The road out of Ignis felt heavier than I expected.
Maybe it was the silence.
Maybe it was the cold wind howling across the empty plains.
Or maybe it was simply the weight of leaving everything behind.
Lionhearth was approximately 500 kilometers away.
A kingdom so distant it might as well have been a miracle to make it in one piece. .
The apprentices' exam was still weeks out, but even that didn't make the journey feel any shorter.
Each step felt like the world was testing me.
I noticed the scent before I saw them—
A heavy, metallic odor that clung to the air like blood soaked into soil.
Then came the growls.
Three… four… no, five pairs of glowing yellow eyes appeared between the trees.
Dire wolves.
Not the fragile, skinny alley wolves of Ignis—
These were monsters.
Larger.
Faster.
Built like they'd crawled straight out of someone's nightmare.
I tightened my grip on my sword.
No aura.
Barely any techniques.
Only basics… only what Zenite drilled into me.
One lunged first.
Its claws grazed my cheek, but I pivoted, blade flashing through the air like a falling raindrop, slicing through its neck.
The others circled.
I didn't fight all five at once.
That would've been suicide, even for someone stronger than me.
So I moved.
I slid back, forcing one wolf to charge ahead of the pack.
Isolate.
Strike.
Move.
My instincts took over.
My sword flowed—not hesitating, not clashing, just cutting through air as smoothly as water breaks over stone.
Downstroke—
Counterstep—
Parry—
Thrust—
Like rainfall, Zenite had said.
I didn't have an aura yet or any life force resonating within me whether it was mana, or evocation.
But my motions were starting to feel alive.
It took minutes.
Maybe less.
But when the last dire wolf collapsed with a whimper, blood steaming on the dirt, I found myself barely winded.
I stared at the bodies.
…Was that supposed to be difficult?
I wouldn't realize until much later that a normal adult would have barely survived against even one.
I continued down the road, wiping wolf blood from my blade, when I spotted it:
A large wooden caravan stopped at the roadside, surrounded by armored escorts.
They noticed me instantly.
Five guards drew their weapons.
Three stepped forward with shields.
The rest aimed crossbows.
One of them shouted,
"STOP RIGHT THERE, BANDIT!"
Bandit?
I glanced down at myself.
Ragged hand-stitched clothes.
Dusty boots.
Blood spattered across my shirt.
…Okay, fair enough.
But still annoying.
When they rushed at me, I didn't think.
I simply reacted.
My sword flicked out—
Metal clanged—
And in less than three breaths, I had disarmed three of them.
Their swords lay scattered.
One guard held his wrist like it had been struck by lightning.
Another stared at me in disbelief.
"I'm not a bandit," I said calmly, lowering my blade.
"And I'd prefer not to kill anyone today."
A voice called from inside the caravan.
"Is that so, boy?"
Out stepped a broad-shouldered man with graying hair tied neatly behind him.
His clothing was too fine, too clean for the slums—
A noble.
Beside him stood a girl about fifteen, dressed in an elegant traveling gown, her expression twisted in immediate disgust.
She looked me up and down like staring at a rotting rat.
"Father," she muttered, "He reeks."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
The man gave her a warning glare before addressing me.
"My apologies for the hostility. I am Sullivan Black, merchant of the Blackwine Consortium. This is my daughter, Elise."
I nodded.
"Rain."
Sullivan continued,
"We're traveling from Ignis to the Kingdom of Zenonva. I assure you, we are no threat to you. We merely feared you were another slum-born bandit."
"I told you," I repeated, "I'm not a bandit."
He studied me for a moment, eyes flicking to the dire wolf blood on my sword.
Something in his expression shifted.
"Those dire wolves over there… was that your doing?"
"Yes."
Even Elise looked surprised at that.
Sullivan exhaled slowly, then smiled as if coming to a decision.
"Rain, I must ask—where are you headed, traveling alone at your age?"
"To Lionhearth," I said simply.
The reaction was immediate.
The guards tensed.
Sullivan raised a brow.
Elise actually choked.
"You?" she hissed. "Lionhearth? The capital of knights? You?"
Her disbelief burned hotter than fire, but I ignored her.
Sullivan stroked his beard, intrigued.
"That is quite the journey. Tell me—do you plan to take the knight apprentice exam?"
I nodded.
This time, even the guards looked stunned.
After a long moment, Sullivan clapped his hands decisively.
"In that case, I have a request. Escort us to Zenonva.
It lies on the same road that leads to Lionhearth, and you will reach your destination safely—and compensated."
He pulled a small pouch from his coat.
Even without touching it, I could hear coins clinking.
Silver.
A lot of it.
"Consider this payment upon arrival," Sullivan said. "We would feel much safer under the protection of someone capable of killing dire wolves."
I hesitated.
Zenonva was indeed on the way.
And silver… I needed silver.
For travel.
For lodging.
For food.
For repairing my sword.
And these people—
aside from his daughter's mouth—
weren't bad.
I sheathed my blade.
"…Fine. I'll escort you."
Sullivan grinned.
Elise groaned.
And just like that—
My journey toward Lionhearth became a journey toward Zenonva first.
My first step into a world far larger than anything I had known.