14. Invite To Raid The Ruins

Pyra Heliosta was magic incarnate—powerful, mysterious, and mesmerizing with every movement. Her fiery red hair flowed like an eternal flame dancing through a storm, untamed and scorching.

Her skin, pale as moonlit marble, contrasted with her sharp gaze—eyes that seemed to burn with embers from within.

Her figure—full and mature, as if sculpted by fire itself—left many unable to look away.

But beneath that beauty was immense power—the might of an Elemental Sorcerer.

As the direct successor to the Master of the Red Tower, Pyra was the subject of countless noblemen's dreams. Silk-robed heirs with polished boots often tried to court her, only to be met with frosty rejection—or sometimes, searing humiliation.

Pyra was not a woman to be touched, much less conquered.

Her guarded nature—even toward fellow mages—earned her a reputation for arrogance.

But those who knew her well… knew she was a loyal protector, a patient mentor, and a quiet warmth strong enough to melt any winter.

Though admired and respected within the Red Tower, Pyra was no goddess, no myth.

She was a woman—with secrets hidden beneath the folds of her long robe.

"Hehehe… finally, I got it."

Pyra giggled quietly as she pulled open a secret drawer beneath her desk.

In her hands was a freshly bound book with an elegant cover—illustrated with a handsome knight lifting a noble lady from a puddle, set against a backdrop of a grand castle and fluttering flower petals.

At first glance, it looked like an ordinary romantic novel.

But it wasn't.

It was an adult fantasy novel. A spicy tale filled with explicit romantic tension—targeted at young noblewomen.

And Pyra… was secretly a fan.

Ever since that fateful rescue a year ago by the Knight named Alvarez, she'd developed a strange fascination with heroic tales—especially ones featuring complicated relationships between noble ladies and stoic Warriors.

Novels were nothing new in this world.

But in recent months, a new trend had emerged: illustrated novels.

Stylish, elegant… and sometimes, a little daring.

"I think I'll just skip to the good part…" Pyra murmured, her cheeks tinged pink as she opened the first page.

SLAM!

The door burst open.

"Kyaah!!"

Pyra yelped, nearly dropping her book.

"Pyra! Important news!!"

Erica barged in, panting, her face serious—and a bit panicked.

"…What's that you're holding?" Erica's eyes drifted downward, catching a glimpse of the book Pyra hastily shoved back into the drawer.

"Erica… how many times do I have to tell you? Knock first!!" Pyra snapped, flustered.

"That's not 'nothing,' is it?" Erica squinted suspiciously, folding her arms.

"Your face is red… Don't tell me it's another one of those picture books."

"It's not what you think! I mean—it's just light reading! Fantasy, that's all!" Pyra turned away, pretending to organize her desk.

Erica sighed, then flopped into the nearby chair.

"Anyway, because I know you have weird taste, I'm here to ask for help."

Pyra turned, one brow raised.

"Help with what? Don't tell me… it's about mana stones again?"

Erica gave a slow nod and leaned in.

"I'm dead broke, Pyra. I can't even afford low-tier stones anymore. But… Haluti told me about a major expedition to some mysterious ruins in the southeast."

"Oh~ that?" Pyra smiled slyly, pulling a sealed letter from her drawer with a dramatic flourish.

"Ta-da. I've already received an official invitation from the Eastern Duke's family."

"…Wait, not from the South?"

Pyra nodded.

She walked to the window and pulled the curtain open, letting the morning light flood in.

"The ruins were discovered on the border between the Eastern and Southern Dukedoms—deep in the southeastern forest. So, both territories decided on a joint expedition."

"…Ancient ruins…" Erica muttered. "That's not just a normal Dungeon, is it?"

"No." Pyra turned back, eyes serious.

"Dungeons can appear anywhere. But Ancient Ruins? They're relics from a nearly forgotten era—often built by Archmages of the past. Some hold ancient artifacts, or magic systems no longer known in our time."

Erica swallowed hard. Her heart pounded with excitement—especially when Pyra added:

"The Eastern faction offered higher pay. And if we find anything valuable, the Valerius family will pay top gold for it—more than any southern noble ever would."

Erica paused, her thoughts spinning.

'Duke Valerius… That's his domain. If I remember right, it's the home of a certain character…'

She shook her head quickly.

'No. Stay calm. This is still before the main story begins. No way I'll meet him this early… Besides, I'm not the heroine of that stupid game.'

With a determined grin, Erica clenched her fist.

"Then it's decided! Let's go hunt for treasure!"

Pyra smirked in approval.

"Good. Go get Clay and Haluti ready. We leave tomorrow morning with the eastern convoy—departing through the east gate."

____

Clang!

The ring of steel echoed across the training field near the expedition camp.

Evening had fallen, but two figures stood locked in combat—watched by a circle of mercenaries and adventurers.

Sir Alvarez stood firm, white armor glowing under the sunset.

His red cloak fluttered behind him like a banner of war.

Clang!

Ragnar's sword flew from his hands.

"Huff… Huff…"

He dropped to one knee, panting hard.

"You done?" Alvarez asked, pointing his sword at the boy calmly.

"Damn it… Ten rounds and I didn't win once," Ragnar groaned, his tone half-frustrated, half-admiring.

They had been sparring for hours.

And the difference in strength was overwhelming.

"You're strong for your age," Alvarez said with a chuckle.

"Keep training. Maybe in a few years, you'll scratch my armor."

"Tch… So the rumors about you defeating a Black Mage weren't exaggerated after all."

"As you can see."

Alvarez lowered his sword and turned.

The evening light reflected off the steel as he walked away.

Around them, whispers grew louder—voices filled with awe and admiration.

"Did you see that? He didn't even break a sweat!"

"Told you! Now you believe me?"

The one who spoke was none other than Daniel—massive sword on his back, grinning wide.

"I saw it with my own eyes last year! We got ambushed by a Minotaur in the western valley… It nearly killed us all. But him? One swing—and that thing flew like a ragdoll!"

"No way! You were there?!"

"Of course! The ground's still cracked from that hit!"

Adventurers gathered around, hanging on his every word.

"They say he travels with two others now. One Gold-ranked, the other Silver. Together, they took down an Orc Champion's camp—without a single scratch."

"No way…"

"Seriously?!"

Some shook their heads in disbelief, others laughed nervously.

But all of them understood one thing:

Sir Alvarez was not just a rumor.

Ragnar stood, brushing dust from his trousers.

His eyes followed Alvarez's back as the Knight walked away.

'Damn… But that guy is the real deal.'

Ragnar clenched his fists.

Strangely, he didn't feel humiliated.

Instead—his heart burned.

Not with defeat.

But with motivation.

"…Alvarez. One day, I'll catch up to you. I'll stand as your equal."

His voice was barely a whisper—heard only by the cold evening wind.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Heavy footsteps entered the main tent—lined with thick canvas and reinforced by basic enchantments.

The last rays of sunlight glinted off Sir Alvarez's armor as he stepped inside.

Sitting by the fire was a man in dull brown armor, a round shield and massive hammer strapped to his back.

His full helmet covered his face entirely.

"Meow!. You're back, Young Master?"

Thunk!

Alvarez tapped Hansel's helmet with the flat of his blade.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't call me 'Young Master' during missions."

"S-Sorry, sir!!" Hansel straightened instantly, like a kid caught stealing from the kitchen,

Alvarez sighed.

"Where's Gretel?"

Hansel pointed outside.

"She said… she's chasing a butterfly. Nya~"