"A-Ah... what just happened...?"
Erica stumbled backward in a panic, her face Contorted with fear, the Ancient Catalyst disintegrated into shimmering dust, vanished into thin air as if it had never existed.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Hm..."
Alvarez simply let out a low hum, his expression calm yet filled with curiosity.
"Erica, what did you do?"
Pyra's voice sharpened, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to read past Erica's words.
"I-I just touched it for a second… then suddenly… it just turned to dust!"
Erica answered quickly, her voice trembling.
"Eri, are you okay…?"
Haluti stepped closer, eyes scanning her from head to toe with worry.
"Hm. Well, whatever."
Alvarez interjected, attempting to defuse the tension.
"Maybe the artifact was already unstable… or just a fake. No need to dwell on it too much."
"Hey everyone!"
Daniel entered from the corridor with Ragnar and several others behind him. His face lit with excitement.
"We found a few more magical artifacts—a cloak, a staff, and some mana crystals. Looks like they're still active."
"...What happened here?" Ragnar asked, noticing the tense expressions.
"Oh? Nothing much. We thought we found something incredible, but it turned out to be a fake. Disintegrated on contact," Alvarez chuckled lightly.
"Yeah… stuff like that happens in ruins," Daniel added casually. "Some treasure chests are even laced with dangerous traps."
"Good thing no one got hurt," Haluti exhaled deeply, clutching her chest in relief. The loose robe she wore slipped slightly with the movement—briefly revealing more than intended.
Clay noticed.
Then quickly turned his head away, flustered.
"Hmph. Erica, be more careful next time. Don't just touch random things."
"Y-Yeah... I know," Erica replied, defeated.
"Clay, don't be so harsh!"
Haluti scowled, her eyes narrowing like she was ready to cast a hex.
"Hmph."
Clay turned his gaze aside, uninterested in arguing.
"Alright, let's pack everything up and prepare to leave this place," Pyra ordered, her tone firm.
"Pff!"
Alvarez stifled a laugh at the group's antics. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he turned and walked toward the far side of the chamber.
"Daniel, help me gather these artifacts. Let's get out before this place really collapses."
"Got it!"
Daniel followed, and Ragnar cast one last glance toward Erica before walking off with them. The rest of the party began preparing to return to the surface.
DING!
[Absorption process complete]
[System will now update. Please wait…]
Ugh… stupid system.
Erica muttered internally, her face calm but her mind swirling in irritation.
At least they didn't suspect me… or worse, ask me to replace that thing.
She took a slow breath, forcing her heartbeat to settle.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she followed the others.
Meanwhile…
Outside the ruins, not far from the adventurers' camp, a group of dark-robed figures observed from behind the misty trees and mossy rocks.
"Hehehe… everything's going according to plan."
One of the Black Mages grinned.
"Once they come out tired and worn, we wipe them out."
"Make sure there are no survivors. If this works, Archbishop Niru will reward us—maybe even with a cursed artifact."
JLEB!
"Arghh…!"
A black arrow pierced deep into one mage's back. He fell with a scream of agony.
"Wh-who—?!"
On a low ridge overlooking the ruins stood a young woman with long, wavy chestnut-red hair. Her eyes—bright crimson—glared down the sight of a sleek black compound bow.
"...Miss, your archery continues to improve impressively,"
murmured one of Elara's subordinates beside her, clad in a deep blue cloak.
Elara didn't reply immediately. She stared down at the arrow she had just loosed, a thin smile forming on her lips.
"Hmph… I suppose that boy was worth the outrageous price he asked."
She looked down at the bow—sleek, mechanical, and unlike any traditional design. A compound bow with gear-like wheels and metal tension strings.
"Should I… give him a bonus?" she whispered, clearly not meaning it.
"Miss," her attendant spoke again, this time more cautiously,
"Perhaps it's time you considered your engagement. The second son of that northeastern Marquess is still a viable candidate."
Elara scowled.
"Ugh… that perverted creep…"
She rubbed her temple, recalling the awkward conversation with the eccentric young man who had sold her the bow.
She'd never forget how he talked about firing rate and arrow penetration while staring at her chest.
"Do you not have any better suggestions? One who doesn't start a conversation with physics and perversion?"
"Hmm… not at the moment, Miss."
The man smirked slightly, amused.
Elara exhaled, then turned her eyes back toward the woods.
"Enough talking. Eliminate every rat who dares sneak into my hunt."
"Yes, ma'am. Troops—move in!"
From behind tents and stone outcroppings, elite soldiers bearing the Vance family crest emerged—fully armed and perfectly coordinated.
Elara had known about the enemy's movements long before this.
Now, the ambushers would become the ambushed.
"Let's see who's hunting who now…"
She drew another arrow, eyes glowing with icy determination.
"Cheers!"
"Yeah!"
Around the campfire that night, laughter filled the air as mercenaries and adventurers celebrated their victory. Meat roasted, drinks flowed, and joy blanketed the cold winter night.
While others enjoyed the feast, Alvarez's party helped a young priest tend to the injured. Pyra, too, stayed behind—not for duty, but because she wanted to remain close to Alvarez.
"Thank you for your help, Sir Alvarez."
The young priest bowed respectfully.
"It's nothing. Those who fight deserve care. That includes you."
The priest smiled shyly, rubbing his nose like a kid after a compliment.
"You're a true Knight," Pyra added gently.
"Hardly. Just doing my part," Alvarez replied, shrugging.
"Most people of your caliber wouldn't bother with this kind of work," Pyra continued, arms crossed beneath her chest—accidentally emphasizing her figure.
Khum.
Alvarez coughed, briefly averting his gaze.
"Sometimes small things matter more than we realize," he said.
"And I appreciate what you did for me in the past. If you ever visit the Red Tower, I might have… a reward for you," Pyra said, voice somewhere between formal and flirtatious.
"I'll think about it," Alvarez answered.
Meanwhile, Clay and Haluti were chatting by the fire, laughing between bites of grilled meat.
Erica, however, sat alone beneath a snow-dusted tree.
[System Update: Loading…]
She stared at the panel still updating. Hugging her knees, she leaned against the bark.
Crunch.
Footsteps approached through the snow.
"Hey."
She looked up. Ragnar Stellhart stood before her, twin blades on his back, lit faintly by moonlight.
Why is this guy here…?
"Yeah? What do you want?" she asked coolly.
She knew too well—interacting with main story characters this early could twist the plot beyond repair.
"I wanted to return this. You dropped it earlier."
He held out a small red stone.
"Oh, thanks."
Erica took it.
It was the Summoner Stone her grandmother had given her—now just an ordinary relic since her contract with Ignis had activated.
But it still meant a lot.
"Your name's Erica, right? Nice to meet you. I'm Ragnar. My father leads the Stellhart Mercenaries."
"Yeah, nice to meet you."
Why is he being so polite? The Ragnar I know is loud and always picking fights… Is he sick? Did someone drug him? I don't want to get tangled up in a love triangle between him, Elara, and the heroine…
"Mind if I send a letter to the Red Tower sometime?" Ragnar asked, extending his hand.
"NO!"
Erica shot up and ran off toward Clay and Haluti without another word, leaving Ragnar behind, hand still in the air.
"Hmm… interesting girl."
He looked down at his hand, then watched her run.
"Pffft..."
"Well, looks like someone just got rejected."
Alvarez strolled over, smirking.
"Shut up," Ragnar muttered.
"Need advice? I've got a few tricks."
Alvarez nudged him with a grin.
The next morning, inside Elara's ornate tent, the mages sat around a warm, tea-scented room.
"Since your task is complete, I'll send your remaining payment to the Red Tower in a few days," Elara said, legs crossed with effortless elegance.
"If you have questions, I'll answer what I can."
Erica kept silent, fingers brushing the Summoner Stone on her chest.
Clay and Pyra nodded respectfully.
But of course—
"Um, Miss Elara, may I ask something?" Haluti raised her hand.
"You may."
"It's about the novel 'Warrior and a Little Bird', I want to send a letter to the author. Just to express my… feelings."
Erica almost snorted, knowing exactly what 'feelings' Haluti meant.
Elara smiled faintly.
"You can send it through the Vance Trading Company. The author prefers to remain anonymous."
"Aww… I was hoping to meet them someday…" Haluti pouted.
"But I've heard Volume Two is in progress. Supposedly with a happier ending."
Haluti's eyes sparkled.
"Really!? I'll wait for it—no matter how long it takes!"
"I'll read it too," Pyra added.
"That story… does have its charm.
Erica sighed deeply.
As the meeting ended, they exchanged farewells.
Snow began to fall softly again—light and beautiful, as if bidding them goodbye.
The Red Tower party began their return journey. A small cart carried their supplies, drawn by two black horses, while the mages walked beside it.
"So, we're going home," Erica murmured, gazing at the sky.
"Yup! And we'll train hard before next semester!" Haluti grinned.
"Don't get too comfortable," Clay warned. "The Academy isn't a playground."
"I know~ But I just really want to wear the uniform!"
Erica closed her eyes for a moment.
In her mind, she imagined the grand Academy of Magic—the one she'd only seen on a screen.
Tharsaros, Year 500. Spring is coming… and so is the beginning of the main story.