11. Grow Up

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of galloping hooves echoed across the frozen landscape. From afar, a group of figures emerged—some clad in full plate armor. Soldiers, alert and cautious, approached the campsite with weapons in hand.

The white-armored Knight slowly lowered his stance. Calm and upright now, he exuded the presence of a warrior ever prepared.

A man with a silver-plated badge and fur mantle dismounted.

"I am Darius, Captain of the City Guard from Orland," he announced firmly. "Are you the one who defeated the Black Mage and brought his corpse?"

The Knight placed a hand on his chest and bowed respectfully, the gesture of a true Knight.

"My name is... Alvarez," he replied evenly. "I didn't defeat him alone. It was thanks to the efforts of two mages and the mercenaries who weakened him first."

"Is that so…? Then where's the body of this Black Mage?" Darius asked, furrowing his brow.

"There." Alvarez pointed toward an old cart beneath a snow-covered pine.

Rustle.

The cloth was pulled back—revealing a horrifying sight.

Inside the cart lay the mangled corpse of a Black Mage, still radiating dark energy as if his soul hadn't fully departed. His limbs severed. Next to him, the bisected body of a Minotaur, blood frozen and blackened.

"Urgh—!"

Some soldiers gagged, turning away to vomit into the snow.

Darius squinted, face turning grave.

"And where were you planning to take these... abominations?"

"To the Southern Duke's territory," Alvarez answered calmly. "That was my original mission. I was only meant to hunt the Minotaur. Who would've guessed the mastermind was a Black Mage?"

Darius glanced again at the body, but quickly averted his eyes from the soul-crushing aura it emitted.

"...That darkness is overwhelming," muttered a man stepping forward.

He was middle-aged, wearing a white robe embroidered with holy symbols. His gaze was sharp—yet calm.

"Judging from the lingering aura, he was likely… an Archbishop," he said gravely.

He gave Alvarez a short bow.

"My name is Eric, a Cleric from the Temple of Letticia."

"Knight Alvarez," the Knight replied politely.

"May I ask… why he died in this condition?" Darius questioned, eyeing Alvarez with suspicion.

Alvarez looked down, silent.

The truth? After the battle, he had given the Black Mage a high-grade potion, intending to keep him alive for interrogation.

But he had forgotten to deactivate Auto Pilot… and the horse had traveled nonstop for hours through freezing terrain. The Black Mage had died from exposure.

Eric spoke up, sparing Alvarez the trouble.

"It's likely due to forbidden magic. I sense parts of his soul are missing. That's why his corpse still radiates such… torment."

Alvarez nodded quietly, eyes avoiding direct contact.

"Then allow me to purify him. Such evil must not linger," Eric said solemnly.

"Of course. I leave it to you," Alvarez responded.

The ritual lasted about fifteen minutes. Several assisting priests joined the purification, as the dark aura slowly faded.

Meanwhile, Darius and Alvarez returned to the campfire. More figures arrived—adventurers bearing golden emblems on their chests.

"Greetings, Sir Knight. I'm Scarlet, a Mage," said a confident woman with wavy dark green hair.

Despite the snow, her robe was open-chested, barely concealing her curves—or her gold-ranked badge.

Darius, caught off guard, cleared his throat and looked away.

"I'm Alvarez," the Knight replied, his tone flat but respectful.

Another man stepped forward, well-dressed with the Adventurer Guild crest on his chest.

"My name is Hans. Vice Manager of Orland's Guild Branch, and a Beast Tamer."

"We came to verify your achievements."

Alvarez paused for a split second at the name. Hans…

The same name he had given his horse—now lying weak nearby.

A coincidence that stung unexpectedly.

"So… are you really the Silver-ranked adventurer everyone's been whispering about?" Hans asked casually.

"As you can see."

Alvarez pulled out a silver badge and handed it over.

Hans inspected it. "It's genuine."

He smiled. "Then I officially confirm your accomplishments. I'll send a letter to the southern guild branch. You can claim your promotion there."

"Congratulations, Sir Alvarez. You'll likely be the first in history to reach Adamantium Rank in under six months."

"…Huh?"

"Huh?!"

Scarlet and Darius exclaimed simultaneously.

Hans elaborated, "You've taken missions well above your rank. And now, defeating a Minotaur and an Archbishop-tier Black Mage? That's unheard of."

Darius stepped back, then saluted. Scarlet's expression shifted—from flirtation to genuine admiration.

"Hmmm~ Sir Knight…" Scarlet leaned in with a sultry smile.

"Why not form a party with me? Traveling alone must be cold… perhaps we could warm each other along the way~"

She whispered right next to his ear.

Alvarez turned slightly.

"…I'm afraid I must decline, Lady Scarlet," he replied smoothly.

"My next journey will be far too dangerous to share. And I'm not looking for… temporary warmth."

He gave a polite bow—Knightly manners intact.

"Oh my… what a shame~" Scarlet purred, though a flicker of disappointment betrayed her smile.

Darius gestured toward the limp horse nearby.

"What happened to your horse?"

Alvarez's lips tightened. Once again, he looked away.

"…That's…"

He couldn't say it. That he had overused Auto Pilot, forcing the poor beast to march through snowstorms nonstop—until its body nearly gave out.

Hans the Beast Tamer examined the horse.

"He's extremely fatigued. Could it be a curse? Some dark mages use magic to drain stamina."

"Such curses really exist?" Scarlet asked, folding her arms.

"Indeed," Eric replied, now done with purification. "This might be the residual effect of dark magic, even if the aura is gone."

'…No. There's no curse,' Alvarez thought.

'Just my mistake…'

"Tch. Disgusting mages," Darius muttered, fists clenched.

Later, Sir Hans—the horse—miraculously recovered, thanks to Beast Tamer Hans, who foraged herbs and prepared a special mixture.

Beast Tamers were more than animal tamers. They were healers, caretakers… loyal friends.

Once provisions were secured, Alvarez resumed his journey to the southern territory.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Meanwhile, Erica's caravan rolled through snow-hardened roads toward the south.

Erica sat silently, gaze distant.

"Yaaawn… at least the road seems peaceful this time," Pyra murmured, hugging a small pillow.

"When you say that… something bad usually happens," Erica replied flatly.

"Oh come on, don't jinx us. That kind of thing won't—"

Whinny!

A loud neigh interrupted.

Screech!

The wagon jerked to a halt.

"Ambush from the forest! White Wolves incoming!"

"Ah…!" Pyra sprang to her feet.

"…Told you," Erica said dryly, cracking a tiny smirk.

They jumped off the wagon.

Ahead, red-eyed White Wolves bared their fangs.

"You ready?" Pyra asked.

"Always."

Erica reached into her pouch and pulled out a mid-tier Mana Stone—recently purchased in the city.

A channel of magic flared through her body.

'Rise, Ignis.'

Fwoooosh!

A great firebird emerged from swirling light, its blue wings stretching wide in defiance of winter's chill.

SKREEEE!

Ignis cried out, flame bursting skyward.

"Let's go, Ignis! Firebolt!"

Vrrrrooom!

Magic circles spiraled around Ignis, then launched into dozens of blazing blue bolts.

Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

Wolves howled as the fire engulfed them, burning flesh and fur alike.

The mercenaries could only stare.

"Whistleee~" Pyra whistled, impressed.

"You've grown, kid."

She gently patted Erica's head with a proud smile.