The carriage creaked as it rolled along the uneven path, the wheels groaning like they resented every inch of progress.
It moved slowly—not out of necessity, but as if even the horses doubted the wisdom of heading toward Mount Veispire.
The mountain loomed far to the west, draped in the last shades of dusk like a tired ghost refusing to leave. Kael sat inside the carriage, arms folded, eyes occasionally flicking to the girl beside him.
Selene was there again, seated opposite him, back straight, expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them like a third passenger.
This time, Kael had brought no knights from the House.
He told himself it was for training. A personal test. Besides, Selene was with him.
Rank 2 magician. Reliable enough.
He glanced at her.
"They say only low-ranked beasts roam near Veispire," he said.
"Rank 1s. Maybe a few 2s ?"
Selene gave a soft nod, eyes still on the shadowy horizon.
"Nothing that bites harder than a bad mood," she murmured.
Kael cracked a faint smile.
"So," he continued, shifting in his seat, "how do you tell what rank a beast is? They wear little signs around their necks?"
She looked at him finally, deadpan. "Yes. Some even carry resumes."
Kael snorted.
Selene's face didn't change.
"No. It's the mana. They radiate it, like heat. You can feel it if you're sensitive enough. Measure it, too. Rank 1 beasts are like warm coals. Rank 2s are more like... small furnaces. Anything above that, you run. Or die creatively."
"Oh, let's hope we don't encounter any," Kael said aloud, voice light.
'But given my luck...' Kael thought, staring at the floorboards,' nothing can be said for certain.'
Soon, they reached the foot of Mount Veispire.
Kael stepped out, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth.
The path ahead twisted upward into the fog, and above—faint but steady—snow was falling. Thin flakes, like ash from a quiet fire, drifted down from the mountain's cold breath.
He sighed.
Hiking. Of course.
Selene stepped down beside him, pulling her cloak tighter. Her breath curled in the air.
Behind them, the carriage turned without a word. The driver didn't even glance back—just snapped the reins and began the long journey home.
Kael watched the carriage disappear around the bend.
Selene looked at him.
Kael sighed, long and theatrical, the kind that carried more resignation than effort.
"Yes," he muttered, "I'm not that important."
Selene laughed. Not mocking, but amused in the way only someone who knew him well could be.
"You say that like it's a revelation," she said, turning toward the path.
"Come on, Your Grace of Modesty."
Kael followed, pulling his cloak tighter as snowflakes caught in his hair.
They began their ascent.
The path narrowed quickly, becoming less a trail and more a suggestion—mud giving way to stone, then snow.
The air thinned, crisp and biting. Kael expected the fatigue to set in within minutes. His body, after all, wasn't trained for this kind of exertion.
But an hour passed. Still no weariness.
He trudged alongside Selene, keeping pace without panting, without aching knees or screaming lungs.
Strange.
'So… spells really do mutate the body, 'he thought, flexing his fingers absently.
He glanced down at his skin. It looked paler than he remembered—washed in a faint, cold sheen, like moonlight on silver. He rubbed at the back of his hand, but the pale glow remained.
'Moonblade,' he guessed. 'Probably a side effect.'
Either that, or he was turning into a particularly dramatic ghost.
Not the worst outcome.
Selene caught him staring at his hand. "Something wrong?"
He blinked. "Just admiring my new undead chic."
She rolled her eyes. "Very fashionable. You'll blend right in—assuming the local beasts appreciate pale men with questionable survival instincts."
Kael opened his mouth to toss back another remark.
But then it came.
A low, guttural roar—not loud, but deep. A sound that rolled through the trees and into their bones, as if the mountain itself had growled.
WHOOOMPH—rrrhhhhhhh...
The air seemed to still.
Kael's words died on his tongue.
Selene's head snapped toward the direction of the sound. Their eyes met. No words needed.
They nodded once, silently.
And turned.
Toward the trees.
Toward the snow.
Toward the thing that had made that sound.
From the trees ahead, snow parted like curtains—quiet at first, then broken by the low crunch of heavy paws.
A beast emerged.
Large. Muscular. Silent, save for the steady sound of its approach.
Its fur was white, streaked with grey and faint hints of blue—like a mountain tiger from Kael's old world, but... wrong. The eyes gleamed faintly, not with hunger, but with something colder. Intent.
Kael's breath caught.
Selene narrowed her eyes. "Frostmane. Rank 1."
Kael's gaze sharpened. As he focused, he began to see it—just as Selene had described earlier. A faint shimmer of mana pulsing around the beast's body, subtle but unmistakable.
But unlike hers, his vision did more than sense mana.
He saw color.
A glimmering hue—pale azure, edged with silver—outlined the beast like an aura. It pulsed gently with its breath, rippling faintly as it moved. Beautiful. Terrifying. Alien.
'So that's the color of Rank 1 beasts,' Kael thought, eyes fixed on the spectral shimmer.
'SSS-rank talent really doesn't hold back.'
Selene stepped forward, raising her hand. "I'll take care of it. Watch and learn."
But Kael lifted his arm. "Wait."
She paused. "Why?"
He hesitated for a breath. Then said, "Actually… I wanted to give it a try."
Selene blinked. "You?"
Kael gave a short nod.
He wasn't brave. Quite the opposite..
But the system notification floating before him told a different story:
[Mission: First Hunt]
[Slay the Rank 1 Beast – Reward: ??? ]