“So… this was your main reason for coming to this city?”

Caro finally pieced it together. Arnold’s “old friend” might not be Hua Fanlin or Mistie Fanlin at all—it could be *that* ancient entity: the Ancient Spirit Tree, which had stood for eons bestowing “wisdom” upon seekers.

Arnold neither confirmed nor denied. “Truth is, I’d originally planned to sneak into the dungeon to investigate. I just happened to run into Hua and accepted her request. The Fanlin House’s affairs? I could’ve ignored them—it was merely a side errand. What truly matters is the labyrinth.”

He shook his head. “Sure, I usually don’t act without payment—but I can’t stand by while the labyrinth spirals out of control. These citizens are innocent. I can’t ignore that.”

*Damn… Is this the quiet resolve of someone worthy of the Hero title?* Truly moving.

“Matters like the Fanlin House’s stem from their own interests and choices,” Arnold continued, turning to Caro with solemn gravity. “But these people had no choice—they’re suffering undeserved calamity. If I hadn’t known, fine. But now that I do, I must act. For what it’s worth: though the Ancient Spirit Tree is revered as a symbol of wisdom and has offered guidance for ages… I don’t believe it’s human.”

As he spoke, Caro recalled something. “When I visited the Ancient Spirit Tree before, I saw Mistie praying for a leaf. Did Hua run into you because that leaf gave advice?”

“Possibly,” Arnold began, then paused as if remembering. “No—likely not. The labyrinth is under the Fanlin House’s control. Even if I slipped in, resolving it requires notifying them first. So even if she hadn’t found me… I’d have appeared anyway.”

As he spoke, Arnold formed a knife-hand gesture. Golden light traced his fingers. Gently, he made two precise cuts on the cake.

“Here. Let’s split this,” he said, clearly shifting topics.

Caro frowned slightly, taking the slice. “What about the labyrinth’s aftermath? And hey—I provided the knife *and* plates! Did you think that move was cool?” *(…Okay, it was kinda cool.)*

“You shouldn’t get involved. It’s dangerous. The Ancient Spirit Tree’s power is immense.” Arnold picked up a small plate. “That little trick? Nothing worth mentioning. The Tree’s existed too long—I can’t gauge its strength. If you’re curious… don’t be. Don’t pry about how it works or anything. Once I’ve settled things, I’ll share details. You can write the story then. Sounds fair?”

He offered this with honest concern.

Caro knew he was right. “Still… it’s not solely your burden, is it? If you’re unsure, why not summon the kingdom’s Sword Saint? This *is* the kingdom’s affair.”

“Logically, yes—leave it to Ronatia. But…” Arnold’s tone shifted, brimming with quiet confidence. “I won’t lose. My estimate? This Tree’s strength still falls short of the dragon I slew. And even facing the Demon King? I wouldn’t die easily. Surviving? That part’s simple.”

Caro froze, cake forgotten, stepping back twice. “You… are you the Chosen Hero?”

He spoke like the Demon King was just another opponent.

*Wait—didn’t that Flame Demonkin hint at something ambiguous between Arnold and the Demon King’s daughter?*

*Huh? Is this one of those “hero dates Demon King’s daughter to build human-demon harmony” tropes? Those have been trending lately…*

Caro’s mind whirled. What world had she landed in? For two years, she’d just gathered basics—she hadn’t even left the starter village.

But the moment she asked, “Are you the Chosen Hero?”, Arnold’s expression dimmed. Caro noticed instantly.

“Of course not,” he said quickly, smoothing his features into that familiar cheerful smile. “If I were, I’d be fighting the Demon King. And honestly—if I were the Chosen Hero, Cassipero couldn’t have kicked me out, right?”

“…True,” Caro murmured. *Definitely stepped wrong. Better tread carefully—pride matters.* “So… what *actually* marks someone as the Chosen Hero?”

Arnold answered readily. “In Adventurers’ Guild terms: skills range Lv.1 to Lv.10. Lv.1–2? Copper Rank. Lv.3–4 with quest? Silver. Then Gold, Mithril. Lv.9 skill? Apply for Brave Rank. Lv.10? Heroic Rank. Every Heroic Rank Adventurer has at least one Lv.10 skill.”

“I see…” *So Arnold has one… maybe more?*

“The Chosen Hero has two unique traits,” Arnold continued. “First: their skills can reach Lv.11. Surpassing all limits… stepping into the Demon King’s domain.”

“…Isn’t that broken?”

Arnold nodded. “That’s ‘divine selection.’ And the second mark?” He met Caro’s eyes, voice deliberate: “The Chosen Hero can… hold two professions.”

“!”

*Overpowered?!* Caro blinked. “But… weren’t some Chosen Heroes slain by the Demon King?”

“Correct.”

“Then how can you say the Demon King couldn’t kill you easily?” She stared, suspicion sharpening. *If only Lv.11 heroes challenge the Demon King… his threat level is insane.*

Arnold laughed, scratching his head. “Win? No chance. I survive *only* because I have multiple Lv.10 skills. Winning without Lv.11? Nearly impossible.”

“…Details?”

“My secret.” He gave her a sly, mysterious look. “Pay a price, bro—I *might* let you peek at my status panel.”

Curious? Yes. But Caro refused. *No way. That grin screams “embarrassing favor.”*

Felt like something Arnold would do.

Besides—peeping panels violated boundaries. True connection meant respecting space. Overstepping bred dislike.

And that smug tone… *Ugh, flexing about Lv.10 skills. Smooth, Arnold. Waiting right here with those earnest eyes.*

Caro played it cool. “Cake’s eaten. I’m back to work. Handle your business. Just tell me the outcome later.”

She’d tamed her curiosity—Arnold had a point. Danger thrilled her, yes… but she’d never burden others for thrills.

Arnold was the type to carry dead weight. If she tagged along and slowed him? Unacceptable.

She had pride.

And yeah—she *was* weak.

Hmm—

“Take Lucy with you.” Caro chanted softly. The ghostly lady shimmered into view.

“I tested it: Lucy lasts half a day. If trouble hits and she vanishes, I’ll sense it. I’ll resummon her for details—and call help if needed. At least she relays messages. If things go badly, the Fanlin House might reach the Sword Saint.”

Reasonable.

“Plus,” Caro added lightly, “Lucy’s perspective will enrich the story. Combined with your account, it’ll feel more authentic.”

Lucy beamed, floating to perch on Arnold’s shoulder like a tiny bird.

Caro hid a knowing smile. *Yep… Lucy’s got a crush.* Too bad she’s so small. If “Summon Lucy” ever hit Lv.10… could she become corporeal?

…A distant dream.