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Inside the hurriedly-constructed lab nestled in the mountains, Gart was assigned as the lead supervisor, responsible for keeping Balehorn secure and preventing any uncontrolled rampage. The lab was simple—just a cluster of devices and tools set up in an open area, with the larger part of the space reserved for the beast itself.
As a covert operation, the lab was guarded by hunters tasked with keeping intruders out. But today, they hadn’t succeeded.
While Gart reviewed Balehorn’s latest behavior report, a fellow alchemist approached him, looking anxious.
“Excuse me, Mr. Gart.”
“Yes?”
“We… we have two intruders in the vicinity.”
“What about the guards outside?”
“T-they couldn’t stop them, sir.”
“Why not?”
The alchemist hesitated. “Because one of them was Arthur Pelladia… and the other was Renn Veledot, sir.”
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After hours trekking through mountain paths, the Mana signal grew clearer, guiding Renn and Arthur into a large clearing where Balehorn loomed on the other side, its intense yellow eyes locked onto them.
The ground was damp and a deep, almost black shade of brown, sticking to Renn’s boots with each step. Scattered all over the area, Balehorn’s massive footprints sank into the soil, each one pressed deep, the shape clearly marking where the beast had walked on. Some prints were already softened by moisture, the edges blurred as if the earth itself was trying to reclaim them.
Though the area felt cleared and altered in places, nature had quietly taken back much of it. Thick moss blanketed patches of earth and crawled up rocks and nearby trees, giving the space an earthy, untouched scent. It seemed that only the bare minimum had been done to clear the area—just enough to fit a presence as big as Balehorn’s without truly disturbing the forest’s ancient hold.
“That’s it, right?” Arthur murmured, eyeing the massive creature.
“Yeah... but something’s off.” Renn narrowed her gaze, noting the absence of restraints or tools holding it back. “Are they really just letting it roam around?”
Despite Balehorn’s towering presence, it made no move to attack. Instead, it watched Renn, its body tense yet oddly submissive. With its intelligence, it could sense the overwhelming Mana coursing through her, signaling her presence long before she’d arrived.
Renn took a cautious step forward, her curiosity piqued, while Arthur kept close.
The creature looked unchanged—muscular, reddish skin, bull-like head, barbed tail—but something about it felt different. She lowered her staff and reached a hand toward it.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, offering a small smile. “I just came to check on you.”
To her surprise, Balehorn slowly relaxed. Its humanoid shape looked almost timid—a strange sight in a creature of its size and strength.
“It understands you?” Arthur whispered, staring at the scene in awe.
“No,” Renn replied, keeping her gaze on Balehorn. “I think it’s more… instinct. It can feel I’m not here to hurt it.”
Just then, a voice echoed from the side, making both of them—and Balehorn—turn.
“Quite the unexpected visitors,” said a man, his tone polite yet guarded.
Gart stepped forward, his white coat slightly wrinkled, orange eyes calm. He nodded with a hand over his chest. “Good day, Your Highness, Your Majesty. But I don’t believe you’re meant to be here.”
Renn studied him. Though Gart had watched her fight in Veledot’s underground arena, she’d never seen him until now.
“I was worried about Balehorn’s handling, so I came to see for myself,” she said, glancing back at the beast.
The creature seemed far more subdued than it had been four months ago. Evidently, it had become accustomed to people.
“Ah, I see,” Gart replied. “Well, as you can see, it’s doing fine. We’re studying its behavior closely to assess any risks it might pose.”
“How did you tame it like this?” Arthur asked, intrigued.
“That’s the odd thing,” Gart admitted, scratching his head. “We didn’t.”
“Huh?” Renn blinked in surprise.
“It’s like this on its own,” Gart explained. “Since it woke up here, it’s been docile. We think it might’ve developed a fear of humans after what happened in Veledot. In other words…”
He looked up at Balehorn, Renn and Arthur following his gaze.
“You may have traumatized the poor thing.”
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that even possible?”
Gart shrugged. “We can’t say for sure, but nothing else explains it.”
Renn kept her gaze on Balehorn, her mind racing. She remembered sensing something in it right before she’d delivered her final blow back in Veledot. But to think she’d left it with a lasting scar—it was more than she’d anticipated.
She wondered if Balehorn, born in a lab, had never shared the bloodthirst of other monsters. Maybe back then, it had only been… curious.
“Anyway,” Gart said, breaking the silence. “If that’s all you’re here for, I suggest you leave. Even people of your status can’t dodge the consequences of intruding into restricted areas.” He smiled, though his words held a clear warning.
Arthur clenched his jaw, glancing at Renn. “Let’s go. We’re done here.”
Renn gave Balehorn one last look, her worry lingering, but here, her presence was unwelcome. After a tense pause, she nodded. “Right.”
As the duo turned to leave, another alchemist appeared, gesturing for them to follow, escorting them out of the lab’s boundaries. Only when they’d disappeared from view did Gart exhale, his relief palpable. He hadn’t expected their sudden appearance, but he managed to stay calm, ensuring they believed this was a legitimate lab.
“Now then,” he muttered, shifting his gaze back to Balehorn. “Let’s continue our experiment. The patron is eager to see what you’re capable of, Balehorn.”
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Back in Pelladia, Arthur excused himself to the royal palace, leaving Renn to resume her search. Her next stop was Marko’s blacksmith shop, hoping he might have information on the “master craftsman” she was looking for.
Inside, Marko was busy at work, but he welcomed her with a smile. They stood near the shop’s front, the sounds of clinking metal filling the air as they spoke.
“A master craftsman is one of the descendants?” Marko repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Renn nodded. “Since you forged Esperanza, I thought you might know someone who fits that description.”
Marko crossed his arms, considering her words. “Well… there are a few other people crafting weapons for Alchemist Corp around here. But usually, it’s the hunter who gains fame, not the weapon maker—unless it’s a custom piece. Even then, the user often overshadows the creator.”
Renn’s shoulders slumped a bit, her initial hope fading. Malikah’s reading had narrowed down her search, but “master craftsman” was still too vague. Smithing might not even be involved.
Just then, the door swung open, and Jess bounded in from an errand, her face lighting up at the sight of Renn. “Big sis Renn!” she squealed, running over to hug her waist.
“Whoa!” Renn laughed, taken by surprise, but she gently returned Jess’s embrace, her earlier worry momentarily forgotten.
“Perfect timing,” Marko said, his eyes twinkling. “Why don’t you take Jess along and ask around Pelladia? She’s familiar with the kingdom and can show you around while you search.”
Renn glanced down at Jess, who looked up at her with eager eyes. “With Jess?”
“Yep. Two birds with one stone, right?” Marko chuckled, clearly pleased with his suggestion.
Renn smiled, giving a nod. “Thank you. I’ll borrow your daughter for a while, then.”
With a polite bow, Renn left the shop, Jess skipping along beside her, excitement in every step.
“Okay! Leave it to me—I’ll be your best guide in all of Pelladia!” Jess declared, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
“Alright,” Renn replied, trying not to let her own determination waver. “But remember, we’re looking for a renowned master craftsman.”
And so, they set off, stopping by shops, asking townfolk, and visiting even the smallest corners of the kingdom. Despite the lack of leads, the duo pressed on, undeterred, letting curiosity and a bit of stubbornness fuel them through the city’s winding streets.
As evening descended, the sky faded into a warm orange, casting long shadows as Renn and Jess found themselves backtracking toward the blacksmith shop. Despite their exhaustion, a spark of hope lingered between them. By the time they reached Marko’s place, night had fully settled, wrapping the town in quiet.
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“We didn’t find anything at all, huh…” Jess muttered softly, staring down at the front step.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not in a rush.” Renn tried to sound upbeat, opening the door with a gentle smile. “I’ll head to the inn now. See you tomorrow—and don’t forget to listen to your dad, alright?”
“Okay… see you, big sis,” Jess replied, her reluctance clear as she disappeared into the shop. The warm light inside slowly dimmed as Renn closed the door behind her.
Outside, Renn’s cheerful expression melted. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile faded into a look of quiet frustration. She clenched her jaw, fighting back the disappointment gnawing at her, but she couldn’t let Jess see how worn down she felt.
A familiar figure was waiting nearby. Arthur leaned casually against a building, watching as Renn approached with her head down.
“Find anything this afternoon?” he asked lightly.
Renn glanced up at him, eyes narrowed in irritation, her brows pulling together. Her answer was written on her face.
Arthur straightened, raising his hands in a quick, playful surrender. “Shouldn’t have asked.”
Renn crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be in the palace, eating the best food and charming the maids?”
“Night patrol, duh.”
“You have guards for that.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t go out at night. What, is Veledot’s royalty scared of the dark?” he teased, chuckling.
But the moment he saw her saddened look, his laughter died. Realizing his misstep, he reached out, hand hovering over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
She brushed his hand off, her frown deepening. “It’s fine. Just… leave me alone, alright? I’m tired.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked away, her figure retreating into the night. Arthur opened his mouth to call after her, then sighed, clapping a hand to his forehead. “Great job, Arthur. Real smooth.”
Later, alone in her room at the inn, Renn sat curled up on the bed, hugging her knees beneath the blanket. Esperanza lay on the floor, its silver glint barely visible in the darkened room. She drew in a shaky breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Stop it…” she murmured, the words catching in her throat as tears slipped down her face, no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. “Stop crying…”
A soft sob slipped through her control, her chest tightening as memories clawed their way back to the surface. Coby’s cruel words echoed in her mind, reopening wounds she’d tried so hard to bury. She thought of her family—her grandfather’s slow, merciless poisoning, her parents’ assassination before she ever got the chance to know them. The future she had dreamed of, meeting them just once, was now forever out of reach.
She had endured so much—escaped death by a thread, saved Veledot from ruin, and earned power beyond her years. But despite all the strength she’d built, Renn was still just fifteen, both in body and heart.
Wrapped in the quiet darkness, Renn let the tears flow, letting the sadness pour out in the silence of her room. Eventually, sleep found her, carrying her into a dream, unfamiliar and unknown.
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In the fog of her dream, Renn found herself gazing over a courtyard. Soft green grass stretched out underfoot, bordered by stone walls. A handful of knights trained nearby, but their movements flickered, distorted and surreal, as if the dream itself struggled to hold them in place.
Renn’s gaze shifted on its own, like she was merely a passenger in someone else’s body. She caught sight of a man in armor and a flowing cape walking toward her, his dark blue eyes kind, his black hair rippling in a peculiar, unreal way that reminded her this was no ordinary memory.
His voice was distant, like hearing it from underwater—muddled and echoing, making the words impossible to understand. But his gestures were soft and reassuring, his hand reaching out as though to comfort her… or rather, the person whose eyes she was borrowing.
The scene suddenly dissolved, reforming into a grand bedroom within a palace, shadows pooling in the corners. The same man stood before her again, though his expression had changed; now his face was etched with worry. He extended his hand, and this time, she reached out to take it. But the hands she saw weren’t her own—they were slender, refined, hands that belonged to someone else, a young woman.
A swirling, vibrant light began to pulse from her—no, from the woman she was somehow embodying—flowing into the man’s outstretched hands. The light blurred her vision until everything dissolved into a haze.
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Renn bolted upright, heart pounding as she snapped out of the dream. Her eyes were wide, breaths shallow, and sweat trickled down her forehead and neck. She glanced down at her own trembling hands, struggling to grasp the strange, vivid vision she’d just experienced.
What was that? The thought echoed in her mind as she tried to piece together the fragments of the dream. She knew it had been a vision, but of whom, or when, or where, she had no idea.
With a quick shake of her head, she muttered, “Just a dream,” and rose from bed, stretching out the tension before starting her morning routine.
When she stepped outside, the sunlight was almost blinding, forcing her to raise a hand to shield her eyes.
“Dude, hurry up!” A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see a group of hunters rushing past her, their footsteps pounding on the cobblestone as they disappeared around a corner.
“Let’s go see him before he leaves!” one of them shouted, his voice fading as he vanished into the crowd.
Renn raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking as her gaze lingered on the corner they’d rushed toward. Just then, she noticed Arthur approaching from the opposite direction, a somewhat sheepish look on his face.
“Hey, Renn. So, about last night…” he began, scratching his head, clearly searching for the right words.
But Renn offered him a casual smile, brushing it off. “I told you, it’s fine. So, what’s going on over there?” She jerked her thumb toward the direction the hunters had run off to.
Arthur glanced back. “Oh, that? It seems he’s here for a visit again.”
“He?” Renn pressed, eyebrows drawing together.
Arthur tilted his head, looking at her in mild surprise. “The current champion, of course. Haven’t you heard of him?”
Renn shook her head, a blank expression on her face. Arthur chuckled, the tension from his earlier guilt easing. “Why don’t we go check it out too?”
He started walking, and Renn quickly fell in step beside him as they made their way to the city square.
The square was expansive, befitting the grandeur of the kingdom, with a large fountain at its center and benches dotting the area for townsfolk to rest. Today, though, it was packed with hunters and townspeople alike, all gathered in a tight cluster near the fountain. Excited chatter filled the air, and Renn found herself craning her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the person at the heart of the commotion.
Noticing Renn struggling to see past the crowd, Arthur stepped forward. With a few firm gestures and polite words, he convinced the gathered hunters and townsfolk to part, creating just enough space for them to slip through.
When they reached the front, Renn’s eyes were immediately drawn to the figure at the center of attention. A handsome man, likely in his late twenties, stood poised with a calm elegance that felt almost out of place amidst the lively square. His long, pale blue hair—nearly white—caught the morning breeze, the strands framing his face while the neatly styled bun at the back glimmered with ornate hair ornaments. His dark blue robe, patterned with intricate golden floral designs, swayed lightly with each movement, exuding an air of sophistication.
He held a book in one hand, his golden-yellow eyes scanning its pages with the sharp focus of a scholar. His long lashes fluttered slightly as he wrote something down with meticulous care, his expression unreadable but oddly soothing. When he finished, he handed the book back to a young girl, who gasped in delight before thanking him and darting off, clutching her prize tightly.
Renn’s gaze shifted to the dark blade strapped at his side. It was an elegant weapon, clearly custom-forged with care and precision. From his composure and the way the crowd hung onto his every movement, it was obvious—this man wasn’t just anyone.
“Who is he?” Renn finally asked, her voice hushed as her eyes remained fixed on him.
“That’s Siegfried,” Arthur explained, his tone low and reverent. “The current champion of the Hunter Guild. Every three years, thirty-two hunters—eight from each region—are chosen based on their popularity among the community to compete in a tournament. The winner becomes a direct associate of the Guild and gets a ton of privileges until the next tournament.”
Renn’s dark blue eyes widened in fascination. “Whoa… Sounds like a big deal. How come I’ve never heard of this before?”
Arthur scratched the back of his neck. “Well… there’s more to it than that. Honestly, you’re probably better off not winning, or even participating.”
“Eh? Why’s that?” Renn tilted her head, curiosity piqued.
Arthur explained that the Hunter Guild Tourney wasn’t just a spectacle for hunters—it was designed to showcase the strength of the community to the general populace. Each region sent its best hunters to demonstrate their prowess in non-lethal matches, which often became a matter of regional pride. However, the prize for victory was a double-edged sword. The champion gained immense privileges but was also bound to the Hunter Guild’s grueling schedule, often facing high-risk monster cleanup missions with little rest in between.
Though the tournament drew attention and donations for the Guild, it had lost its luster in recent years, and the reason was Siegfried himself. Since his debut nine years ago, he had won every single tournament, cementing his position as champion. His victories were so consistent that the competition had become stale, with other hunters seen merely as stepping stones for him to display his skills.
“For three tournaments straight,” Arthur concluded, “it’s just been him showing off while everyone else plays second fiddle.”
Renn blinked, trying to take it all in. “Huh,” she muttered. “So it’s not really a competition anymore…”
She and Arthur were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice the change in the crowd’s energy until it was too late. The chatter began to subside, replaced by a heavy silence.
When Renn finally looked up, Siegfried’s piercing golden eyes were locked on them. His expression remained unreadable, but his steps were deliberate as he began to approach. His movements were smooth, almost graceful, as his hair and robes flowed behind him like the slow ripples of water.
Stopping in front of Arthur, Siegfried bowed politely, his right hand resting over his chest. “Long time no see, Your Highness.” Despite his intimidating presence, his tone was calm, and his manners impeccable.
Arthur offered a friendly smile. “I can tell you’re busy. Thank you for sparing your time here.”
Siegfried’s golden-yellow eyes shifted to Renn, who stood just behind Arthur. “And you, Your Majesty.”
Renn jolted slightly at the sudden recognition, his deep yet soothing voice sending a ripple through her nerves. “O-oh, h-hi…” She stammered, managing an awkward chuckle as she reminded herself to get used to this sort of attention.
“I’ve heard of your feats, taking down that giant beast. Most impressive.” Siegfried’s smile softened his sharp features, though the reaction it triggered in the crowd—especially among the women—was palpable.
Renn felt her cheeks grow warm despite herself. “Ah, th-thank you.”
“I had been considering a visit to Veledot, but it seems unnecessary now that its queen is here.” Siegfried’s gaze lingered on her, and Renn’s heart pounded in her chest.
“Wait, is it that time already?” Arthur interrupted, breaking the spell.
Siegfried nodded. “Indeed. I finally have a window to relax since they’re insisting I rest for the upcoming tourney. I hope to see you both there.” He glanced meaningfully at Renn as he said the last part.
“Come on now, you’d just beat me to a pulp,” Arthur quipped, though there was a note of truth in his voice.
Siegfried chuckled, his elegance unwavering even in the lighthearted moment. “Don’t sell yourself short. It’s the fight that matters, not the outcome. You know as well as I do that a champion’s duties aren’t easy. I do this for everyone.”
Arthur nodded. “And we really appreciate it.”
With another polite nod, Siegfried stepped back. “I must excuse myself. There are still many places I wish to visit, including the other capital kingdoms.”
At this, the crowd’s murmurs turned to excited whispers, escalating into chaos.
“Back off, everyone!”
“Siegfried is about to take off!”
“What?” Renn glanced around, bewildered. “Take off?”
Arthur grabbed her arm and gently tugged her back. “Yes, take off. Stand here.”
The crowd parted quickly, creating a wide circle as Siegfried raised his hand and whistled sharply. The piercing sound echoed through the air, silencing the square.
A moment later, a shrill cry rang out from above, followed by the fleeting shadow of something massive streaking across the sky.
The crowd gasped, their eyes scanning the heavens. Renn squinted, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she searched the blue expanse.
In a heartbeat, a colossal figure descended with a piercing cry, diving straight toward Siegfried. He leapt effortlessly, landing on the back of the enormous bird-like creature with a grace that defied belief.
The beast’s brown and orange feathers shimmered under the sunlight as it beat its powerful wings, carrying its rider skyward.
“Whoooa!” Renn exclaimed, her voice mingling with the awed cries of the crowd.
“Garuda,” Arthur said, his tone reverent. “As big as I remember—or maybe even bigger now.”
The majestic creature soared higher, its speed incredible, yet every detail of the fairytale-like scene imprinted itself on Renn’s mind. She remained rooted in place, her wide eyes tracking the pair until they disappeared into the clouds, leaving the square silent and spellbound.
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