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Chapter 186: Courting Death?

As Lucavion and Valeria stepped out from the guild's registration room, the bustling sounds of the adventurers' hall enveloped them. The moment the heavy wooden door closed behind them, a sudden blur of white fur darted through the air, leaping directly onto Lucavion's shoulder.

It was Vitaliara, her sleek, white fur gleaming in the soft light. She landed gracefully, her emerald eyes glinting with a quiet satisfaction as she perched herself, her tail flicking with ease. The connection between them was almost palpable, more tangible than it had been before, after the breakthroughs they had both experienced.

Lucavion glanced briefly at the curious onlookers before focusing on Vitaliara. [Seems you're in a playful mood today,] he teased, a hint of amusement in his mental voice, which resonated clearly within his mind.

Vitaliara purred softly, her tail flicking back and forth as she settled comfortably. [Playful? I'd say I'm just keeping an eye on things. Someone has to make sure you don't get too reckless.]

Valeria, walking beside Lucavion, eyed the exchange but said nothing. She had grown accustomed to the presence of Vitaliara, though the casual way Lucavion handled everything still nagged at her. Still, her thoughts were elsewhere—on the knight's recommendation and the deeper mystery of who Lucavion really was.

Lucavion, on the other hand, moved through the adventurers' hall without a care in the world, his mind already preparing for the next steps. He hadn't yet chosen a mission, but that could wait. There was always time for another challenge, another adventure.

[So, what now?] Vitaliara's voice echoed again in his mind, her tone thoughtful. [You've got your rank, your fancy new card, and a city full of people eager to see the next big thing at this tournament. Seems like a perfect setup for someone like you.]

Lucavion's smirk widened as he cast a glance outside the adventurers' hall, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the bustling streets. There was something off, a familiar tension hanging in the air. His instincts, sharpened over countless battles and encounters, had already picked up on the subtle shifts in mana around them.

[No matter where you are, there are always people who never grow up,] he murmured into his mind, his thoughts flowing effortlessly to Vitaliara.

[What are you talking about?] Vitaliara's voice echoed back, her tone laced with curiosity. Her tail flicked as she tried to make sense of Lucavion's sudden change in focus.

Lucavion chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on a particular alleyway just outside the hall. [Hehehe… Just watch.]

Vitaliara paused, her feline eyes narrowing as she focused on the surrounding mana. In an instant, she felt it—a small group of people lingering just outside, their mana signatures faint but unmistakable. She took a moment to count them, her senses heightened.

[Five of them,] she said, her voice now serious. [I can sense their mana. They're not trying very hard to hide it, either.]

Lucavion nodded subtly, his expression still casual, but his eyes gleamed with anticipation. [I know. I could feel them the moment we stepped out. It's always the same—there's always someone who thinks they can test their limits or make a quick move in places like this.]

Vitaliara's gaze sharpened as she assessed the situation. [What do you think they want? A quick score? Or is this some sort of personal grudge?]

Lucavion shrugged lightly. Well, when you were wandering around just now, you missed it.]

[What happened?]

[Let's say, they were courting death.]

[Courting death?]

[Ahaha….You will see it soon.]

Valeria, who had been walking beside them, finally noticed the shift in Lucavion's demeanor. She turned her gaze to him, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What is it? You've gone quiet."

Lucavion flashed her a mischievous smile, though his eyes didn't leave the entrance to the hall. "Just some old habits of the unwise. Seems we have a few guests waiting outside for us."

Valeria's hand instinctively moved toward the hilt of her sword, her stance becoming more alert. "How many?"

"Five," Lucavion answered calmly, his voice almost amused. "They're not exactly subtle."

Valeria's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword as they approached the entrance to the guild hall. "Who are they?" she asked quietly, her tone edged with suspicion.

Lucavion's smile didn't falter, but there was a glimmer of something darker in his gaze as he glanced at her. "You'll understand when you see their faces," he said lightly, a hint of amusement still coloring his voice. "Let's just say… they're familiar with bad decisions."

Valeria's brows furrowed, but she didn't press further. Instead, she focused on the subtle shifts in Lucavion's expression and the easy confidence in his stride as they stepped outside. The air was cooler now, the sun starting its slow descent, casting long shadows across the bustling street. Even in the dimming light, the presence of those waiting for them was unmistakable.

Lucavion took his time, walking at a leisurely pace through the crowd, as if they weren't being followed. Vitaliara, perched on his shoulder, kept her senses alert, tracking the five distinct mana signatures that hovered just out of sight. Each step brought them closer to the alleyway, where the narrow streets would offer a perfect spot for a confrontation.

[They're moving,] Vitaliara murmured, her eyes flickering as she tracked the movement through the thinning crowd. [Closing in from both sides. Looks like they want to surround us.]

Lucavion's smirk widened. [Good. Saves us the trouble of hunting them down.]

Valeria shot him a sharp look, her tension mounting. "You're not planning to just let them ambush us, are you?"

Lucavion shrugged, his smile turning playful. "Why not? It's easier to deal with them all at once."

Before Valeria could respond, they rounded a corner, entering a quieter part of the street. The alleyway was narrow, hemmed in by tall stone buildings that cast long, dark shadows. It was the perfect place for an ambush—empty, isolated, with only a few flickering lanterns casting pale light over the cobblestones.

The moment they stepped into the alley, the atmosphere shifted. The presence of mana thickened, and the five figures emerged from the shadows, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements. Each wore a smirk of their own, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

Valeria's eyes widened as she recognized them. They were the same group of adventurers who had jeered at Lucavion back in the guild hall earlier—the ones who had tried to intimidate him. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his jaw, stepped forward, his smile cold and predatory.

"Well, look who it is," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "The arrogant brat and his little entourage. Didn't think you'd show your face around here so soon."

Lucavion stopped in the middle of the alleyway, his expression still as relaxed and casual as ever. "Ah, yes. You're the ones who were barking earlier," he said lightly, his gaze drifting over each of them. "I figured you might try something stupid."

The scarred man's grin widened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Stupid, huh? You've got guts, talking like that." He glanced at his companions, and they shifted subtly, spreading out to block any escape routes. "You see, we don't take kindly to being disrespected. And in this city, we don't let insults slide."

Valeria's stance shifted, her eyes locked on the man in front of them. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice cold. "If this is some petty grudge, you'd better walk away now. I won't let you harm him."

The man's gaze flicked to her, his grin widening as if he found her words amusing. "Oh, we're not here to hurt him… much. Just a little reminder that people like him need to stay in their place." He leaned forward, his expression turning menacing. "And you, sweetheart, should be more careful about who you stand beside."

Vitaliara jumped down from Lucavion's shoulder, yawning. [Bunch of weaklings. What do you want to do with them?]

Lucavion's smirk didn't waver. [Simple,] he replied. [I make an example of them.]

Without warning, he took a single step forward, his gaze locking onto the scarred man's eyes. The air around them seemed to shift, a sudden pressure settling over the alleyway. The man faltered, his grin faltering slightly as Lucavion's expression darkened.

"Let me give you some advice," Lucavion said softly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "If you want to pick a fight, make sure you understand your opponent first."

The scarred man's face contorted with anger, and he reached for his weapon—a heavy iron club strapped to his back. "Why, you—"

Before he could even complete his sentence…..

–SWOOSH!

A blade flashed through the air with blinding speed. It was so swift, so precise, that the man didn't even register what had happened until a searing pain ripped through his chest.

SPURT!

Blood gushed from a clean, diagonal cut across his torso, staining his clothes in an instant. His eyes widened in shock, his hand instinctively reaching toward the wound, but before he could react further, he felt a cold pressure at his throat.

Lucavion stood before him, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced by something darker, more dangerous. In his hand, the gleaming edge of his blade rested gently against the man's neck, the faintest movement away from ending everything.

The scarred man froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes flicking down to the sword pressed so casually against his skin. His comrades, who had been watching from the shadows, stood paralyzed, fear rippling through them at the sight of their leader brought so low in the blink of an eye.

Lucavion's expression was calm, his voice a cold whisper as he spoke. "I told you," he said, his tone steady and unyielding. "Know your opponent before you start something you can't finish."

Chapter 187: Courting Death? (2)

"I told you. Know your opponent before you start something you can't finish."

Lucavion's blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, the soft hum of its edge cutting through the tension that hung thick in the alley. The scarred man, his chest still oozing blood from the clean-cut, struggled to maintain his composure as Lucavion's words sank in.

The cold steel pressed ever so lightly against his neck, and the weight of his earlier bravado crumbled beneath Lucavion's calm, dangerous presence.

"Now… what were you saying?" Lucavion's voice was low, but it carried a weight that made the man's heart pound faster. He swallowed hard, his bravado fully replaced by fear. His knees wobbled, the strength draining from his body as his companions, who had been watching from the shadows, widened their eyes in disbelief.

For a moment, the other lackeys couldn't comprehend what had just unfolded before them. Their leader—someone known for his brutal strength—was brought down without so much as a struggle. The sight of him, trembling and defenseless under Lucavion's blade, shattered their confidence. Was this the same man who had led them with such arrogance?

They exchanged panicked glances, their instincts finally kicking in. Two of them shifted, muscles tensing as they prepared to lunge forward, thinking they could overpower Lucavion with sheer numbers. But before they could make a single move, their leader, the man bleeding under the weight of his own arrogance, found his voice.

"Stop!" he rasped, his voice hoarse and filled with desperation.

His lackeys froze in their tracks, stunned by the command. The word was not a bark of authority, as they were used to hearing from him, but a plea—one filled with the cold realization that any further action would only bring disaster upon them all.

Lucavion's smirk deepened as he heard the man's panicked order. He could feel the tension shift in the air—their attempt to rally snuffed out before it even began. The scarred man knew, even if his companions didn't, that any further escalation would lead to something far worse than a few shallow cuts.

"Wise choice," Lucavion murmured, his voice soft but edged with finality. He withdrew his blade, the gleaming edge slipping away from the man's throat with the same grace it had appeared. The scarred man collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath as the pressure on his life was suddenly lifted.

The lackeys stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Their leader was on the ground, defeated in both spirit and strength. Slowly, their bravado seeped away, replaced by a creeping fear of the man who had effortlessly dismantled the one they thought invincible.

Lucavion glanced at the group, his expression almost bored. "Take him and leave," he said, flicking the blood from his blade before sheathing it in one smooth motion. "And next time, think twice before you try to throw your weight around."

The lackeys hesitated for only a moment before rushing to their leader's side. They hoisted him up as best they could, their hands shaking as they avoided Lucavion's gaze. Without another word, they dragged the scarred man away, retreating into the shadows with their tails between their legs.

As they disappeared down the alley, Vitaliara's voice echoed in Lucavion's mind, her tone laced with amusement. [I almost feel bad for them. Almost.]

Lucavion chuckled softly, his smirk fading into a more relaxed smile. [They'll live. And they'll remember.]

Valeria, who had been watching the entire scene unfold in stunned silence, finally let out a slow breath. She shook her head, clearly still processing how effortlessly Lucavion had handled the situation. "That was… quick," she muttered, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

Lucavion turned to her, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "No need to drag things out," he said with a shrug. "Sometimes, a quick lesson is all people need."

Valeria nodded at Lucavion's words, but she couldn't shake the lingering chill that ran down her spine. Just now, when he drew his blade, something had shifted in the air—a sharp, almost imperceptible intent that had sliced through the tension like the edge of his sword. It was subtle, but Valeria had felt it clearly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, still processing the scene. She wasn't just impressed by how effortlessly Lucavion had handled the group; there was something more, something in his aura that had changed. The gleam of his blade, though quick, had flashed with power. Valeria had been trained well enough to recognize what that gleam meant. It was unmistakable.

"You broke through to 4-star, didn't you?" she asked, her voice steady, but edged with curiosity.

Lucavion turned to her, his playful smirk still lingering on his lips, but there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. He didn't answer immediately, instead letting her words hang in the air for a moment, as if debating how much to reveal.

Then, with a casual shrug, he said, "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't." His tone was light, but the sharpness in his gaze hinted at the truth.

Valeria's expression hardened, not in anger, but in realization. She had suspected for a while that Lucavion's true power was far beyond what he let on, but to think he had crossed that threshold into the 4-star realm without even mentioning it—it both intrigued and unsettled her.

This guy, before they met, felt like he was just a 3-star Awakened. But now, he had just reached the 4-star realm?

Reaching 4-star wasn't a small feat. It marked a major milestone in a martial artist's journey, a point where they began to truly command the battlefield with the intent of their weapon alone.

And for Lucavion to have crossed that barrier, made his playful, carefree attitude all the more dangerous.

Just now she was sure that, she had witnessed a 'sword intent.'

In a world of strength like that, she felt helpless for a second. While her talent was definitely not bad, looking at Lucavion and other people, she felt like she was lacking.

After all, she was just a 3-star Awakened and had been one for a long time.

Valeria's thoughts churned as she stared at Lucavion. His carefree grin remained in place, but all she could think about was the invisible gap that seemed to have opened between them. How did he advance so quickly? she wondered, her chest tightening with a mixture of frustration and doubt.

She had been stuck in the 3-star realm for over two years, hitting a bottleneck she hadn't been able to break through. No matter how much she trained, no matter how diligently she cultivated using the [Heart of the Knight] passed down through her family, she felt as if she had reached a wall—one that wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she pushed.

Her core felt stable, powerful even, but it wasn't progressing. And that was the problem. She was stuck, stagnant in a world where others, like Lucavion, seemed to surge ahead effortlessly. When she had first reached the 3-star realm, she had felt proud—accomplished. The power, the control, the command over her mana—it had been exhilarating.

But now? It felt like she was constantly being left behind.

Her eyes drifted to Lucavion again, and despite herself, a pang of envy tightened her chest. His talent had always been evident, but for him to already be on the verge of mastering sword intent, something only 4-star martial artists could truly grasp... it was more than just talent. It was as though the universe itself favored him, letting him glide past challenges that weighed on others for years.

"And what am I doing now?" Valeria muttered under her breath, her frustration slipping into her voice.

She had been working tirelessly, dedicating every moment to her cultivation, but for the last two years, she hadn't advanced even an inch. Her mana channels were clear, her core stable, but her progress felt… frozen.

The [Mana Accumulation Art]—her family's treasured technique—had always served her well, but lately, it felt like it had stopped resonating with her as if it no longer held the key to her advancement.

For two years, she had endured this stagnation, watching others break through to higher realms while she remained tethered to the 3-star rank. Her speed wasn't terrible, she knew that. Two years at 3-star was still respectable. But with the tournament approaching, the pressure weighed heavier on her. She needed more—more power, more progress.

And right now, she felt like she was chasing shadows, while those around her ascended effortlessly.

Lucavion, of all people, stood as a reminder of that disparity. His journey seemed to flow like a river, while hers felt like a still pond, trapped in the same space with no outlet.

"What are you doing? Aren't you just standing there?" Lucavion's voice broke through Valeria's spiraling thoughts, yanking her back to reality.

She blinked, her mind still tangled in frustration, and then—really—she couldn't help but facepalm. Of course he'd interrupt with something so simple, so infuriatingly casual.

"..."

Her silence seemed to amuse him. Lucavion leaned closer, peering at her with that playful glint in his eye, completely unaware—or worse, fully aware—of the storm brewing inside her. "Hey, Valeria. If you keep standing there thinking so hard, you're going to get wrinkles. You don't want that, do you?"

That was it.

She just snapped.

Chapter 188: Snapped

"Hey, Valeria. If you keep standing there thinking so hard, you're going to get wrinkles. You don't want that, do you?"

Wrinkles? Really? This was his idea of helping her? She had spent years pushing herself, enduring sleepless nights, trying to master a cultivation art that had stopped working—fighting tooth and nail against a bottleneck that refused to break—and this was the advice he offered. A stupid, empty remark about wrinkles?

"Idiot!" Valeria exploded, her voice louder than she intended. She could feel the heat rising to her face, frustration boiling over. "You think everything's just a joke, don't you?! You never take anything seriously! You—you don't understand anything!"

Lucavion blinked, his grin faltering for just a moment, but then it returned with a teasing smirk. "Hey, calm down, Valeria. No need to be so tense all the time. It's not good for your health. Also, wrinkles—"

"Shut up!" she snapped, cutting him off before he could finish. "Don't you dare follow me!" She didn't wait for a response. With an exasperated huff, Valeria turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving Lucavion standing alone in the street.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she walked, her fists clenched at her sides. She didn't even know why she was so angry—was it him? Was it his carefree attitude? Or was it just the suffocating pressure she'd been feeling for weeks, months, years, finally breaking through? She couldn't tell anymore.

This is the 'talent' everyone keeps talking about, isn't it? Valeria's thoughts raced bitterly. People like him just glide through life—like they're riding a wave—while people like me have to fight for every inch. It's not fair. It's never been fair.

She quickened her pace, needing distance. Lucavion had a way of disarming her, but not in a way that was comforting. It was frustrating like he could never understand the weight she carried or the struggle she endured. To him, everything was a game. A challenge to be laughed at and brushed off. But for her?

This was her life, her future.

As she moved deeper into the bustling streets, Valeria fought to regain control of her emotions, but the bitterness lingered, gnawing at her. She didn't look back, didn't care if Lucavion had decided to follow her after all. She just needed to be alone, away from his teasing, his endless carefree attitude.

For now, she just needed space to think—really think—without the distraction of someone who made everything look so infuriatingly easy.

********

As Valeria stormed away, her footsteps echoing through the alley, Lucavion remained standing, his expression shifting from amused to thoughtful. The air, once thick with tension, now felt empty, save for the fading sounds of Valeria's departure.

Vitaliara, still perched on his shoulder, watched Valeria's retreating figure with a narrowed gaze. Her tail flicked sharply, her displeasure evident. [She's acting so entitled,] Vitaliara hissed in Lucavion's mind. [Frustration or not, that attitude is starting to grate on me.]

Lucavion sighed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, though the edge of it felt slightly guilty. He glanced at the ground, scratching the back of his neck. [I might've gone a little overboard with the teasing,] he admitted, his tone far more reflective than usual. [She's clearly frustrated, and I'm not exactly helping, am I?]

Vitaliara's emerald eyes blinked slowly as she processed his words, her sharpness softening just slightly. [Maybe. But you're not responsible for whatever is bothering her. She's got to learn to deal with that herself.]

Lucavion's gaze followed Valeria's form as she disappeared into the crowd, her rigid posture telling the whole story of her frustration and self-doubt. He felt a small pang of regret, but not enough to wipe away his signature smirk entirely. [True.]

Lucavion's smirk lingered, but his thoughts drifted back to what he knew about Valeria from the novel. He recalled the way her journey had been described—the constant frustration, the sense of being left behind despite her efforts. Valeria had been stuck in the 3-star realm for what seemed like an eternity, and no amount of training had managed to break her through.

In the novel, Valeria's struggle was more than just personal frustration—it was her constant need to prove herself, to line up achievements that would make her family proud and honor their legacy. As the heir to a distinguished knightly house, the pressure to excel weighed on her shoulders like a suit of armor that never came off.

She wasn't just trying to grow in ranks; she was fighting against a clock, knowing that time was slipping through her fingers, and the gap between her and her peers was widening.

Lucavion remembered that even as she entered the academy, she remained stuck in the 3-star realm, and that had been a source of embarrassment for her. At the academy, the other students were often in the 4-star realm or higher, leaving Valeria feeling inadequate and outmatched.

It had taken her far longer than most to reach that milestone, and it had branded her as "weak" in the eyes of those who measured worth solely by power and rank.

'No wonder she's frustrated,' Lucavion thought to himself, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. Valeria wasn't just angry at him—she was angry at herself, at her perceived failure to keep up with those around her. Every little reminder of someone else's progress, like Lucavion's recent breakthrough, probably felt like another weight pressing down on her.

'But still,' he mused, 'she's pushing herself too hard. That's part of why she's stuck.'

In the novel, it is clear that Valeria's bottleneck wasn't purely a lack of talent or effort. She was one of the most diligent, disciplined characters in the story, always training, and always seeking to improve.

But her rigid adherence to structure and rules—the very things that made her such an exceptional knight—were also holding her back. She couldn't let go of the control she sought over her path, and that had been her downfall for much of her early arc.

'She's like a dam holding back too much water,' Lucavion thought, remembering a line from somewhere.

'Eventually, the dam has to break for the water to flow.'

In the story, it took Valeria much longer to realize that. She had entered the academy still at 3-star, struggling with her self-worth and being looked down upon by her peers.

It wasn't until later, after a particularly harrowing battle, that she finally broke through to the 4-star realm—but only after nearly losing everything in the process.

'Well, this time, things shall be a little different.'

Remembering the time when he was on that battlefield and under the old man's teachings, he smiled a little.

At that time, he also had quite a lot of mental barriers that he had put around himself that were obstructing him from the potential that he could awaken.

'Master always had a way of knowing just what to say to get under my skin,' he mused to himself, shaking his head.

He straightened his coat and started walking at a leisurely pace through the bustling streets of the city. As he moved, the crowd swirled around him, the energy of Andelheim humming with anticipation for the upcoming tournament. Lucavion's smile remained, but his thoughts were still on Valeria.

'Since Master guided me that way, why wouldn't I do the same for her?' he thought. 'Sometimes, people need a little push, even if they don't like it.'

But as he walked, Vitaliara flicked her tail and tilted her head, sensing a shift in Lucavion's thoughts. [Aren't you going to catch up to her?] she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. [It seemed like you wanted to talk to her about all this.]

Lucavion shook his head, his pace unhurried as he moved through the streets. "Nah," he said aloud, his voice casual and relaxed. "She doesn't want me around right now. It's better to leave her alone for the time being."

Vitaliara blinked in surprise. [That's uncharacteristically thoughtful of you,] she remarked, though there was a teasing edge to her words.

Lucavion chuckled softly. "I have my moments," he said with a grin. "She'll cool off, and then maybe we can talk. For now, though, I think giving her space is the right move."

He glanced around the city, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling marketplace. Merchants shouted their wares, adventurers, and travelers moved about, and the distant hum of excitement from the tournament grounds buzzed in the air.

"It's not like I have nothing to do," he added with a shrug, his eyes glinting with amusement. "it is about the time I met with the miss 'Bear' that master had mentioned."

The Iron Matron.

Or in other words…..Little Bear.

It was a name he had heard from his master after all.

Chapter 189: Iron Matron

Lucavion continued his leisurely stroll through the bustling streets of Andelheim, the sounds of the marketplace gradually fading into the background as his thoughts shifted to his next destination.

The Iron Matron, or as his master had once affectionately called her, "Little Bear." The memory of his master's words resurfaced, and Lucavion couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the formidable woman carrying such a nickname.

'Well….Master just causally talked about it at that time, but who would have thought I would meet one of the people that Master saved in this place.'

At that time, Gerald had mentioned the girl with a voice of wonder.

"Master…..You must have said quite a lot of people in your prime?"

"Hehe….You brat...Of course, your master saved a lot of people. There was this particular girl who had caught my attention at that time."

"Caught your attention?"

"Well, let's say she was different. She was like a man in a woman's body. She fought with her hands."

"Bare hands?"

"Indeed. She had an unnatural strength, like an orc."

"You saved such a girl."

"Well, she was not awakened but still registered as an adventurer in the guild. And while I was passing on the ruins, I saw her fighting with a 1-star monster."

"She fought with an evolved monster while being non-awakened."

"Wow….."

Remembering the contents of the talk they had, he couldn't help but shake his head.

Fighting with an evolved monster while being a common mortal?

With bare hands?

Lucavion shook his head in disbelief as he continued his walk, the memory of his conversation with Gerald playing out in his mind. His master's tales had always been filled with incredible stories, but this one had stuck with him.

A girl with the strength of an orc, fighting evolved monsters with nothing but her bare hands—if anyone other than Gerald had told the story, Lucavion might have dismissed it as exaggerated adventurer folklore.

But Gerald never exaggerated.

"Mariel Farlon," his master had finally revealed with a chuckle, after teasing him for being so captivated by the story.

Lucavion had listened intently, amazed at how his master described her. Despite being a common mortal at the time, Mariel had possessed a spirit that could rival any Awakened. It wasn't just her strength or resilience that had caught his master's attention—it was her sheer willpower.

She fought with everything she had, never once thinking of giving up, even when the odds were stacked impossibly against her.

'To be honest, Master, you made her sound like a walking legend,' Lucavion thought with a smirk. 'And now here I am, about to meet the woman you saved, the one you called 'Little Bear.''

The nickname made him chuckle again as he neared the inn.

'But at the same time, to think that Iron Matron, Mariel Farlon, was actually someone master had saved. I did not know such a setting existed in the novel.'

Lucavion's steps slowed for a moment as he recalled more about Mariel Farlon from the novel. She wasn't just some nameless figure from the past, but rather a central figure in the adventurer's world—a retired A-rank adventurer, known for her unwavering discipline and iron will. Her nickname, "Iron Matron," wasn't just for show.

It was a title earned through years of service, battle-hardened experience, and a reputation for being a no-nonsense mentor to younger adventurers.

'A 6-star Awakened,' Lucavion thought to himself, his smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. 'That's no small feat. She was a powerhouse.'

In the novel, Mariel had always been portrayed as a strong, good-natured, yet stern woman. She was the kind of mentor who believed in pushing her disciples(?) to their limits, not out of cruelty, but because she believed in their potential.

Despite her rough exterior, she was deeply respected by those around her, especially for the way she cared about the adventurers who came under her wing.

She wasn't just a retired adventurer who faded into the background—Mariel had made a lasting impact on the adventurer's guild and the younger generations who looked up to her. Though she had stepped away from active duty, her name carried weight, and even now, she remained one of the strongest figures in the city.

In the novel, her role has been pivotal, acting as a mentor to several important characters, guiding them through the difficult trials of their journeys.

'And to think, she's someone my master saved back when she was just a mortal,' Lucavion mused, shaking his head slightly. 'This whole thing feels like a story within a story.'

He remembered her key moments in the novel—how she had once taken on a high-ranking demon alone during a crisis, how she had led a group of adventurers to protect an entire town from a monster outbreak. Her presence alone had inspired countless others to take up the mantle of adventurer. Despite her retirement, Mariel had remained a formidable force, a walking legend in her own right.

[Quite the woman,] Vitaliara noted, remembering what Lucavion had said about her. [A 6-star Awakened, retired but still more than capable. Are you sure you can keep up with her?]

Lucavion chuckled softly. [Keep up? That's not my goal. I'm just here to give a visit, that is all.]

Lucavion pushed open the door to the inn, the soft hum of conversation and the warmth of the fire enveloping him as he stepped inside.

His eyes scanned the room, taking in the quiet, relaxed atmosphere. Adventurers and travelers were scattered around, enjoying their meals, discussing their next ventures, and unwinding after a long day.

'Well, she is here as usual.'

Considering that she was the one who owned the inn, it wasn't a surprise after all.

Lucavion's eyes swept across the room, taking in the lively scene as adventurers and travelers talked, laughed, and unwound from their days.

The warm glow of the fire, combined with the hum of conversation, made the inn feel inviting—almost comforting. But with most of the tables filled and his own desire not to draw unnecessary attention, Lucavion made his way to the bar counter instead.

He liked to keep things casual, and sitting at a table meant drawing the Iron Matron's attention in a way that might seem more formal than he intended.

'Besides,' he thought with a small grin, 'if she wants to talk, she'll find me.'

He slid onto one of the stools at the bar, glancing briefly at the barkeep before leaning back, his posture relaxed. The smell of roasted meat and hearty stew filled the air, and for the first time in a while, Lucavion realized how hungry he was.

He waved over the barkeep, giving the man a friendly nod. "A meal and a drink, if you don't mind," he said casually. "Something strong, but nothing too fancy."

The barkeep raised an eyebrow but didn't question him. He nodded and began preparing the order, leaving Lucavion to settle in, his gaze drifting around the room.

[Vitaliara,] he thought with a smirk, [if you're hungry, now's the time to speak up.]

Vitaliara flicked her tail lazily from her perch on his shoulder. [I'm fine, but you might want to take it easy on the drink. You never know when you'll need a clear head.]

Lucavion chuckled softly. [You forget I can't really get drunk, at least not in the way mortals do. My body burns it off too quickly.]

[Still, it's not a good habit,] she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her voice.

As Lucavion sat waiting for his meal, the atmosphere in the inn buzzed around him. The stories of adventurers, the excitement over the upcoming tournament—it was all background noise to him now. His focus was elsewhere.

[You make it sound like I always drink.]

[Humph.]

As Lucavion sat waiting for his meal, the atmosphere in the inn buzzed around him. The stories of adventurers, the excitement over the upcoming tournament—it was all background noise to him now. His focus was elsewhere.

A moment later, he sensed her before he saw her. Mariel Farlon, the Iron Matron, approached the bar with the same calm, authoritative presence that commanded attention without her having to utter a word. Lucavion remained casual, not turning to acknowledge her immediately, though he knew she was coming.

She stopped just a few feet away, her gaze settling on him like the weight of a mountain as if she was testing him just like she did in the morning.

Though Lucavion knew one thing.

'A show, isn't it?'

She was also putting on a show, and he just played along.

Or he did not.

"There is no need to act. I don't mind the attention."

Since his words directly undermined her purpose.

Chapter 190: Iron Matron (2)

For Mariel, the days were the same.

Open the tavern, prepare the meals, serve the customers, chat with people all around the world, and repeat.

Today was the same, with a little change.

As the evening deepened into night, the familiar hum of activity filled Mariel Farlon's tavern. With the city's tournament drawing more people than usual, her inn was bustling with visitors—some honorable warriors, others less so.

It had been a busy day, with patrons coming and going, many of them boasting about their upcoming matches or drowning their nerves in drink.

Mariel moved through the inn like she always did, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She had seen it all over the years—adventurers, mercenaries, and even nobles trying to impress their companions.

But with the increase in foot traffic during the tournament, trouble always followed. And tonight had been no exception.

A burly man, his voice slurred and his movements sluggish, had decided that he'd had one drink too many. His booming laughter quickly turned into shouting, and soon enough, the situation escalated into a full-blown brawl when he swung a fist at another patron. The tables had been overturned, chairs knocked aside, and drinks spilled everywhere.

Mariel had stepped in, her presence commanding as always. Without hesitation, she had subdued the man with swift, efficient strikes that left no room for retaliation. Even in her retirement, her strength and skill were nothing to underestimate. The tavern had quieted after that, a few nervous glances exchanged among the remaining patrons, who wisely kept to their drinks.

Now, as the night stretched on, Mariel stood near the bar, wiping down a mug as she kept a watchful eye on the remaining crowd. The atmosphere had settled somewhat, though the rowdy energy of the tournament-goers lingered in the air. She knew that as long as the tournament was in full swing, her inn would be a hotspot for excitement—and for trouble.

She sighed softly to herself. "Never a dull moment," she muttered.

Just as she was about to return behind the counter, the door to the inn opened, and someone entered.

The door to the inn creaked open, and in walked the young man from earlier that day—Lucavion whose name she had heard when the girl was calling him.

His casual stride and carefree aura were the same as before, but there was a certain deliberateness in the way he moved as if he had come here with a purpose.

He wore the same worn clothes, his straw hat tilted low over his face, giving him an air of mystery that hadn't gone unnoticed throughout the day.

He glanced around briefly, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on Mariel. Their gazes met, and in that brief moment, Mariel knew why he was there. He had come alone, and the look he gave her confirmed it—he was here to talk.

Lucavion made his way to the bar counter, the casual confidence in his movements never faltering. He sat down, leaning slightly against the counter as if he had done it a hundred times before. His presence, while relaxed, still carried a quiet power that seemed to ripple subtly through the air.

Jorkin, one of Mariel's trusted staff members, approached Lucavion with a nod, ready to take his order. The young man exchanged a few words with him, his tone as light as ever before Jorkin disappeared to fetch whatever Lucavion had requested.

But Mariel's attention didn't waver. She continued wiping down the mug in her hand, though her focus remained on Lucavion. He had come for more than just a drink. The slight glance he had thrown her earlier had been enough of a signal.

'He's come to talk,'

Mariel thought, setting the mug aside. She wasn't sure what the conversation would entail, but she had an inkling that it would lead back to the starlight mana—the very thing that had stirred something deep within her that morning.

Mariel's expression remained as stern as ever as she approached Lucavion, her sharp gaze never wavering. She moved with the same commanding presence she always carried, her demeanor projecting the authority she was known for. To anyone watching, it would seem like a typical encounter between the inn's formidable owner and a patron who had caught her attention.

There were eyes on her, as there often were, given her reputation and the notable presence of this young man. But Mariel's experience told her that Lucavion wasn't the type to seek attention—at least, not the kind that came with being associated with her. She chose her approach carefully, both to test him and to maintain the illusion that this was just a regular interaction.

She stopped in front of him, her hands resting on her hips. For a moment, the inn seemed to quiet ever so slightly, the eyes of a few patrons subtly flicking toward them. Mariel's voice was low and even as she spoke.

"Is there something you need?" she asked, her tone neutral, giving no indication of their earlier recognition.

Lucavion, leaning back against the counter, let a small, amused smile cross his lips. His eyes gleamed with that familiar, playful light, and after a brief pause, he tilted his head up toward her.

"There's no need to act," he said softly, his smile widening just enough to carry a hint of mischief. "I don't mind the attention."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Mariel raised an eyebrow slightly. He had seen right through her, and what's more, he didn't care. His statement was clear: he wasn't concerned if people thought there was a connection between them if it meant drawing some attention. He didn't mind at all.

It was a bold response and one that made Mariel reevaluate her initial caution. This young man wasn't like most people who crossed paths with her. His confidence, his ability to read a situation, and his complete lack of concern for appearances spoke volumes.

'Interesting. Should I just call it youth?'

Mariel's stern expression couldn't help but soften just slightly, though her eyes remained focused and sharp. "Is that so?" she asked, a hint of curiosity creeping into her voice.

Lucavion gave her a knowing look as if he already understood far more than he was letting on. "After all," he continued, his voice casual but steady, "it's not often you get to talk to someone like you."

For the first time in a long while, Mariel found herself intrigued. Lucavion wasn't trying to hide, nor was he afraid of standing out. There was no pretense with him, and that made her wonder just how much he truly knew.

"Well then," Mariel replied, her voice now carrying a subtle warmth beneath the surface, "I suppose we have something to talk about after all."

"Indeed, we do have. Miss Little Bear."

The moment Lucavion spoke those words—

Miss Little Bear

—Mariel's eyes widened in surprise, her stern composure cracking for the first time in years. That name, the one she hadn't heard in decades, hit her like a wave of memory crashing down all at once. It was a name that only one person had ever called her, and hearing it now, from this young man, sent a chill down her spine.

Her mind raced back to a time when she had been just a young, reckless fighter—a mere mortal trying to survive in a world full of dangers far beyond her understanding. She had been on the brink of disaster, overwhelmed by an enemy that she had no chance of defeating when

he

had appeared. The figure of starlight, the being who had saved her life and set her on the path she would later follow. It was

he

who had called her by that name, with a smile on his face, teasing her for her stubborn courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

And now, this young man before her—Lucavion—was calling her the same name.

Her heart raced as the pieces fell into place. The purple light in his eyes, the starlight mana, the way he seemed to know more than he let on. This wasn't a coincidence.

Lucavion was connected to that figure

, the one who had shaped her life so profoundly all those years ago.

For a brief moment, Mariel was at a loss for words, the weight of the realization settling over her like a heavy blanket. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, almost reverent. "You… you know him."

Lucavion's smile widened slightly, his eyes twinkling with that same enigmatic glow. "It seems you remember," he said, his tone light but carrying a deeper meaning.

Mariel took a breath, steadying herself. "How do you…?" she began, but she already knew the answer. There was no need to ask the obvious. This young man, with his starlight mana and his knowledge of her past, was undeniably connected to the being who had once saved her.

A mix of emotions surged through her—gratitude, curiosity, and a strange sense of pride. If Lucavion truly was a disciple of that figure, then the fact that he had been sent here, or had come here, meant something. And the idea that

she

had been remembered by such a remarkable person filled her with an unexpected warmth.

"Well…..Master had spoken of you."

Mariel's heart swelled with both pride and a strange sense of honor. The fact that she had left such an impression on that mysterious figure—enough to be spoken of to his disciple—was something she hadn't expected. For a moment, she felt like that young adventurer again, standing in awe of the being who had saved her.

"I see," Mariel finally said, her voice steadier now, though the weight of the revelation still lingered. "It's been a long time."

Lucavion nodded, his smile never fading. "Indeed it has."