"Hit back tenfold if you're struck even once," my mother always said. But I haven't been hit yet.

So, I decided to wait just a little longer until my opponent made the first move. I was curious too—this was my first time facing a mage, after all.

But I didn't plan on waiting this long.

With growing frustration, I watched the woman.

"O Spirit of Fire, fury of the gods who have descended upon this land, heed my call. Empower me with the flames, allow me to summon fire from within. Grant me a sword of flame to wield at my command. O Spirit of Fire, fill my soul with the fire's blaze…"

Her incantation was long. Too long.

There wasn't even the faintest spark in her palm, not even a matchstick’s flicker. All I saw were occasional static sparks.

Yet the spell continued.

It wasn’t ending.

I didn't know if this woman was weak or if all mages were like this, but if every battle was interrupted like this, they'd all be wiped out. No one would wait for a spell to finish during a fight.

Maybe mages weren’t meant for combat at all. Maybe their role was more of a desk job, strictly research.

Either way, my patience had run thin.

“Seriously, how long does it take to cast a single spell? You could spend your whole life reciting and still not be done. When is this going to end?”

At my irritated outburst, the woman’s face flushed bright red.

“You… you…”

She pointed at me, her mouth opening and closing, trying to form words, but she was too angry to speak coherently.

“I’m going to kill you.”

With that, she began chanting again.

“O Spirit of Fire, fury of the gods who have descended upon this land, heed my call. Empower me with the flames…”

Was she really starting from the beginning?

It seemed like if you stopped halfway, you had to start all over again.

Sigh.

When I sighed, her eyes narrowed into slits, glaring at me like a snake. But she didn’t stop chanting—probably because if she did, she’d have to start from scratch again.

This spell was endless.

How much longer would it go on?

“Enough. I thought I’d wait until you struck first, but if I keep waiting, I’ll die of old age.”

I moved my axe, and the men standing behind her paled, shouting in fear.

“W-wait! Please, just a moment!”

“Hold on! W-wait!”

They must have been her guards, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

Let’s just say that the moment she started chanting, the attack had already begun.

As I raised my axe into the air, a guild staff member, his face drained of color, cried out.

“R-Rafa! Wait! That’s Lady Dusty, the daughter of Count Dusty! You can’t kill her!”

"…"

You should have told me that earlier.

If I’d known, I could have ended this more diplomatically. But what can I do now? The axe was already lifted. There’s no stopping it.

My mother always said, "If you draw your sword, you should at least smash a rock with it."

Sigh.

Looks like I’m destined to follow in my mother’s footsteps—escaping into the forest as a bandit bride.

With a resigned sigh, I swung the axe downward.

At that moment, a thunderous shout rang through the air.

“Stop right there!”

Good! Whoever that was, they’d just saved me from a messy situation.

Grateful for the interruption, I diverted my axe mid-swing. It sliced through the air right in front of the woman's face, sending a gust of wind her way.

The force of the wind knocked her enormous hat right off her head.

Apparently, her hat wasn't just sitting there; it had been pinned in place with something. When the hat flew off, it took some of her hair with it.

“Kyah!”

She stumbled back, clutching her head with both hands. It almost looked like her hair had been pulled out along with the hat.

Any harder, and her whole scalp might have come off.

“...”

Women in this world seem to live dangerously. Their outfits and accessories are practically weapons.

Thanks to the men behind her catching her in time, she narrowly avoided breaking her neck or falling over. Yet instead of being grateful, she only scolded them for failing to protect her properly.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the men who had to follow her around. Whether in this life or the last, making a living really is hard.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Anyway, the real focus right now was the new voice that had interrupted me.

Whoever they were, they had just saved me from killing a noble. I owed them a silent thanks.

Of course, I couldn't show it on my face, so I just scowled in the direction of the voice.

A young man stood there, panting heavily as if he had sprinted over. He looked young, and his face resembled the woman’s.

A servant or bodyguard, who had been standing by the woman earlier, stood behind him, also out of breath.

The woman had disappeared from my side while she was causing trouble. She must have gone to inform him.

Well done, whoever you are. I owe you a favor. If you ever get in trouble and it involves me, I'll look the other way once.

The young man, having caught his breath, approached me.

“Sister!”

The woman’s face lit up instantly.

I had suspected they were siblings the moment I noticed how much they looked alike, and now it was confirmed. So instead of killing the woman, was I supposed to kill her brother instead?

If that happened, the end result would still be the same. I'd have to run off to the forest like my mother, living as an outlaw bride.

Sigh.

The faint hope I had of resolving this peacefully vanished, and my face hardened in disappointment.

Damn it.

All of this trouble was because of that woman.

I tightened my grip on the axe, watching the woman run toward her brother while he walked calmly toward me.

Damn it, I’ll kill them all!

My mind was screaming.

The woman clung to her brother’s arm, sobbing.

“Brother, listen to me! That barbarian…”

Her tears fell in large drops.

The brother’s face grew stern as he glanced at her.

“Rira, silence!”

“B-brother?”

“We’ll talk later. Step back for now.”

“...”

The man removed his gaze from his sister and turned it toward me, offering a polite bow.

“Pleased to meet you. I am Paul, the son of Count Dusty and the leader of this expedition.”

He was far too polite to someone everyone called a “barbarian.”

Feeling a bit uneasy, I guardedly returned his greeting with a slight nod.

“I am Rafa, a warrior from the Enorthos Autonomous Region.”

Paul’s expression flickered with surprise.

“Your accent… Did you learn our language from a noble? You speak with the tone of nobility.”

"…"

I had learned it from my father, so naturally, my accent reflected that. Even though I had tried to mimic common speech after leaving the forest, I'd have done a decent job blending in.

I guess this man’s ears were sharper than most.

Seeing me remain silent, Paul didn’t press the issue and instead moved on.

“From what I saw earlier, it seems you use wind magic, don’t you?”

The moment he said that, the crowd around us gasped in shock.

“Wind magic? From a barbarian?”

“But isn’t he a savage? There’s no way a barbarian could use magic.”

“Right, maybe his axe swing was just so powerful it created a gust.”

Their reactions were strange.

"…"

I’d never kept my wind magic a secret. I had used it openly in front of others, and no one had ever reacted like this before. No one had ever made a fuss, so I didn’t think it was anything special.

But judging by the people’s reactions and Paul’s specific question, I started to wonder if people simply hadn’t realized that I was using magic.

Maybe Enorthos people weren’t supposed to use magic.

Maybe, like that woman Rira, I was supposed to chant long incantations to cast spells.

Still, my mother and father hadn’t said anything about it when I left the forest. They never warned me not to use magic in public, or to chant incantations.

"…"

But now that I thought about it, maybe there was some taboo around it that my parents hadn’t told me about either.

Mother, Father, you’re raising your only son to be far too tough.

Could it be that Enortos people get hunted as witches for using magic?

What do I say now?

While I hesitated, Rira cut in with a sharp voice.

“Brother! What are you talking about? There's no way that savage could use wind magic…”

In that instant, Paul turned and slapped her across the face with all his strength.

Rira nearly toppled over, staring at her brother in shock.

She was so stunned, she probably didn’t even feel the pain.

“B-brother?”

“I told you to be quiet. We’ll talk later. Do you even understand what you've done? Defying Father’s orders, meddling in the guild’s affairs, and now using magic in a fight? Do you realize the damage you’ve caused? I warned you before we left about what could happen if tensions rose between our estate and the guild, especially this close to the Forest of Magic.”

“B-but…”

“Silence!”

Rira fell silent, tears streaming from her eyes like drops of rain. The makeup on her face mixed with the tears, smearing her cheeks with streaks of messy color.

"…"

I was a bit taken aback myself. I hadn’t expected Paul to hit her so suddenly.

Paul, however, paid no attention to his crying sister. He turned back to me, giving a slight nod of acknowledgment. His face remained stern, but his gesture was one of subtle apology. Though it wasn’t a full bow, the angle of his head suggested he was offering a quiet form of reconciliation.

With a calm but slightly strained smile, Paul addressed me.

“Rafa, I sincerely apologize for my sister’s behavior. I will see to it that she receives the necessary reprimand.”

He wasn’t exactly bowing in a traditional sense, but this was apparently how nobles offered their apologies—indirect and understated. I realized this was what my father used to talk about: the "subtle art of noble etiquette."

I glanced at Rira. She was glaring at me, her eyes filled with hatred as tears still streamed down her face. She clearly thought she had been slapped because of me.

But really, she had been hit because of her own actions. Paul’s earlier words made that quite clear.

Still, thanks to Paul, I was spared from having to kill a noble today, and for that, I was thankful. I had no desire to cause more trouble by killing someone of high status.

At that moment, a guild staff member stepped forward, sensing an opportunity to smooth things over.

“Rafa, perhaps now would be a good time to let this matter rest? Sir Paul has already expressed his concern, and it seems we’re all in agreement that further conflict would only cause unnecessary complications.”

The guild member’s diplomatic tone suggested he had seen this kind of tension before. I appreciated the way he framed it, making it easier for me to agree without losing face. I nodded, pretending to relent.

“Perhaps I was a bit too harsh myself,” I replied. “It would be best to let this incident go.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Rafa,” Paul said, his smile widening slightly, clearly relieved.

The tension in the air began to dissipate. Paul, eager to change the subject, returned to the topic from before.

“I must say, Rafa, your use of wind magic earlier was quite surprising. I’ve never seen an Enorthos warrior wield magic before. You didn’t mention being a mage in your application for this mission.”

At this, the guild staff member quickly jumped in, trying to explain.

“I’m terribly sorry! There must have been a mistake in the paperwork. I’ll make sure to correct the records immediately. I hope that won’t cause any issues?”

Paul nodded, still looking at me.

“Of course, no problem at all. I was just surprised. A mage in our ranks will be invaluable for the upcoming expedition, especially against the dragons.”

The guild staffer bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Sir Paul, for your understanding.”

With that, the conversation came to a close. Paul, still holding his sister by the arm, gave me one last respectful nod before leading her away. She threw one last venomous glance in my direction, but I paid her no mind. She was fortunate to be walking away alive.

Once Paul and his entourage were gone, the guild staff member hurriedly ushered me to a quiet corner, away from the others.

“Rafa! Was that really wind magic you used earlier? Was Paul correct?” His eyes were wide with excitement, as though he had just discovered something extraordinary.

He was practically spitting with enthusiasm, and I had to raise my hand to block the spray of his words. With a slight nod, I confirmed it.

“Yes, it was wind magic.”

The guild staffer’s face lit up with joy.

“This is excellent news! It means we can renegotiate your terms. Since we have no other mages on this expedition, we can argue for a special fee for your services! It’s perfect timing, as we haven’t yet finalized the paperwork.”

He was already calculating in his head, muttering to himself about the possibilities. Then, as if suddenly realizing something, he looked back up at me, eyes gleaming.

“You really are an unusual person, Rafa. Fluent in the common tongue and our language, calm under pressure, and on top of that, a mage! You’re nothing like the other Enorthos people we’ve encountered.”

Well, that’s because I’m not.

As I shrugged, he burst into laughter, clearly pleased with himself.

“Good thing you're not like that infamous Helga we keep hearing about. They say she’s left a trail of destruction in every town she’s passed through. People say it’s like a war broke out wherever she’s been.”

The staffer shuddered dramatically, his expression turning somber.

"…"

I felt a pang of guilt.

Sorry, but that person is my mother.

Sigh.

I couldn’t help but let out a small, resigned sigh.