready to be devoured upon his return. But today, thanks to the emergency meeting, the office was empty... and the tart was vulnerable.
Krin's eyes sparkled.
"Come on... just a little."
She reached out, and with precise wind magic, tried to levitate the tart. But the distance worked against her: she could move it, yes, but not control it enough to bring it to her. If she insisted, it would only fall to the ground, wasting her prey.
Getting closer wasn't an option either. If anyone saw her near the window just as the tart disappeared, the nobles wouldn't hesitate to blame her.
It was an impossible task with two contradictory requirements: maintain distance and maintain control. To succeed, she had to give up one of them.
"Tsk... looks like I'll have to use that."
Krin, besides being a talented mage, harbored a secret. A secret she couldn't reveal to anyone—not out of modesty, but because of the consequences if discovered.
She looked up at the empty tower to the left, much closer to Professor Ramón's office. If she could reach it, she'd have a perfect angle and no witnesses. But walking to that spot or flying with wind magic would immediately give her away.
She closed her eyes, concentrating. She visualized herself and the tower. The world began to blur, reduced to silhouettes and outlines. She saw herself as trembling lines, ghostlike in the air.
The next step was projection. She visualized the path from her position to the inside of the tower: a blurry line connecting point A to point B.
An internal snap. A slight shiver. And then...
As if materialized from nowhere, Krin appeared in the tower.
"Hah... it worked."
Her breathing was heavy, not because the trick exhausted her too much, but because every time she did it, she felt a strange pressure, as if the world itself wanted to crush her for breaking the rules.
But now she was in position. And the tart... was within reach.
With precision, she levitated the tart with wind magic. The pastry trembled lightly in the air, floating slowly from the office window toward the tower. Every second felt eternal: the slightest breeze could give her away, the creak of old wood could alert someone. Yet nothing happened. The tart finally rested before her like a celestial offering.
"Finally... I did it." A victorious smile spread across her face.
Crunch. Crunch.
The first bite was brutal. No neat cuts, no elegant plates. Under normal circumstances, any young lady at the academy would slice a small piece, place it carefully on a dish, and eat with a fork and discreet smile.
But Krin, at that moment, was no young lady. She was a famished beast.
Frosting stuck to her lips, jam stained her fingers, and cream ran down to her wrist. Her cheeks puffed with the sweet dough as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.
"Gods... it's delicious! Who would've thought Professor Ramón was such a good cook?" she murmured, mouth full, barely intelligible.
"One can always become good at something, given enough time. I remember saying that in class."
The firm, deep male voice resonated behind her. Krin's world froze. She swallowed hard, almost choking, and slowly turned with her fingers still covered in cream.
There he was.
Her greatest fear.
A man with a stern face, slightly curly dark hair, and piercing eyes that seemed to dissect every lie before passing judgment. He wore the formal Lucciola professors' uniform, perfectly arranged. His body, still marked by discipline, carried the strength of a warrior rather than the fragility typical of mages. But the most striking feature was the absence: his right arm, lost long ago.
"P-pr... Professor D-Damon!" she stammered, bits of tart still in her mouth, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
He raised an eyebrow.
"At least finish chewing before you speak."
Glug.
"Th-this... professor... shouldn't you be at the faculty meeting?" Krin said, forcing a nervous smile, eyes darting in every direction for an escape route.
Ramón narrowed his eyes, with that unshakable air that made her feel exposed under his judgment.
"Hm. That meeting... turned out to be ill-suited for me," he said, stepping toward the window as if nothing were wrong. "Besides, I always come up to this tower to reflect while observing the view. Although..." His gaze shifted to her, piercing like a knife, "I think talking to this old man may bore you more than solitude."
He crossed his arms, his shadow looming over her.
"So... why don't we go down to my office and chat for a bit, Krin Woodman?"
The name, pronounced with that icy calm, echoed in the air like a verdict.
Now they were both in the office. Krin, stiff, occupied one of the chairs in front of Ramón's large wooden desk. The scent of the tart still lingered in the air, sweet and guilty. In her hands, a fork and a small plate holding an intact slice.
"You're not going to punish me?" she asked cautiously, not daring to meet his eyes.
Ramón, leaning back in his chair, interlaced the fingers of his left hand.
"If this were any other student, I'd have delivered a lecture already," his voice deepened, becoming more grave. "But with you, Krin, I'll turn a blind eye. I know the difficulties you face in this academy."
The girl parted her lips but didn't know what to say.
Ramón's usually stoic face softened for a moment, as if a distant memory had crossed his mind.
"Do you know what sets me apart from the other Lucciola professors? You know my story, right?"
Krin nodded slowly.
"Yes... within the academy, you're the most respected professor. That's because, in the past, you were a platinum-ranked adventurer, right? The famous mage across the kingdom... Ramón of the Ice Birds."
Ramón gave a faint, barely noticeable smile.
"I see my group's name is still remembered. It brings... memories."
His gaze fixed on the young girl.
"Krin, what do you think of adventurers?"
She raised an eyebrow, confused.
"What do I think...? I guess it's a job where you have to learn a bit of everything to survive. And it's very risky." Her expression hardened. "I think it's one of the worst professions someone could choose."
Ramón nodded gravely.
"That description is very accurate."
He rested his hand on the desk, leaning forward.
"What sets an adventurer apart from other professions is that there is always something new to learn—an unexplored territory, an unknown monster, a political mission disguised as a contract... survival techniques, hunting strategies. No matter how much you learn, you are always a step behind."
"That sounds horrible. Professor, if you had such talent for magic, why did you choose to become an adventurer? Unlike a court mage, an adventurer has no authority or retirement. Even a boring life in another profession would have been safer." Her gaze involuntarily drifted to the professor's empty sleeve. "That... could have gone wrong at any moment."
He didn't react to the gesture.
"As you said, being an adventurer is high-risk and low-reward. Very few succeed... and many die in the process." His voice lowered, tinged with something bordering on melancholy. "If you ask me why I chose it... I'd say it was for love."
Krin blinked, frowning.
"Love...? You were in love with someone?" She looked at him with a mix of annoyance and skepticism, as if fearing a cheesy youthful story.
Ramón let out a hoarse laugh.
"Hahaha... no, it's not what you think. I was in love with magic. At that time, magic was despised in the kingdom. I wanted to force the world to swallow its words. I wanted to prove that what I loved had value."
Krin crossed her arms, still with a piece of tart in her mouth.
"I see..."
"But even today, magic remains in the background in this kingdom. And that is why this academy is so important: it is the cornerstone for magic to claim the place it deserves." His gaze hardened again. "However..."
"Hmm." Krin tilted her head, slyly. "Seems like you want to talk about something more serious now."
Ramón nodded slowly.
"You're as perceptive as ever, Krin. You see... the professors were summoned to decide who will handle a certain matter."
"The problem with the orcs in the north, right?"
"Exactly. Even here in Lucciola, rumors are circulating. Concern is growing. His Majesty himself has commissioned a mission to eradicate them." He paused briefly, as if weighing his words. "Just yesterday, a group of recruiters arrived by the king's orders, tasked with hiring a capable mage to accompany them."
Krin sank into the back of her chair, letting out a heavy sigh and closing her eyes in annoyance.
"Well... that has nothing to do with me. The professors will go, right? So why tell me?"
Ramón leaned forward. His usually stern face now looked more serious than ever.
"Krin, listen. Most professors at this academy come from noble families. They are scholars, yes, but almost none have faced real danger. They won't want to accept a mission like this. And the few who might... I doubt they will step forward."
Krin lazily opened the eye not covered by her bangs.
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"It's not directly about you, but," he replied, his voice grave, "if no one answers His Majesty's call, Lucciola will be ridiculed. What will the court think? That the kingdom is at war and not even an entire academy of mages could send support on a mission against orcs. They will once again call us unnecessary and cowardly."
For a moment, his gaze turned sharp.
"Believe me, what's at stake isn't just the pride of this institution. It's the future of magic in the kingdom."
Krin held his gaze in silence until she noticed him lower a hand onto his shoulder. Ramón pressed firmly where his missing arm should have been.
"If I could... I would go myself. But as you can see..." He paused, letting the heavy air fill the office. "That's why, Krin..."
Ramón's tone changed; it was no longer that of a stern professor nor of an authoritative veteran. It was lower, intimate, almost confessional.
"You are the most talented mage I've met in years. You surpass many of these professors, even if you insist on hiding it. In you, I see what I once wanted to be..." His gaze flicked to the absent arm for a moment, as if it weighed heavier than ever. "I would even say you are stronger than I was in my youth."
The hardness of his face softened, as if speaking more to a shadow of himself than to her.
"Please, Krin. Do it. Not for me, nor for this academy. Do it for the sake of mages. Make this kingdom remember that we exist."
Krin lowered her gaze to the empty plate. Her fingers drummed against the fork, searching for a distraction, an excuse not to answer. Silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, her lips twisted into a bitter grimace.
"I'm sorry, professor..." she murmured. "But that's not my problem."
Ramón blinked, incredulous.
"What...?"
Krin raised her voice. First contained, then laden with a rage that seemed to have waited too long to escape.
"What has this kingdom done for us? What have those damn nobles done for me?" The fork clanged against the plate with a metallic ring that echoed through the room. "This miserable scholarship barely covers my studies! Not enough even to eat every day. And I'm the only scholar here... every day swallowing the mockery, the whispers, the superior looks of those idiots with long names and fat purses."
Her eyes flashed with fury.
"And what would I gain if I help them? Empty thanks? Another chain around my neck? If I accept this mission, tomorrow they'll want me marching off to war against the empire. And the day after tomorrow, when I'm no longer useful... they'll discard me, like a broken pawn on a board."
Ramón tried to speak, but Krin raised a hand to stop him.
"No. Forget it. I won't dance to the tune of those damn nobles."
The professor exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders sinking under an invisible weight.
"Krin... I've heard you come from the northern villages. Are you really going to ignore the cries for help from your homeland? If you won't do it for the nobles or the academy, do it for them at least."
The laugh that escaped her was dry, humorless.
"'My homeland'?" she repeated with irony. "That place means nothing to me. Only memories I prefer to bury. There's no one left there... nothing. It's not a place I want to return to." She stood abruptly, adjusting her tunic with a sharp, defiant gesture. "I have no duty or obligation to them."
She bowed slightly, a formal farewell heavy with sarcasm.
"With your permission."
The echo of her footsteps resounded in the silence as she moved toward the door. Ramón lowered his gaze, defeated. He had believed his words, appealing to honor, justice, and nostalgia, would touch at least one chord in the girl. But her heart was more closed than he had expected.
"When someone decides to reject the world... no speech can bend them," he thought bitterly.
The door creaked as it opened. And then, just as Krin was about to leave, Ramón's voice reached her, calm, almost casual:
"I almost forgot... They were offering five hundred gold coins to the mage who accepts the mission."
The young girl froze in her tracks. Her hand remained motionless on the doorknob.
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.
.
"Uh... Krin Woodman, right?"
When she looked up, she found herself facing a strange scene: a tall knight with dark hair and an imposing presence regarded her with serene seriousness, as if moderating this unexpected "interview." Beside him, in a chair far too large for her, a red-haired girl of about ten swung her legs, trying to maintain a solemn expression. At the other end, a paladin in armor, whose stern gaze could break rock, watched her as if she had already passed judgment.
"Yes. That's me."
The knight cleared his throat, leaning slightly forward.
"Miss Woodman, with all due respect... that robe you're wearing, isn't it the student uniform? How old are you?"
Krin raised an eyebrow.
"That's right. This is the incredibly unnecessary and absurdly expensive academy robe. I'm currently a third-year student. I'm fifteen."
She answered quickly, with near-insolent confidence. In job interviews, she knew well that the key wasn't worrying about details—it was sounding confident.
The knight turned his face slightly toward the paladin, whispering uneasily:
"Hey, Anis... weren't all interviewees supposed to be adults?"
The paladin crossed her arms, frowning.
"Well, fifteen is considered an adult now, but we didn't come here to recruit inexperienced students."
"Ah, I think I heard something about that." The redhead raised her hand casually, as if speaking in class. "Professor Ramón sent a special recommendation. That we evaluate a promising student."
Once again, all eyes turned to Krin.
The girl cleared her throat to sound important, though she had to sit up on the cushion to reach the table.
"Miss Woodman... as you know, this is a dangerous mission. Perhaps you are too young to face something like this."
Krin looked her up and down, incredulous.
"Really? You're the last person here who should be saying that."
The girl blinked, taken aback by the boldness, but didn't reply. The knight cleared his throat to soften the blow.
"Well... the report we received says you are surprisingly talented for your age. You might be qualified. But we need to deliberate. We will positively review your qualities and let you know. You may step aside."
Krin squinted.
"That's it?"
Her dry tone cut through the formality of the room. And in her mind, an idea slipped in: in interviews, it also helps to shake the ground under the competition.
She crossed her arms and spoke without hesitation:
"Researcher Gerar only wants to go north to collect enchanted stones, he knows nothing about orcs or abyssal magic. Professor Roselia has a huge debt and desperately seeks money, no real experience either. And Professor Karl..." she scoffed, "can barely cast third-level magic. He's only applying to curry favor with the royal family."
The blow was precise, but the paladin stood up sharply, her voice thundering like a hammer.
"Enough! That is an intolerable disrespect. We did not come here to demean others. If your intention is to mock the other candidates, then leave immediately."
Krin pressed her lips together, holding back her anger.
"That wasn't my intention, to insult them. But you didn't give me room to show what I can do. If I must highlight my skills by comparing myself to them, I will."
"Then tell us about your skills," the paladin replied, leaning forward. "If you are going to belittle others, you better have nothing to be ashamed of."
Krin leaned forward. With dangerous calm, she let her words fall like a knife:
"I can use fifth-level magic."
The air froze.
Absolute silence filled the room. Even the little girl stopped swinging her legs.
In this world, learning to cast magic was not itself a miracle.
With some study and dedication, anyone could reach first-level magic: a will-o'-the-wisp in the palm, a gust of wind, a light spell.
With discipline, solid habits, and constant practice, second-level magic could be mastered. That was the standard for most adventurers and mages, and where most plateaued.
The truly talented could make it to the third level, though few could cast it fluidly or continuously. There, the common mages began to separate from those with real potential.
Fourth-level magic was another story: the domain of geniuses. It was so rare to find someone capable of it that each became a renowned figure, an inevitable reference in any kingdom.
But fifth-level magic... that was no longer a human achievement. It was a miracle. A gift from the gods. No one in the kingdom could yet cast it, and it was considered almost mythical. For a fifteen-year-old girl to declare it without hesitation... was almost like announcing, before everyone, that she was the first to cross that sacred threshold in the kingdom.
And beyond that, at the absolute pinnacle, was sixth-level magic. A mastery so high that only two people in the entire world had achieved it: the sleepy druid of the Druidic Sanctuary, and the Third Rootari of the Empire, Althena Cache Goldfix. Names spoken with reverence.
That was the weight of Krin Woodman's words.
The silence still weighed in the room when Anis stepped forward.
"If what you say is true, prove it here and now," she said, her voice as hard as the steel of her armor.
The red-haired girl, Elsya, opened her eyes wide, expectant. The knight, Kiyoshi, simply interlaced his fingers on the table, watching Krin with his usual calm, saying nothing.
Krin raised an eyebrow.
"Here? If I use fifth-level magic inside this building, I'd reduce it to rubble."
An awkward silence cut through them. It was Anis who, after pressing her lips together, nodded firmly.
"Very well. Then we will go to the training grounds."
The cool afternoon wind greeted them as they stepped out onto the training yard. The blackened stone floor still bore the scars of previous spells, but nothing compared to what they were about to witness.
Krin stepped forward to the center, raising her hand. For a moment, she seemed just a student in a robe far too big for her. But then her eyes glowed with a concentration that erased all traces of doubt.
"Fifth-level wind magic..." she murmured.
The air around her began to whistle violently, spinning in invisible spirals. A suffocating pressure enveloped the field; stones on the ground trembled, hair stood on end. In the sky, dark clouds swirled in seconds, as if the very atmosphere obeyed her will.
Suddenly, a spear of pure wind, gigantic and radiant, descended from above and slammed into the ground with a thunderous roar that echoed across the training yard. The impact sent a shockwave so violent that everyone had to step back, shielding their faces with their arms.
When the echo dissipated, what remained was a smoking crater in the center of the terrain. As if a tornado had swept the place clean, dust and grass swirled in eddies; the very atmosphere seemed charged with static electricity, still vibrating with the residue of the spell.
"That was amazing!" Elsya exclaimed, unable to contain herself, her eyes shining with excitement.
Anis tried to maintain her composure, but the tension in her lips cracked and her jaw trembled as she spoke:
"I-It's... impossible..."
Their faces were marked by astonishment, all but one. Kiyoshi remained still, serene, watching the scene with his usual calm.
Krin, panting but with a spark of satisfaction in her eyes, raised her voice:
"That was fifth-level magic, known as..."
"'Boreas' Celestial Spear,'" Kiyoshi interrupted, uttering the exact name of the spell with absolute ease.
The young girl turned to him, eyes wide.
"How... how do you know that? You're a knight, right? Since when does a knight know the names of fifth-level spells?"
Kiyoshi held her gaze firmly, his expression as unfathomable as ever.
"Ah, that's because... let's just say I've seen more than I let on."
For the first time in a long while, Krin felt exposed. She swallowed nervously but didn't let her voice waver:
"Alright... now you can trust my words a little more."
Anis, having regained her breath, stepped forward with steady steps. Her eyes still shone with disbelief, but her tone was solemn.
"I don't like your insolence, nor your audacity toward the other candidates. But... after seeing that... I cannot deny your ability."
She raised her right hand, straight as if sealing an oath.
"I, Anis, Captain of the Gradient Knights, recognize you as our new member."
Krin raised an eyebrow, though she could not completely hide the interest that name had sparked in her.
"The Gradient Knights... Mmh, it seems the kingdom is taking this mission seriously after all."
Elsya, unable to contain her excitement, clapped loudly, the sound echoing across the empty field.
"Welcome, Krin! I knew you were special!"
Krin crossed her arms, trying to maintain an air of pride, but a barely contained smile tugged at her lips.
Then Kiyoshi broke the silence. He stepped forward to stand before her, and with a calm that contrasted with the wind still whipping around them, extended his hand.
"Then, I suppose it's official. Welcome to the group, Krin. We'll be working together... it's a pleasure."
Krin looked at him a fraction too long. She wasn't used to such gestures. She didn't normally shake hands with anyone, let alone a man. But, with a slight tremor in her fingers, she accepted the handshake.
"Y-Yes..."
The contact was brief, awkward, but enough. And as their hands parted, the air continued to roar around them, as if the wind itself were celebrating the completion of the team.
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.
.
The rattling of the carriage accompanied their conversation. Nerov held the reins with one hand, as always.
"Who would have thought we'd find a mage capable of casting fifth-level spells..." he commented with a whistle of admiration. "I'm starting to see this mission in a much better light. Seems like my burden is getting lighter on its own."
"Focus on the road, Nerov," Anis replied in her usual sharp tone.
"Yes, Captain, yes..." he said without stopping his smile, as if he were already used to being scolded.
Krin, lounging lazily in her seat, glanced at Elsya.
"Mmmh... now that I think about it, you're very different from your sister. In fact, too different."
Elsya let out a giggle.
"Well, you know what they say: every tiger has its stripes... though in this case, I think my sister came out more like claws."
"Bad joke, princess," Krin said with a sigh, though the corners of her lips curved into a small smile.
Suddenly, Elsya leaned toward her, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Hey, tell me! How did you learn to use fifth-level magic? How many books did you have to read? How long did you train? Do you have more spells besides that one?"
"U-Um... princess..." Krin shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to keep up with the rapid-fire questions.
Kiyoshi intervened, placing a jug of cool water in each of their hands.
"Elsya, calm down. Don't overwhelm Krin," he said, his tone calm, almost paternal. "She's not used to royalty approaching her like this."
Krin took a sip and raised an eyebrow at him.
"I see... though, who would've thought you were the group's babysitter?"
Kiyoshi chuckled softly, a little awkwardly.
"I guess someone has to do it."
"Well, do it properly. I've never seen such a big babysitter in my life." Krin stretched lazily, letting out a mocking yawn, and flopped into the back seats with complete confidence. "Better for me to get some sleep. We still have a long way to Crossalia, and I have a feeling that once we get there... I won't even be able to close my eyes."
She rolled onto the cushions, adjusting herself as if on a throne. Then she smiled, satisfied, adding theatrically:
"Of course, sleeping back here is no sacrifice. This carriage is huge... and luxurious. Did I mention that? HUGE AND LUXURIOUS!"
Her comment, half complaint and half compliment, resonated with her usual blend of audacity wrapped in charm.
"Rest easy," Kiyoshi said naturally. "I'll wake you when we arrive."
"I'll be counting on that. Thank you very much, knight-babysitter." Krin's mocking tone lingered in the air, though as she leaned back her posture was more relaxed than before, as if she had let her guard down for the first time.
"It's nothing... Wait, what did you just call me?" murmured Kiyoshi, tilting his head, but the mage already had her eyes closed and a faint smile hidden on her lips.
The carriage continued along the road, the wheels rolling steadily over the earth. Outside, the whisper of the wind and the creaking of trees created a deceptive calm.
Suddenly, a strong jolt made everything shake. The carriage came to an abrupt stop, forcing Kiyoshi to grab the edge to keep his balance.
"What's happening, Nerov?" he asked firmly.
Anis, alert:
"Are we under attack?"
"No... I don't think so." Nerov shook his head, though his hardened expression revealed that something was wrong. "The road is blocked."
In front of them, the narrow incline was interrupted by a colossal rock, detached from the mountain. It was as large as a house, embedded in the ground as if it had fallen just hours before. On both sides, steep walls and dense forest prevented any way around.
Kiyoshi and Anis dismounted without hesitation. The air down there smelled of wet earth and fresh dust, as if the landslide had happened very recently. Inside the carriage, Elsya and Krin remained in a deep sleep, unaware of the problem.
Anis crouched, examining the surroundings with a sharp eye. Her gauntlet got dirty tracing a line over a dark patch.
"...Is this blood?" she asked in a low voice. The dry, brown tone of the substance made it hard to tell whether it was really blood or just darkened soil, and there were no remains of a body nor traces of a crushed carriage. Just that solitary, unsettling stain, as if something had happened there and then been meticulously erased.
Nerov clicked his tongue, scanning the rock with a critical eye.
"This isn't going to be easy..."
Anis straightened, frowning.
"There's no choice." Her voice was firm, though a spark of suspicion shone in her eyes. "We'll have to turn back and take the other path to Crossalia."
Kiyoshi said nothing. He remained silent, his eyes scanning the rock's surface as if searching for a grip. Then, without any further explanation, he stepped forward.
And the unthinkable happened.
The ground trembled beneath their feet as, with an apparently simple gesture, the rock began to rise. Smaller pieces broke off, and dust swirled around, as if the world itself refused to accept what it was seeing. Finally, the entire block—a giant rock of more than twenty tons—was suspended above Kiyoshi's head.
"W-WHAT THE HELL...?!" Anis stepped back, unable to process what she was seeing.
Her mind raced. A rock that size would have required entire teams of miners, heavy tools, and several days of work to move. At best, a blessed knight or a monster of immense strength could carry something much smaller... six tons, maybe seven. That was already the limit of imagination.
But this. This defied every known logic.
Anis felt a chill run down her spine. Cedrek, the proud bulwark of the kingdom, seemed utterly ridiculous in comparison. Not even the Witherer of the Empire, famous across the continent for his superhuman strength, could have dreamed of accomplishing something like this.
The conclusion stabbed her mind like a knife: Kiyoshi wasn't just strong. He was probably the strongest man in the world.
A tense, almost uneasy smile appeared on her lips.
"This is... too ridiculous. Even for the pinnacle of the Paladin... Cedrek."
Kiyoshi, unperturbed, barely turned his head.
"Seems there's no one underneath." He took a few steps forward, the rock still resting on his shoulders.
Then, in the most casual way, he let it fall downhill.
The impact was deafening. The crash echoed across the valley, making the treetops shake and sending birds into flight in flocks. The entire ground seemed to tremble under the weight of the block as it bounced and lodged further down the slope.
Nerov whistled in admiration, approaching Anis with a sly smile and eyes gleaming with mischief.
"See? I told you. We're on vacation."
Kiyoshi brushed the dust off his gloves and walked toward the group with his usual calm.
"Sorry, I thought it would be better to move it immediately. That rock would have delayed anyone trying to pass through here."
Anis pointed at him with a trembling finger, her voice tense.
"W-wait... wait a minute."
Kiyoshi tilted his head, genuinely confused.
"What's wrong? Was it wrong? Leaving it there would've been dangerous."
Anis stepped forward, nearly losing her composure.
"If you were SO strong, why didn't you say so the whole trip?!"
"I did say so," he replied, shrugging. "The Marquis assigned this mission to us because he trusts my strength."
"Saying it so casually has nothing to do with WHAT I JUST SAW!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Kiyoshi lowered his gaze for a moment, somewhat uncomfortable.
"Sorry."
A heavy silence stretched over them. Finally, Anis exhaled forcefully, trying to calm herself.
"Alright. I was going to reorganize the strategies considering Krin's magic, but now..." she looked at him seriously, "I'll also have to account for your strength in the group."
At last, she understood: the last unknown regarding the Marquis's true intentions had been resolved.
Nerov cleared his throat, breaking the tension.
"In that case, I guess I won't have to sacrifice my share to hire more mercenaries, huh?"
Anis fixed him with a glare so sharp that even the wind seemed to fall silent. Nerov raised his hands in surrender, smiling nervously.
And so, the journey to Crossalia continued.
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.
.
In a remote rural area, green fields stretched as far as the eye could see. A humble family lived in a wooden cabin, surrounded by pens where animals grazed peacefully. The midday sun cast a warm glow over the earth, and the air was filled with the hum of insects and the occasional bleat of sheep.
"Come on, food's ready!" called the mother from the cabin doorway, drying her hands on her apron.
The father, a robust man weathered by hard work, emerged from the barn, followed by his little daughter, still clutching a rag doll. They entered laughing together and sat around the wooden table, where steaming stew awaited in simple bowls.
The scene couldn't have been more ordinary: spoons clinking, the girl talking excitedly, the mother smiling tiredly, the father laughing in his deep voice. Just any family, on any ordinary midday.
Then, a strange sound broke the routine.
"Did you hear that?" the girl asked, turning her head.
A sheep had entered the cabin. It walked slowly across the wooden floor, bleating softly, until it stood in front of the table. Its eyes shone with a strange intensity.
"What is it doing in here?" murmured the father, half-standing. "It must have gotten separated from the flock."
"Poor thing," added the girl, leaning slightly toward it.
But then, the air grew thick. The sheep stared at them without blinking. Its mouth opened... and a guttural murmur emerged, a chant in an unknown language, so alien it seemed to echo inside the bones.
"W-what the hell...?" the father managed to say.
There was no time for more.
A sharp snap filled the air, and in that instant, the man's head vanished. No cut, no wound: it simply disintegrated in an invisible burst. The body fell onto the table, spilling the stew everywhere, while the girl screamed in terror.
The mother leapt to her feet, but the sheep was no longer a sheep. Its wool tore like fake skin, revealing green muscles and yellow fangs. The creature grew in size, deforming until it took the shape of a massive orc, its mouth still murmuring the echo of the spell.
With a brutal swipe, it struck the woman, slamming her against the wooden wall. The impact was sharp, decisive.
The girl screamed relentlessly, frozen with horror. The orc looked at her with a twisted smile, its eyes gleaming with primitive hatred.
"D-daddy... m-mom..." the little girl stammered, backing away.
But a huge, rough hand grabbed her arm, lifting her into the air as if she weighed nothing.
"Sshhh..." growled the beast, licking its fangs. "You... will serve."
The girl shrieked with all her strength as the cabin was filled with the smell of iron and death.
The orc exited the house with its prey, disappearing into the sunlit fields like a shadow devouring the innocence of midday.
The scene fell silent. Only the animals in the pens bleated nervously, as if they had witnessed something no living being should ever see.
End of Part 2