It had been a long time since I'd seen another village, ever since I lost my comrades on that last mission.
I didn't expect to find myself back so soon on the outskirts of Cornhill, watching the villagers and hunters going about their day… yet somehow, I'd grown used to this sight—and even missed it.
That was our penultimate stop before the city of "Rukīzat al‑Bilātīn."
Despite the days I'd spent with him—the Knight—our bond still felt awkward. He showed no signs of fear or trembling, yet I believed he held some awe of people. I don't know his origins, not even his real name. It's not that he's hiding it on purpose; as he once told me, he simply can't remember anything… except that he is a "Knight." He said it with genuine confusion one afternoon.
"Runa, look over there… beautiful, isn't it?"
He said this, pointing toward the golden cornfield. His face was hidden behind that dark helm, but his tone was innocent. It reminded me of my little brother and made me grateful—he'd saved me from goblins the day we first met.
We entered the village after walking along the bright fields, the wind calm. A few villagers and young hunters greeted us. The Knight drew every eye with his armor caked in dust and blood. Even I looked less refined than usual… maybe because I'm still young.
So I suggested we stop by the public baths to wash off and change our filthy clothes. I saw it as a chance to rest—and maybe finally get him to remove that gloomy armor so I could see his face.
Until now, his features had been completely unknown. He'd always refused to take off his helm.
More than once, I imagined—maybe he's naturally shy, or maybe he bears some terrible scar. I told myself this out loud as we headed to the bathhouse near the tavern and the Hunters' Guild building.
When we arrived, it was still early morning and hardly anyone was around. I took a deep breath and spoke up.
"Excuse me…" I called to him softly. He turned to me, and I saw his armor shake with tension—I knew I had him.
"Since we're bathing here, we should split up from this point. You go to the men's bath, and I'll go to the women's."
He looked at me for a moment, then started to walk in without a word. I hurried after him, trying to give him one last push—hoping he'd remove that blasted helm. I really wanted to see what lay beneath it.
"Wouldn't it be better to take off your armor before you go in? It might crack." I tried to persuade him.
"Why?" he stammered.
"Because it could break. Do you want that? And how will you even bathe wearing it?"
He answered calmly, "Ha… it's crack‑resistant. And maybe… I'll wash it a bit."
Then he stepped inside, leaving my words trailing behind. "Crack‑resistant," he'd said… yet here it was, scratched, darkened, full of gouges. I felt a slight surge of anger.
But I quickly forgot all that once I stripped off my clothes and stood fully naked. The cold water pelted my bare skin from the fountain's spout, stinging me sharply. Even though the bathhouse was almost empty this morning, I felt a little awkward with a few girls around.
My body was slender, balanced, even alluring in its girlish delicacy… except for my chest, which seemed small next to the others. Their curves were fuller, more pronounced… mine—my "orange seeds"—were barely noticeable. Still, I didn't care much.
I continued shampooing my hair carefully, combing it through with my fingers, and was nearly done scrubbing my body when one of the girls approached and started talking without so much as "hello"—though I hate chit‑chat in the bath, even with Marlene.
"Are you the enchanting girl who accompanies that tall Knight?" she asked playfully, her generous bust gleaming in the steam.
I looked at her. She had long, wavy, honey‑colored hair and a confident, friendly gaze.
"What about it? Do you need me… or him?" I replied evenly, but her curiosity wasn't deterred.
"Oh no, my dear. You know I have a boyfriend, and there are four of us. We're looking for a fifth member tonight—we're going on a raiding mission in an old nearby dungeon… He said he'd prefer someone magical."
She explained her plan, but I politely declined. I told her I wasn't free—and that my body had barely survived death a few days ago… thanks to giant wolves and a madwoman.
She understood and smiled, then introduced herself: "I'm Sofia." She said she hoped I'd change my mind soon… but I didn't give it a second thought. Fun and graceful as she was—with a figure to match—I wasn't in the mood for adventure.
When I finished bathing, I dried off carefully, then slipped into a snug blue‑and‑white dress, loose at the legs with embroidered hems. I restored my usual elegance, cleanliness, and balance… and now only waited for him. The Knight.
But he was taking forever.
I wondered: isn't it usually the lady who's late, not the Knight?
When he finally emerged, his armor wasn't shining as I'd imagined—and he didn't appear to have taken it off… or maybe he did while bathing and put it back on.
"Ridiculous!" I muttered to myself in annoyance.
He approached, complimenting me—telling me how radiant and beautiful I looked. His words came out hesitant, nervous, shy… How could a man in such imposing armor be so bashful?
His praise embarrassed me. And I… a girl of tender feelings and quick emotions… I'm not good at hiding my blush.
We set off toward the nearest tavern to grab a bite and rent a room for the night. Our stroll was aimless around the edge of that little village, which didn't have many vacancies—everything felt dull. So I kept myself entertained by trying to get the Knight's helm off in every way I could think of… all to no avail.
I even cast a gust‑of‑wind spell on him, hoping it would knock the helm loose or blow him over so it'd fall off—but nothing happened. I wondered to myself: was he dodging it on purpose? Even when the local kids ambushed us in play, it failed. And when I pretended to trip in front of him to yank off his helm… still no luck. I got tired of trying, caused more trouble for him and the villagers, and ended up apologizing more times than I care to admit.
I bet he was thinking, "What is this clumsy girl doing in my path?"
We passed the Hunters' Guild building, where hunters came and went—registering quests, ranking up, and collecting their rewards. The Knight went in hesitantly to ask about joining. A young, well‑dressed clerk explained that the only requirement was age—it was that simple.
She walked him through the rank system, from E up to S and beyond… and I suddenly realized with surprise: could it be that, after everything with the goblins, wolves, and that crazy maid, he wasn't even a hunter to begin with?
I asked him—and he replied with deadpan bluntness, confirming it.
I was shocked. I couldn't even muster my usual chatter.
I asked if he intended to sign up. He looked interested, so I went ahead and paid the hefty membership fee for him, muttering, "What a stingy clerk!"
The process was straightforward. He was led into the testing chamber to determine his specialty—swordsman, assassin, or mage—and it was obvious he was a swordsman, given the skills I'd seen. He hardly needed a test.
Next came the Awakening Trial. He placed his hand on a dark crystal—standard in every guild—to reveal his unique abilities, potential, and rank. The moment he touched it, it pulsed red and then went dark.
The room went silent. The clerk watched intently as the data printed onto thick vellum.
His rank appeared: E+.
Not surprising—every average or unskilled hunter starts there. But snickers rippled around the room. One guy laughed, "All that fearsome armor… and you end up E+? The rank of losers!"
I whispered to the Knight, "Don't listen to them—they're idiots." And he didn't.
The clerk read the report out loud:
"Rank: E+. Hunter type: Awakened. Possesses magical abilities and a mana reservoir… and ten special skills."
Murmurs rose. Shock, disbelief. Ten skills? That was unheard of. She added, "They're not active yet, but according to the system, they'll activate soon." She looked puzzled. "Strangely, the skill names are indecipherable… written in heavy script, in an unknown language. It might be a glitch… I'm not sure."
Finally, she handed him the report and the signet ring that displays its wearer's skills. He didn't put it on—just held it in his hand.
We left together, moving away from the crowd. I watched him silently, the ring still clutched in his palm.
I saw him happy… Yes, I still couldn't make out his face behind the helm, but the shine on his armor and the way it trembled told me everything—even though there was no obvious reason. I congratulated him too, honestly and with real excitement, wearing a smile I didn't even know I had.
Then Sofia called out to me, even though I'd never told her my name. She was standing with several of her crew, all armed and ready to leave. She greeted me warmly, as if we were old friends, even though we'd only met in that steamy bath for a moment. She asked if I'd changed my mind. I said no, but she pressed again. This time I brushed her off.
That's when a handsome young man stepped in, introduced himself as "Grifor," and — it seemed — led their group. He shook the Knight's hand firmly, fist to fist, and asked if he was free to join them on a quick job: raiding a nearby dungeon, promising loot and rewards. I tried to intervene, claiming the Knight was exhausted and needed rest… but he stopped me.
He volunteered himself for the mission, saying calmly, "Maybe I should go… actually, I want to." I felt a twinge of frustration—not at his choice, but at myself. I realized how little I really knew him, and that I had no right to decide for him… even though he'd saved me and stayed by my side until now.
Before he left, he grabbed my head with his rough, iron gauntlet and said, "Wait for me… come back to me when you're fully well again." I don't know why I burst into tears. Maybe it was because I felt it was goodbye. That the time had come. But it wasn't.
When I quickly wiped my tears away, I told him, trembling, "I'll be waiting… yes, I'll wait for you."
I don't know why I was so emotional when he insisted on going with them. You see, I'd grown attached to him over all the time we'd spent together. In the end, I remember he came late that night after the dungeon run, his armor as filthy as ever—just like I'd gotten used to.