Chapter 1: The World's Strongest Adventurer Appears
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The wyvern's screech echoed through the valley, sharp and angry, as its wings beat against the sky. Below it stood a lone man with a massive greatsword resting casually on his shoulder, his dark cloak fluttering in the updraft.
Arden Valen didn't flinch.
"Loud," he muttered, squinting up at the screeching beast as it circled above him.
The people who had begged the Guild for help were long gone, watching from the safety of a nearby hill. They expected a team of elite adventurers to take on the monster.
They didn't expect him.
The wyvern dove. Arden didn't move until the last possible second.
In one smooth motion, he stepped forward and swung.
A single flash of steel.
A single arc of wind.
The wyvern's screech cut short. Its body crashed into the ground behind Arden, severed cleanly in two. The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the soft hum of Arden's sword returning to rest against his shoulder.
The watching villagers erupted in cheers.
"Is it over already?"
"Did you see that swing?!"
"He didn't even try!"
Arden sighed and walked toward the fallen beast, pulling out a cloth to clean his blade. "Guess dinner's settled for a week."
He wasn't trying to show off. This was just another job. He didn't even know what SSS-Rank meant anymore—it wasn't like there were others to compare it to.
He finished cleaning his sword, slid it into the sheath across his back, and started walking back down the trail toward town. He wanted to report the job, get paid, maybe find a quiet inn, and—
"Wait!"
A voice, clear and commanding, rang out behind him.
Arden blinked, turning around.
A woman rode toward him on a snow-white steed, her long silver-blonde hair glinting in the sun, flowing like silk. She wore an elegant coat of armor with intricate blue filigree, and her expression was as cold as her title: The Ice Princess of the North.
Lady Elenora Aurelion.
Arden immediately tensed. Not because she was a threat—he could sense her mana, powerful but restrained—but because he recognized that face from multiple Guild posters.
"...What does a noble want with me?" he asked warily.
Elenora slid down from her horse with the grace of a trained knight, her boots clicking against the stones. She approached, eyes sharp, lips pressed in a line.
"Arden Valen," she said, stopping a few steps away. "I seek your hand in marriage."
Arden stared at her.
The wind blew a little stronger.
A bird chirped in the distance.
He blinked. "...Huh?"
"I am Lady Elenora Aurelion, first daughter of Duke Aurelion, and the Shield of Frostmarch," she said firmly. "I've evaluated your strength, character, and deeds. I have decided you are worthy to be my husband."
A moment of silence passed.
Then another.
"Okay," Arden said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm gonna need you to run that by me again. Slowly."
Elenora tilted her head, looking mildly annoyed. "Was I unclear?"
"Very clear. That's the problem."
He could feel the eyes of the villagers again, watching them from afar. This wasn't good. A noble proposing marriage—publicly—was going to spark rumors. And Arden hated rumors. They tended to attract more nobles. And reporters. And even worse… bards.
"Lady Elenora," he said carefully. "You don't even know me."
"I have studied your exploits thoroughly," she replied. "You are strong, disciplined, respectful to civilians, and uninterested in political power. You are exactly what I desire."
That last part made him pause. "...You want a husband who doesn't want power?"
She nodded. "Yes. That way, I retain control of my house while benefiting from your strength. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement."
"Wow," Arden muttered. "Romantic."
She blinked. "Do you desire a more traditional courtship process?"
He sighed. "Look, I'm flattered, really. But I'm just a guy who swings a sword and wants a warm bath at the end of the day. Marriage? That's a lot."
"Then allow me to accompany you," she said, stepping closer. "Consider it a trial."
"A trial."
"I will join your travels. Fight beside you. Live beside you. If you find me unsuitable after thirty days, I shall withdraw my offer."
Arden pinched the bridge of his nose. "And if I say no now?"
"I will still follow you," she said calmly. "But I shall do so in secret instead."
Arden stared at her.
She wasn't joking.
"You nobles are intense."
"I am not a noble," she replied. "I am your future wife."
He groaned.
But he also couldn't deny one thing—she was skilled. Having an ice mage with knight-level combat training on his team would make dungeons a lot easier. And she didn't seem clingy—just… determined. Like she had already made peace with the idea.
Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.
Arden exhaled. "Fine. Thirty days. No promises."
Elenora smiled faintly. It was small, barely a curve of her lips, but it changed her whole face. She looked... human. Not just the Ice Princess.
"I will not disappoint you," she said.
"You already have," he muttered under his breath.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."
He turned and started walking down the hill toward the town. Elenora fell in step beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He glanced sideways. "So… do you have any travel gear?"
"I brought three trunks."
He blinked. "Three what now?"
"Trunks. With clothing, supplies, personal enchantments, and reading material."
"You're going to carry them yourself, right?"
She gave him a cool glance. "Do I look like a porter?"
"Oh boy," Arden muttered.
Thirty days. Just thirty days.
What could possibly go wrong?
To be continued.