Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

As the moon rose again, looming indistinctly in the dense fog, Roland opened his eyes.

He gazed at the moonlight, almost completely obscured by the fog outside. With a long sigh, he slowly sat up from the floor.

He took a moment to assess himself. Confirming he was back to peak condition, he nodded in satisfaction and gave a deep stretch.

Ever since leaving the River Domain and embarking on the journey to wipe out the Pirates, Roland hadn’t had a single peaceful night’s sleep.

Before, on the ship, he had suffered from the effects of the dense Magic Elements in the Land of Mist, leaving his Spirit dazed.

He had then endured several battles, which, combined with more than ten days adrift at sea, had left him utterly exhausted.

His nerves had been stretched taut the entire time, and he hadn’t dared to let his guard down for a single moment.

Now, staying in this room protected by a Witch’s spell and lying on the solid ground...

The sense of relaxation was a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.

"You’re awake, Roland?"

Seeing Roland get up, a ball of green light floated to his side.

Tress puffed out her chest and spoke proudly.

"I wasn’t slacking off while you were sleeping! I patrolled the area and didn’t find any trace of Demons!"

Seeing the proud expression on the Pikachu’s face, Roland chuckled and gently tapped her on the head with his finger.

"Thank you, Tress. By the way..."

He looked at the empty bed beside him.

"Where’s Mason?"

"There."

Tress jutted her chin toward the fireplace.

The young nobleman was sitting by the fireplace, just like yesterday, engrossed in reading the Moon Gauze Secret Scroll in his hands.

His whisper-like murmuring, combined with his devout expression, for a moment made Roland think he was in a church, listening to a Priest’s prayer.

After a moment of daze, Roland’s brow furrowed slightly.

The problem wasn’t Mason’s behavior, but...

The fireplace was only a few steps from where he had been sleeping.

But the Spiritual Power he had just been passively emitting had failed to perceive Mason’s presence, as if the man had vanished into thin air.

Only now, with his mind completely clear and his consciousness focused, could he easily detect a trace of him.

The feeling struck Roland as a little strange.

He probed the area repeatedly for a moment but found nothing unusual, finally shaking his head in resignation.

Just then, Mason seemed to notice Roland’s gaze and turned his head, saying with a smile.

"Good morn—uh... good evening, Roland."

"Good evening, Mason."

Roland replied.

After a brief chat, the two of them and the Pikachu had a simple meal, packed up, and pushed open the somewhat rotten wooden door.

With a piercing CREAK, Roland looked outside.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a hazy white fog. The already dim moonlight was completely blocked, making it impossible to discern the surroundings with the naked eye.

What was more troublesome was that the concentration of Magic Elements here was so high, it felt like being wrapped in a wet cloth, rendering even the keen Perception granted by his eighteen points of Spiritual Power nearly useless.

However, Mason, who stood beside him, seemed to be used to it.

He turned back to give Roland a few words of caution, then, carrying a battered oil lamp, he was the first to step into the dense fog.

Seeing this, Roland had the tiny Pikachu land on his shoulder and quickly followed.

Just like last night, the shadowy figures of Ghosts emerged from the fog.

They were numerous, their faces twisted, filled with intense negative emotions like resentment and indignation, as if they were about to pounce and tear Roland and the others to shreds.

But constrained by the so-called "Witch’s Blessing" on Mason, they were always blocked by an invisible barrier, not daring to cross the line.

The surrounding Demons also ignored Roland’s party because of the Ghosts’ presence, making their journey exceptionally smooth.

After leaving the town, Roland suddenly caught a glimpse of a huge Shadow towering high in the northern fog out of the corner of his eye, and doubt rose in his heart.

Although he had never set foot in this town before, it wasn’t far from the fishing village where he had previously accepted a commission to eliminate Demons.

Back then, he had never seen such a towering presence to the north.

At this thought, Roland blurted out the question on his mind.

Mason pondered for a moment, then answered while leading the way with practiced ease.

"I explored it before when I was trying to escape this area..."

The young nobleman sighed softly.

"But it’s a range of treacherous, rugged mountains, soaring into the clouds and stretching on endlessly. It almost completely blocks the way north, so if we want to leave, we can only go west."

"Treacherous mountains?"

Roland’s brow furrowed tightly.

The territory of the River Domain wasn’t vast, but it was filled with expansive plains, swamps, and wetlands.

The geography of its borderlands with neighboring countries was much the same.

This uniquely advantageous terrain also allowed for unimpeded trade between the River Domain and the surrounding nations.

And although Roland hadn’t yet set foot on every inch of the River Domain’s land, he had never heard of such a treacherous mountain range within its borders, and besides...

Roland’s gaze once again fell upon the giant Shadow to the north, and he subconsciously pressed his lips together.

The mountain range was immensely tall, stretching infinitely from east to west until it vanished into the vast mist.

If this land hadn’t been swallowed by the mist, such a massive mountain range couldn’t possibly have escaped his notice.

’Could it be... another behemoth driven by a Heartstealer, like the one at Wailing Gorge...’

Thinking of that terrifying, island-like moving entity, Roland subconsciously shifted his steps slightly away from the mountain’s shadow.

They walked on in silence. After an unknown amount of time, following Mason’s lead, Roland’s feet left the solid ground and stepped into a sticky, slippery swamp.

They were surrounded by a dense forest, yet it was gripped by an eerie, dead silence.

The Demons that had been rustling and hiding in the fog moments ago seemed to have vanished in an instant. Even the Ghosts that had been circling nearby were suddenly gone.

For a time, the only sound in the swamp was the SQUELCHING of their feet in the muddy water, echoing through the heavy air.

Following a small path, they entered a clearing in the woods.

Before long, a dilapidated wooden hut came into view.

Unlike the surrounding environment, which was encircled by trees, the hut was surrounded not by woods, but by clusters of deep green vines. As if they had a life of their own, they twisted silently in the fog.

Before Roland and the others could get any closer, the vines suddenly began to writhe frantically like living snakes.

The next moment, a sharp sound cut through the air.

Like poisoned talons, the vines tore through the fog, shooting toward the three of them with the speed of a lightning strike.

Mason’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

Tress yelped, and her tiny figure darted behind Roland.

As for Roland...

The Mithril Longsword at his waist was already drawn.

The vines seemed to have some kind of Perception, cleverly bypassing Mason in the front—as if sensing the blessing on him—and aimed straight for Roland behind him.

However, a silver light cascaded down like a waterfall.

In a mere instant, dozens of the thick, aggressive vines had been completely severed.

The severed sections of vine rained down onto the ground with dull thuds.

They writhed and tumbled violently on the ground like severed earthworms, a nauseating sight.

Even more bizarrely, these severed limbs and vines began to entangle and fuse with each other. In just a moment, they burrowed back into the muddy ground.

Immediately after, newly grown vines burst from the soil and launched another ferocious attack on Roland.

Witnessing this, Roland raised an eyebrow slightly.

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders to signal Tress, and the Pikachu understood immediately.

As a faint light spread, a scorching Flame began to dance on Roland’s fingertips.

Just as he was about to shoot the Flame from his hand, a voice came from deep within the wooden hut.

The voice was lazy and tinged with deep exhaustion, yet it carried a magical Charm that seeped into one’s very bones, as if it could directly pluck the strings of the soul.

Of the three present, even the strong-willed Roland couldn’t help but feel his spirit stir, and the Flame dancing on his fingertip wavered slightly.