episode_0004

A beautiful woman woke under the blazing sunlight pouring through the window, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. The moment she moved, the old bed creaked noisily.

She rose from the bed, stretching with a small yawn. Grabbing her clothes from the wardrobe, she changed and carelessly tossed her pajamas aside.

Smoothing down her tousled hair and adjusting her outfit, she glanced at the mirror on the desk—a reflection she still hadn’t adjusted to. Unable to bear the sight, she covered the mirror and stepped out of the room.

As soon as she exited, the sound of loud chatter greeted her. The silver-haired mage locked eyes with a man who had been waiting for her. In a low voice, Arina called his name.

“Ian.”

She walked past him, descending the inn’s stairs as she spoke.

“What brings you here so early? A noble young master like you, visiting such a place—did you land a good commission?”

“You walked away yesterday before I could say what I needed to.”

Ian followed as she brushed past him. Once downstairs, Arina sat at a table on the first floor, ordering breakfast. He took the seat across from her.

“Arina. You’re my friend. That’s how I see you.”

His awkward declaration made Arina tilt her head before she snorted, laughter bubbling out. She poured herself water, took a sip, and wiped her lips.

“How… abrupt. Honestly, this is sudden.”

“You said it yourself yesterday—that you might be fated to never have friends. But I decided to believe we are. What about you? Do you still see me as just another stranger?”

Arina’s eyes widened briefly before she settled back into her usual relaxed smirk.

“Did you come here at dawn just to say that? What a waste of effort over someone like me. I take it you didn’t sleep with Milen last night? Pity. She might seem flighty, but she’s more than decent for a one-night stand.”

“Arina—”

“Like she said, your time’s better spent on other women. Sure, Milen’s got a sharp tongue, but she isn’t a bad catch. Surprisingly picky, too—walls up for most men. Unless you’re dead set on nobility, why not try—”

“Arina!”

Ian slammed the table, cutting her off as she ignored his reaction. Not one to push things too far, Arina leaned back, crossing her arms.

“This isn’t about my love life. I asked if you consider me a friend. Why shift the topic? Do you not trust my words?”

His tone was low, anger unconcealed. His sincerity had been outright dismissed—of course it stung. Arina sighed, knowing she had to address something uncomfortable.

“…Yeah. I don’t.”

Ian gritted his teeth at her blunt refusal. Watching his expression, she explained.

“I’m not doubting your sincerity. I believe you truly don’t see me that way. And I am grateful for your concern—it moved me.”

Her words were honest, devoid of self-deprecation or mockery. For the first time, Ian saw a genuine smile from her.

He faltered for a moment, but the heart of the conversation lay ahead, so he waited quietly.

Arina took another sip before continuing.

“But what’s your kindness rooted in? Camaraderie? You’ve had plenty of companions as an adventurer. Why single me out after just a few weeks? Pity, then? The world’s full of people worse off—especially in times like these.”

She stopped there, but Ian understood. No matter how he framed it—friendship, camaraderie—his care stemmed from an underlying attraction.

“Feelings don’t change that easily. Maybe I could accept you… but I can’t. You know how I am. Just looking at a woman’s face makes me sick—including my own. Living as someone else’s woman is unthinkable. You’d be wasting effort on someone who can’t return it.”

“……”

“Don’t do this. Don’t throw your life away over me.”

An uneasy silence lingered after her words. The tension was thick as breakfast arrived. Both mechanically ate their soup.

Finishing first, Arina clapped her hands together, flashing a smile as if nothing had happened.

“Shall we hit the dungeon? I think we can clear it today—the end’s in sight.”

Ian watched her act like everything was normal before forcing a smile.

“Yeah. We’ve got enough time if we head out now.”

Just like that, Ian reverted to being Arina’s temporary party member—a comrade, nothing more. His lips smiled, but inside, it was different.

Long before meeting Arina, she had been a wanderer with nowhere to go. Ian had wanted to be her anchor, a place she could return to—a small wall to lean on when she had nowhere else.

Arina despised women, and men only saw her looks, demanding more. Fate doomed her to loneliness. So, he resolved to be just her friend instead.

But even that was rejected.

I really can’t reach her.

He swore to play his role as a comrade, praying someone would someday unlock her heart.

—

Ian’s father, Aiden Felix, had been granted land for his wartime deeds. But the estate came with an unforeseen curse: a hidden dungeon lurking beneath.

Its monsters weren’t ordinary—hunting parties struggled to subdue them, and the creatures frequently ravaged the land.

Ian became an adventurer to find reliable allies and conquer the dungeon himself, sparing his aging father. That’s how he met Arina. While scouting for recruits in a nearby village, he crossed paths with her—already en route to the Felix estate’s dungeon.

She insisted she could clear it alone. Ian objected, but after witnessing her overwhelming strength in their spar, he feared she’d die if she ventured in solo. Countless pleas later, she finally accepted his company.

For weeks, they fought side by side. Clearing each floor of monsters solved the estate’s problems swiftly, and soon, they descended to the dungeon’s deepest layer.

“This should be the last chamber.”

Arina’s magic sensed the dungeon’s layout. Before them stood a massive door—instantly recognizable as a boss room to veterans like them. Whatever lay beyond was their final foe.

“So our adventure ends here.”

Ian muttered, torn between relief and melancholy. Ignoring him, Arina stared coldly at the door before speaking.

“I’ll cast first. Keep your sword ready and open the door on my signal. You know the timing, right?”

She was already weaving her spell. To Ian, who’d spent weeks fighting alongside her, this was routine.

He nodded at her back, watching the intricate, geometric magic circle form. Whether its beauty came from the spell itself or the caster behind it, he wasn’t sure.

Once the magic surged, Ian flung the door open. Inside, a towering giant with a lion’s head sat upon a throne, gripping a colossal greatsword. Its majesty screamed boss monster at a glance.

Roaring furiously, its voice alone could’ve stunned lesser adventurers. Even Ian, hardened by experience, stiffened in place.

“Who dares disturb my slum—”

The monstrous words died mid-sentence—its head flew off instantly. A single slash had decapitated it. Opposite the corpse stood Arina, her outstretched staff still crackling with energy.

“I knew it, but you’re even more of a monster than I thought.”

She scoffed.

“Heh. Took you long enough to realize.”

Heading behind the throne, she uncovered a hidden chest—typical boss behavior—and easily cracked its lock. Blowing dust off the contents, she revealed a rainbow-hued gem that deformed like jelly under her grip.

“Found it. The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Is this why you took on the dungeon?”

Watching her handle it delicately, Ian asked.

“Yeah. Took me years just to track its location.”

“Then our business here is done.”

“Right. Time to rest and move on. Hate to say it, but this is goodbye.”

“Pity. I wanted to witness more of Riel Frost’s legendary journeys firsthand.”

Despite avoiding people, Arina had stayed in this village for weeks. Beyond clearing the dungeon, she’d resolved minor local issues, earning many’s gratitude.

Ian nearly suggested a farewell party when another voice cut through the chamber.

“So you are Riel Frost?”

Clicking heels echoed as a woman stepped from the shadows. Arina’s frigid glare practically impaled her.

“Open your eyes. Where exactly do you see Riel Frost?”

“Spare the act. I came prepared—silver hair, blue eyes, female mage. How many fit that description? Isn’t that right, Grand Mage?”

Arina’s eyes sharpened. The stranger’s aristocratic demeanor—obsessed with accessorizing—screamed noble.

Yet she wore flat-heeled shoes and carried a slender sword—rare enough that Arina would’ve remembered encountering another wielder.

“Who sent you?”

She spat the question, though the answer was obvious. Only one person knew her current state and could hunt her down.

The woman grinned provocatively.

“You already know. The man who’ll be your husband.”

No fear showed in her eyes even beneath Arina’s smoldering fury.

“Let me correct you: Riel Frost never married.”

“Then we’ll call him your groom-to-be, shall we? The result’s the same. He’s looking for you. Running’s pointless—his scouts are everywhere.”

“What?!”

Ian shouted, startled. Arina remained still, disdain dripping from her voice.

“Pfft. So he’s rallied an army of trash like you to hunt me? Figures. Pathetic—no, hilarious.”

Suddenly, Arina vanished.

Before Ian or the woman could react, she reappeared above them, seizing the woman’s head and slamming it into the ground. Enhanced by magic, Arina pinned her effortlessly.

This was the might of Arina—once the strongest fighter in the Hero’s Party. Few outside its members could rival her.

Yet the woman, undaunted, spat out dirt and laughed.

“Kill me if you want. They’ll find you regardless. The entire kingdom will hunt you down.”

No fear of death colored her words. Threats were useless.

Arina released her with a scoff.

“I don’t care. Tell that man—tell all his whores—Riel Frost is coming for him.”