A warm light pulsed from the elf's hands, pushing against the pale blue frost on Riko's arm. The air hissed and sizzled, not with the sound of melting, but of magic being unmade. The jagged, crystalline structures on Riko's skin began to crack and flake away, dissolving into harmless motes of light before they could even hit the ground.
In a matter of moments, it was over. The golden light faded, and the ancient, floating tome vanished. The elf staggered back a step, breathing heavily from the exertion.
Riko stared at her arm. Where the jagged, permanent frost had been, there was now only smooth, unblemished skin.
The elf caught her breath, a look of tired satisfaction on her face. "Just as I thought, it was the same pattern as the Crystalline Blight."
She looked at Riko's now-healed arm. "It's an ancient parasitic curse that mimics the properties of frost, but it's not actually ice. My ancestors recorded a counter-spell for it."
Riko stared at her own arm, flexing her fingers as if rediscovering a part of herself she thought was lost forever. She looked up at the elf, her usual flat expression completely gone, her eyes shining with an unfamiliar, raw emotion.
"Lenna... Thank you."
Lenna, the elf, gave a tired but warm smile and a simple nod.
After a moment, Riko's head snapped up, her eyes scanning the boisterous crowds around the bonfire with a new urgency. "Kerina, she here yet? Have you seen her?" She turned her hopeful gaze to me.
I simply shook my head. "No. I haven't seen her since we parted ways at the Guild this afternoon."
With the immediate shock of the miracle fading, a new, lighter energy settled over Riko. She stood up, stretching her newly healed arms freely, her heavy white coat now lying forgotten on the bench.
"The feast is starting, And for the first time in a very long time, I'm actually hungry. I'm going to get a plate."
"Food? Now you're talking!" the dwarf boomed, immediately getting to his feet. The other human adventurers murmured in agreement, ready to join the celebration.
As they prepared to leave, Riko turned to me. "Hayato, do you want anything? I can bring some food back for you."
I just nodded, not yet ready to brave the boisterous crowd. "Anything is fine. Thank you."
With that, Riko, the dwarf, and the others disappeared into the throng of people heading for the long tables laden with food. The noise of their departure was quickly swallowed by the festival, leaving the two of us in a sudden, quiet bubble.
I was now alone at the table with Lenna, the elf who had just casually performed a miracle.
The festival seemed to fade into a distant hum. I looked up past the bonfire's smoke, at the deep, dark blue of the night sky, lit only by a brilliant, singular moon. Below, the people of the capital were lost in their celebration. Couples were dancing wildly to a tune played on pipes and drums, while groups of old men raised their mugs, cheering for the kingdom. Near the fire, a different kind of ritual was taking place, as some people shouted curses into the flames, damning the name of the Demon King who had died centuries ago.
"It is a strange holiday," a soft voice said beside me. It was Lenna. "A celebration born from a forgotten, terrible war."
She turned to me, her expression calm and curious. "May I see it?" When I looked at her, confused, she clarified. "Your Guild Card."
She reached into a pouch at her belt and produced her own. It was a thin, elegant plate of what looked like polished, ancient wood, its surface worn smooth with age.
She placed it on the table between us. "It's only fair I show you mine in return."
I looked at her card, then reached into my own satchel and took out the new, metallic plate that Valerius had created. I placed it on the table beside hers.
I picked up the elf's Guild Card. The polished wood was warm and light to the touch, humming with a faint, ancient energy. As I held it, glowing letters appeared on its surface.
[ Name: Lenna Vaeloris ]
[ Rank: S+ ]
[ Class: Arch-Sage ]
My breath caught. S-plus Rank. This quiet, gentle elf wasn't just a high-ranking adventurer like Kerina or Riko; she was in a league of her own, one of the most powerful people in the entire kingdom.
At the same time, Lenna reached out and gently touched my own metallic card lying on the table. The moment her fingers made contact, her calm expression vanished, replaced by one of wide-eyed shock. She didn't just see the card; she could clearly feel the mana signature within it.
"This power..." she whispered, her eyes fixed on the card. She felt the overwhelming, authoritative golden aura the signature of Valerius.
Her gaze then flickered to the new insignia the receptionist had added. A simple 'C'. The contradiction was so vast it was nonsensical. She looked up at me, her brow furrowed in deep, genuine confusion.
"This mana signature is immense, But... your rank is only C? Why?"
I didn't answer her question. Instead, I placed her guild card back on the table in front of her, a clear signal that I was ending that line of inquiry.
I then changed the subject, gesturing to her card. "S+ Rank, how long does it take to achieve a rank like that?"
Lenna didn't even look up. She was still holding my metallic card, her fingers tracing the faint, lines of the Guild Master's mana signature as if trying to decipher a complex riddle.
"The final promotion was easy. It only took a day. I killed a rogue dragon." She paused, then added, "I reported it to the Guild, and they granted the rank up instantly. But I have been an adventurer for ten years now."
Her words hung in the air between us. Kill a dragon. Easy.
My mind, which was so good at calculating risks and variables, struggled to even process the scale of that statement. The power difference between a Rank-A adventurer like Kerina and an S+ like. This quiet elf sitting beside me wasn't just a powerful adventurer; she was on the level of a natural disaster.
"So, tell me," Lenna said, her eyes finally lifting from my Guild Card to meet my own. "Why does this feel so strange? I can sense an immense mana signature from your card, but from you yourself... I don't feel any mana at all."
I met her intensely curious gaze. It was time for a partial, but necessary, truth. "The mana signature isn't mine. It belongs to the Guild Master, Valerius."
Lenna's confusion only deepened. "The Guild Master's? But why?"
An idea sparked in my mind a crucial test. "It's a long story, but speaking of that... would you help me with an experiment?" I looked her directly in the eyes. "I want you to try and slice my skin."
A small, curious smile touched her lips. "Of course, Are you sure? If it's give me your dagger?"
I unhooked the simple dagger from my belt and offered it to her hilt-first. "I can't slice my own skin with it. Kerina couldn't either. But you are S+ Rank. I need to know if you can."
She took the dagger, her expression thoughtful. He's so confident, she thought, her own powerful senses telling her he had no defensive magic active. Why is he so certain he can't be cut?
"Hold out your hand," she said.
I did. She held my hand gently, and with the other, she aimed the tip of the dagger at my finger, intending to draw just a single drop of blood.
Lenna drew the sharp edge of the dagger across the tip of my finger with a precise, controlled motion.
Skreeee.
A faint, high-pitched scraping sound, like metal on glass, echoed in the quiet space between us. The blade slid cleanly across my skin, but it didn't cut. It didn't even leave a mark.
She stopped, her eyes wide with confusion. She tried again, this time putting more deliberate force behind it. The result was the same. No slice. No drop of blood.
She lowered the dagger and took my finger in her hand, holding it up to the firelight and squeezing the tip firmly, checking for any sign of a cut. There was nothing. My skin was completely, impossibly intact.
A look of pure, scientific disbelief crossed her face. She picked up the dagger and began to slice again and again, in a series of quick, frustrated motions from different angles, each attempt meeting with the same frictionless failure.
Finally, she stopped, pulling the blade away and staring at my finger, then at my face, her voice a whisper of pure, analytical awe. "Incredible... Just how strong is your skin?"
I just shrugged in response to her question. "I don't know. It's a recent development."
She tried slicing with the dagger again and again, each attempt failing with a useless scraping sound. Finally, she stopped, setting the small blade down with a sigh of finality.
"This tool is inadequate for this test."
Her ancient, silver-bound tome materialized in the air once more, its pages flipping rapidly until they stopped on a single, glowing page depicting a long, slender sword. Lenna reached forward, her hand sinking into the page as if it were water, and pulled out her special katana.
It was an ancient and storied weapon. The edge of the blade didn't look particularly sharp, and the steel itself had faint, almost imperceptible twists along its length, the marks of countless battles.
She held the fabled weapon in her hands, its quiet deadliness a stark contrast to the festival around us. Her gaze was now completely serious.
"You asked me to test your skin. You should be ready. This is the blade that killed the rogue dragon. It only took one slice."
I held my hand out, my jaw tight.
Lenna took a slow, deliberate breath, her entire demeanor focused. She controlled her movement with an inhuman precision, the tip of the ancient, dragon-slaying katana moving with an almost imperceptible slowness. She didn't swing. She gently rested the blade against the pad of my thumb.
Then, with immense control, she drew the blade across my skin.
She lifted the katana away. We both stared at my thumb. It had finally happened. A cut. A razor-thin white line was now visible on my skin, a mark so fine it was like a crack in porcelain. The blade had finally managed to slice the surface, but it wasn't deep enough to draw even a single drop of blood.
To Be Continued.