Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

Hesitant, intermittent footsteps betrayed their owner’s inner confusion.

But in an instant, the footsteps grew firm again, then quickened, heading straight for Roland.

The moment he heard the unfamiliar sound, Roland’s body tensed.

He silently drew the Mithril Longsword from his waist, its blade glinting coldly in the dim light.

Tress floated behind him, her fiery gaze locked onto the direction of the sound.

The next moment, the sparse undergrowth was pushed aside.

A human silhouette slowly materialized in the thick fog.

It was followed by a clear, hesitant voice.

"Pardon the intrusion, but... are you alive?"

As he spoke, the figure raised both hands above his head and stopped about five paces from Roland.

But even at this close range, the milky fog obscured his face. Only his voice gave away that he was male. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

And though the stranger seemed to mean no harm, Roland’s guard didn’t lower in the slightest.

He gripped his sword hilt, his voice low as he replied.

"Well... compared to those drifting Ghosts, I at least have a bit of warmth."

Hearing Roland’s reply, the figure clearly breathed a sigh of relief.

He kept his hands raised, taking a tentative step forward as his tone grew urgent.

"Please, sir, I mean you no harm! But you have to leave this place with me, right now!"

Before he finished speaking, the figure suddenly let out a muffled grunt.

As the figure drew closer, Roland’s brow furrowed.

Delicate features, short, ink-green hair, skin so pale it was nearly translucent, and...

...the thick aura of Negative Energy radiating from within him.

’He recognized that face.’

’It was Lyon, the young man who had been attending that noble from the River Domain back when they boarded the ship in Distant Harbor.’

’No...’

’Remembering the news he’d overheard while hurrying to Trevor’s banquet, Roland’s eyes narrowed slightly.’

’Perhaps he should be called...’

’Mason.’

’The son of Baron Gavin, who conspired with the Truth Church to assassinate King Morne.’

"It’s you..."

Mason let out a low cry, then stopped abruptly as if he had bitten his tongue.

He cleared his throat to cover his momentary lapse and took an urgent step forward.

"Sir... night could fall at any moment. It’s extremely dangerous to stay out in the open!"

His gaze quickly swept over Roland’s hand gripping the sword hilt, but his face showed no panic.

"Please, you must come with me! My current hiding spot can hold off the monsters in this fog!"

Before he finished speaking, before Roland could even react, a piercing chill shot through his extended Spiritual Power—a frantic warning.

More shadowy silhouettes, emanating a bone-chilling cold, silently emerged from the viscous fog.

Simultaneously, the once-silent jungle and the adjacent swamp erupted with the rustling of crawling things and the heavy thud of dragging feet.

The sounds closed in from all directions, an encroaching tide.

Witnessing this sudden change, the anxiety on Mason’s face instantly turned to terror.

"Please believe me, sir! I swear on my life..."

His voice trembled slightly with urgency.

"I understand."

Roland nodded lightly, having already weighed his options in an instant.

Although Mason’s motives were still a mystery, the previous battle had already proven that in this dangerous region shrouded in mist, camping in the wild was tantamount to suicide.

Even if he suspected a trap, a known shelter was better than fumbling through the Darkness alone.

’As for a trap...’

Roland’s fingertip silently tapped once on the cold sword hilt.

"Then..."

His voice was low, his gaze as sharp as a falcon’s.

"Then please, lead the way."

Hearing Roland agree, the slightly built noble youth let out a long sigh of relief.

He completely ignored Roland’s cold gaze scrutinizing his neck, and still held his hands high to show he was harmless.

He then turned and, with hurried steps, vanished into the denser fog ahead.

Seeing this, Roland and Tress exchanged a look, then stepped forward, following closely behind Mason.

Puzzlingly, the Ghosts that had previously attacked Roland now only wandered around them, as if afraid of something, always keeping a certain distance.

Even more bizarrely, the surrounding monsters and their cacophony of noises seemed unable to detect them, as if shielded by a "curtain" of Ghosts.

The journey was silent.

Before long, under Mason’s lead, a desolate town shrouded in dead silence slowly came into view.

Broken walls and ruins were faintly visible in the thick fog, the crooked houses like the skeletons of slumbering behemoths.

The streets were empty and deathly silent, with only peeling walls and shattered window frames telling of times past.

After crossing the empty streets, it wasn’t long before Mason led Roland to a slightly dilapidated but unusually tall house.

"Please..."

After stopping, perhaps out of habit, Mason stood to the side, gestured with his arm, and indicated for Roland to enter first.

But noticing the undiminished wariness on Roland’s face and his refusal to move, Mason gave a wry, helpless smile. He had no choice but to step forward himself, push open the main door, and slowly walk inside.

As the main door swung open, the scene inside was revealed to Roland.

The furnishings were sparse, the layout remarkably simple.

Just by standing at the doorway, Roland could take in the entire room’s interior at a glance.

After repeatedly scanning with his Perception and confirming nothing was amiss, Roland glanced back at Tress.

Seeing the Pikachu also shake her head to indicate it was safe, he then followed Mason’s figure and slowly stepped into the house.

CREAK...

Accompanied by the groaning of rotting wood, the main door slowly closed behind them.

A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace at the center of the room.

The firewood crackled, its warmth instantly dispelling the cloying, damp chill of the fog.

"Please, sit."

As if to further dispel Roland’s wariness, after gesturing, Mason fetched some clean water and put tea leaves into a teapot, all within Roland’s line of sight.

After a short while, the aroma of tea wafted out, and a cup of hot tea was pushed in front of Roland.

"Here... sir. Please."

Roland thanked him softly but did not immediately touch the cup of tea.

And only now, under the flickering light of the fireplace, did Mason notice Tress floating behind Roland, peeking out with half her head.

"What... what is that thing?"

He blurted out, his voice filled with astonishment.

"Hey! You’re so rude!"

Hearing how Mason referred to her, Tress immediately huffed in annoyance.

"S-sorry, this... Miss..."

Looking at the slightly trembling butterfly wings on the Pikachu’s back, Mason subconsciously took two steps back, his gaze then turning to the youth sitting on the old chair.

Roland’s gaze, in turn, was locked on his face.

Noticing Roland’s sharp scrutiny, Mason scratched his cheek a little uncomfortably and asked softly.

"Is... is something wrong, sir?"

"No....."

Roland’s knuckles tapped rhythmically on his sword hilt as his low voice sounded.

"I am grateful for your help..."

Only after confirming that there were no signs of Demons or Ghosts around the house did he continue.

"Mr. Mason."