Chapter 18

From the tree across the way, Lanken tossed a grappling line with a hook attached to the end.

"Stop messing around! Swords don’t work well on them, remember?"

"If I just pierce it with enough force, it will work. Otherwise, I’ll wear myself out and get impaled on one of their horns."

"Enough with that! Wrap the line around the tree trunk and throw it to Viretta!"

Iola immediately followed Lanken’s instruction. He looped the rope around the trunk, pointed the hook toward Viretta, then looked back at Lanken.

Across the tree, Lanken had tied the other end of the rope securely around himself.

Before Iola could ask what he was planning, Viretta caught the end of the rope Lanken had thrown. In sync, Lanken leapt from the tree.

As he dropped, the rope moved like a pulley, lifting Viretta up from the ground.

Once Viretta was high enough, Iola grabbed the rope and pulled her onto a tree branch.

"Are you alright?"

Viretta, clinging to the tree trunk, took deep, ragged breaths.

"I’m fine, but Lanken..."

The fact that Viretta was now up in the tree meant, naturally, that Lanken was down on the ground.

To make matters worse, Lanken was hanging in midair at the mercy of the tangled rope, which left him dangling at a height perilously close to the horns below.

Even in his awkward position, Lanken was trying to cut the rope with his sword. However, the rope was thick and wouldn’t snap easily.

"I—I’m fine!" he shouted, his voice growing hoarse.

"No, don’t talk! Stay quiet!"

The horned beasts that had lost sight of Viretta momentarily slowed but soon redirected their attention toward Lanken.

The creatures had no particular malice; they simply charged in their path, impaling anything in sight.

From her precarious perch, Viretta called out.

"Hang on! I’ll save you soon! If I make enough noise, they might go another way."

"It’s no use. The horned beasts don’t hear well. They rely on sight and smell. Stand back, Viretta," Iola advised.

Seeing that Viretta was about to jump, Iola extended a steadying hand toward her, his gaze fixed firmly below.

"I can’t do that. Lanken’s in danger! Look, he can barely move. I have to save him…."

As Iola’s hand gently pressed her shoulder, Viretta finally turned to look at him. The way he extended his hand reminded her of a familiar stance.

It was the preparatory stance used by those who cast magic without a staff.

"I’m not just telling you to stand back. Hunting a horned beast is difficult, but—"

Was Iola... a mage?

Her question was soon answered. The ground in the path of the charging beasts swelled and rose, forming a wide wall.

"—I can make an escape route."

The wall of earth wasn’t particularly thick—about the width of a finger joint. A direct impact from the beasts’ horns would likely shatter it.

But with their sight blocked, the horned beasts veered away and ran in a different direction.

With the wall and tree obstructing their sight, the creatures quickly forgot their original target and charged off, circling around a large tree in the distance.

Lanken let out a sigh of relief as he finally sliced through the rope, landing safely on the ground. Using the remaining length of the rope, he climbed back up the tree.

Watching him, Iola sighed in relief.

"Glad it worked."

Viretta watched, her eyes wide with surprise and relief.

"Iola, you’re a mage?"

"Yes. I’m capable of some magic."

The humility in his tone was an understatement. Without any incantations, he’d raised a substantial wall in mere moments—a clear sign of considerable skill.

"What kind of magic, and to what extent?"

"I primarily use earth-based magic. Nothing exceptional—just enough that I didn’t need to major in magic studies."

Saying he didn’t need to major in magic implied he’d mastered the basics. To study magic at any reputable institution, even a minimum of top local skill was required.

The difference between merely being able to cast simple spells and being a true mage was significant.

Many people, including Viretta, could learn some simple spells if they weren’t completely lacking in talent. But becoming a mage required rigorous study of magical formulas, supported by inherent talent. Iola wasn’t merely able to use magic—he could rightfully be called a mage.

Quite impressive for someone considered a disappointment to his father.

"Thanks. You saved me."

Having finally climbed up the tree, Lanken shook off the dust and grime and gave Iola a grateful nod. Iola responded with a slight bow.

"It was dangerous, Lanken. Don’t do that next time—I could’ve escaped just fine."

Lanken wiped the sweat off his face and arms, throwing a sideways glare at Viretta as she scolded him.

"Don’t forget, I’m your guard. And you were the one about to jump down, so don’t pull any reckless stunts."

"I can’t help it. You’re my knight, after all. Protecting my knight is my duty."

"If you think that’s what being a knight means, you’ve got it all wrong."

The horned beasts, having circled the large tree, now passed beneath their current tree, following their usual path.

The plan had been to lure them here and jump down on both sides to attack, but with a group of ten, it was impossible to isolate one without being impaled.

Iola murmured as he looked down at the horned beasts below.

"I apologize. I didn’t use magic earlier because I thought Viretta had a plan."

"No, it’s fine. I did have a plan."

"Vi-ret-ta."

Covered in sweat and dust from running, Lanken gave her a pointed look as if to say, Are you seriously bragging even now? Viretta shook her head to cool off, ignoring his glare.

"Anyway, it’s pointless now. The best thing to do is wait for the horned beasts to leave and then climb down."

"Yeah, Viretta’s exhausted, and I’m about dead. We came up here too poorly prepared. Even for a deer hunt, it usually takes three people to take one down."

Lanken leaned against the thick tree trunk. After running for so long and nearly getting gored, he’d given it his all, and they’d failed valiantly.

It was a suitable adventure tale in itself—time to head back and rest.

As he let out a loud exhale, Iola laughed softly from the other side.

"Yes, hunting isn’t easy. When Viretta spoke so confidently, I got swept up and thought it might be manageable."

There was no malice in Iola’s words.

He wasn’t criticizing, mocking, or even blaming her in the slightest.

His laugh was simply an acknowledgment of reality, an acceptance of it.

Despite knowing how difficult it was, he’d been inspired by Viretta’s enthusiasm to climb the mountain and take on the challenge. But he’d learned the obvious truth: enthusiasm alone wouldn’t accomplish everything.

It was almost a compliment, acknowledging the influence of Viretta’s passion.

However, for Viretta Medleridge, who had spent her life embellishing her own accomplishments, those words hit differently.

I unconsciously believed it?

Such words…

Didn’t that sound like he regretted believing in her?

"...No."

Viretta’s gaze bore into the rampaging horned beasts making their chaotic rounds below. Her small, clenched fist rested firmly against the tree.

"So, we can’t hunt a horned beast with three people? Our preparation wasn’t enough? That’s what a coward with their tail between their legs would say."

"...Right. And I can’t argue with that," Iola replied with a hint of resignation.

"No! I mean we’re not defeated yet. We still have a chance! Of course we do! Because I, Viretta, know no impossibility!"

He believed in her. He had to believe in her. He couldn’t be disappointed in Viretta. He couldn’t think of it as mere bluster.

As long as even the slightest chance remained for him to keep his faith in her, Viretta would seize it and hold on.

Reality didn’t matter. The moment one acknowledged reality, they were defeated.

Rather than facing the reality, Viretta looked up at the sunlight filtering through the trees.

Then she studied the movements of the horned beasts again. Her gaze followed their short, stocky legs and the swaying horns.

"I’m a master hunter who caught a wolf with my bare hands at the age of eight. I can do this."

"You... caught a wolf at eight?"

Iola looked astonished, as if he’d just heard the most implausible story. Viretta puffed up with pride.

"That’s right. I caught a wolf with my tiny hands and rescued a princess."

At just eight years old, she’d defeated a wolf with her bare hands and saved a young princess. The grateful princess even offered her a knighthood as a reward.

Viretta repeated her tale confidently, looking down at the ground.

A person as extraordinary as her, cowering on a tree because of some horned cattle? Running away?

"There’s no way a herd of common beasts could be a match for me, my knight, and my fiancé! We’re going to hunt a dragon, aren’t we? Right, Iola?"

When she asked this, Iola looked at her with the same unwavering gaze.

With complete trust filling his expression, he replied,

"Yes."

Viretta couldn’t betray such faith. Steeling her resolve, she straightened up and squared her shoulders.