Shrouded in black mist, swept by a howling wind, it felt as though the apocalypse had descended. The entire world quivered in fear.

Amidst this soul-tearing terror and despair, only a pair of majestic golden eyes could be seen—aloof, cold, gazing disdainfully from above.

"Hmph, ants."

The voice was icy, like a sharp blade, and with it came an engulfing darkness.

Resistance was futile. One could only succumb to death, swallowed whole by the impotence of their regretful weakness.

"Hiss—"

With a start, Moen sat up abruptly, still shaken.

But what met his eyes was not death and darkness, but an unfamiliar little room.

Golden embroidered curtains swayed slightly, reminding Moen of the drapes his maid had hand-stitched for the dormitory at the academy.

"Was it... a dream?"

He looked at his hands and instinctively touched his neck.

His skin was warm, his pulse steady.

Yes, still alive.

A surge of relief filled his chest, the joy of narrowly surviving, but before he could fully savor it, a jolt brought him back to reality.

After a moment of contemplation, he pulled aside the curtain. Brilliant sunlight pricked his eyes, almost bringing tears, but once he adjusted to the brightness, Moen realized he was in a carriage. Around him rode a silent procession of cavalrymen.

"You’re awake?"

A familiar voice rang out. Moen turned his head, discovering an elderly gentleman with a refined demeanor seated opposite him. He had no idea when the man had arrived.

Adolf, the Vice President of the Adventurers' Association, the Stargazer.

"Mr. Adolf."

Faced with this distinguished seasoned Crowned, Moen immediately prepared to stand and bow in greeting.

But a gentle force pressed him firmly back down.

"Stay there."

Adolf smiled wryly, adding, "I don't deserve your courtesy right now."

"What happened before was merely an accident—I hold no grudge against you, Mr. Adolf," Moen promptly said.

"But even so, it's still embarrassing."

Adolf sighed. "In the Adventurers' Association, failure is failure. There are no excuses. The money you paid beforehand—I’ll have it refunded to you."

"There’s no need."

Moen shook his head. "Compensation should match effort. Since Mr. Adolf did your utmost, how could I possibly take the money back? It would tarnish my Campbell family's reputation."

"But..."

"No buts."

Moen interrupted Adolf, smiling, "If Mr. Adolf still feels bad, treat the payment as a deposit for future collaboration.

After all..."

A sharp gleam flashed in Moen’s eyes.

"This matter cannot be swept under the rug so easily."

"…"

Adolf gave Moen a meaningful glance and then chuckled helplessly.

"Cunning little brat."

"Here I am."

Moen smiled, but his expression quickly grew solemn as he asked, "So, Mr. Adolf, what exactly happened?"

"This... should be my question to you."

"To me?"

"Indeed. When Disaster appeared, it vanished shortly afterwards. Subsequently, Lord Eller regrouped the military to search the forest. You two were found unconscious not far from its edge."

Adolf stroked his beard, frowning as he continued, "I’m curious, then—what happened within the forest? Disaster awakening is a monumental event that could shake the entire empire.

Moreover, the traces left at the scene suggest you had direct confronted that Disaster."

"...I’m not sure."

After a brief silence, Moen shook his head.

"As you saw, I had the misfortune of encountering that Disaster, and... and as soon as I saw it, I fainted, knowing nothing afterward."

The thought that Disaster had awakened because of him was something Moen wouldn’t dream of admitting.

So, he concocted a half-truth.

"Honestly, at the time, I thought I was dead. But since I survived, perhaps Disaster awakened for some reason and merely passed by."

"Passed by..."

Adolf’s gaze swept over Moen again. After a moment of thought, he murmured, "That explanation might be the only plausible one."

Had Disaster truly been awakened by the Campbell boy, he wouldn’t be sitting here so calmly discussing it with Adolf now.

After all, it was that particular Disaster. Even the mere release of its aura had caused fear to stir within Adolf—a Crowned.

Adolf sighed internally.

The Deathbane Dragon, Hamline.

From its overwhelming presence alone, it seemed even more terrifying than Leviathan.

"By the way, Mr. Adolf, how is Lea?"

Moen suddenly recalled something and asked anxiously.

Now that his mind had cleared, he remembered the future saintess who’d recklessly turned back to face the Disaster, falling like a broken-winged butterfly in a scene drenched with blood—tragic and breathtakingly beautiful.

"Relax, she’s safe for now."

Seeing Moen’s worried expression, Adolf’s eyes flashed with amusement as he replied, smiling, "She’s in the other carriage."

"That’s good..."

Moen breathed a sigh of relief, but his tone immediately sharpened, as though realizing something.

"Safe for now?"

"Yes, the girl’s injuries are far more severe than yours. The black mist of Disaster has infiltrated her body. We summoned the best healing mage from around these parts, but they can only temporarily suppress her wounds."

"What do we do then?" Moen asked urgently.

"Don’t worry. While we lack solutions, Holy City surely has them."

Adolf pulled the curtain aside, gazing at the rapidly retreating scenery outside. He reassured, "We’re heading to the Holy City at maximum speed. The girl will be fine—I stake my honor on that."

"I see."

Finally, Moen exhaled deeply, completely easing his mind.

"Then I’ll entrust her to you, Mr. Adolf."

"That’s only natural."

"Can I visit her now?"

"Of course."

Thinking of the well-known betrothal involving this young Campbell heir, coupled with various rumors, Adolf’s teasing and gossipy demeanor grew more pronounced. Stroking his beard, he smiled, "Wait a moment—I’ll make arrangements."

"Thank you."

...

After Adolf left, Moen finally had a chance to calm down and ponder recent events.

"I actually survived."

"Facing the same Disaster as Lea, whose sacred light couldn’t even automatically heal her wounds, yet my injuries have completely recovered."

"And..."

He extended his hand, staring at his long fingers, then slowly clenched them.

"I feel as though my physical strength has even increased. Why?"

"And what is this strange sensation?"

Since earlier, an inexplicable but mild heat had been suppressed deep within Moen’s abdomen. Yet, no matter how much he tried to sense its origin, he couldn’t identify the nature of the feeling.

Thankfully, the peculiar sensation hadn’t caused any tangible effects—for now.

Meanwhile, the Black Book remained silent.

"Who saved me?"

Moen mused, running his fingers over his chin.

"Could it really be that Disaster awakened merely to take a stroll?"

The mysteries became more baffling.

"Wait."

Moen suddenly started searching himself.

His previously tattered shirt had been replaced with finer, softer garments. Judging by their quality, even a single piece could buy enough black bread for Ariel to survive for decades.

But that wasn’t his concern.

Instead...

"Thankfully, it’s still here."

When he pulled out the letter from his inner pocket, Moen wiped off cold sweat.

Luckily, whoever had changed his clothes had been meticulous. Losing this letter—essential to determining whether his trip to Holy City would be a comedy or a tragedy—would have been catastrophic.

"Huh? What’s this?"

Moen noticed a note stuck to the letter that hadn’t been there before.

The note wasn’t particularly special; it contained only one sentence:

"Keep it up, young man~"

It made absolutely no sense.

Yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, seeing the somewhat adorable handwriting gave Moen chills despite the already warm weather.

A peculiar feeling—that he’d unwittingly been tricked by someone unknown—suddenly surfaced in his heart.

Eyes wide, Moen scanned his surroundings vigilantly.

Damn it. Who’s trying to harm me again?