Chapter 34: It Begins to Be Afraid.

Generally speaking, mercenaries and knights don’t get along, but shared interests can forge uneasy alliances.

Here’s the intriguing part: who could command the knights? The figure behind this is deeply curious, and it’s one reason the emperor sent the kingdom’s army to aid Phoenix County.

The kingdom’s army naturally became the main force in the battle. As for the adventurers? While individual rogue adventurers were strong, warfare was beyond their expertise…

In the distance, toward the orphanage, towering flames wrapped in a phoenix shadow clashed with the grotesque giant. Many high-tier adventurers rushed to help—while they might lag in organized warfare, they excelled at taking down bosses.

Aphrosia, leaning on a glowing golden spear, limped toward the twelve radiant pillars. She didn’t aid Count Phoenix or the allied forces outside—she’d only transformed three days ago, knew few spells, and would only get in the way. The pressing question was: with the magic array activated, why were the pillars still pulsing with intense energy?

She touched her chest, where faint green light signaled a slow healing spell. As an apprentice mage, her abilities were limited, and her wounds mended sluggishly. After the brutal fight, her clothes were tattered, her white thigh-high stockings torn in several places, her delicate face smudged with dirt, dried blood crusting her lips. Though her body was battered, the resolve in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“There has to be another way…”

She propped her spear aside, gloved fingertips tracing the eerie runes on a pillar. Eyes closed, long lashes trembling, her mind raced, her left hand sustaining the healing spell—a feat of multitasking few could manage. Sweat slid down her cheeks, temples throbbing from mental strain. Finding the right clue in a sea of knowledge was like searching for a needle in a haystack, made worse by her poor condition and growing anxiety.

Suddenly, Aphrosia opened her eyes and leaped back, spear in hand—not because she found a clue, but because a monster like the orphanage’s giant lunged at her.

Lips pursed, she gripped her spear tightly. She was better at close combat than magic—proficient with bows, spears, scythes, knives, and swords, especially the Akalanti-style spear technique. Her elven mother claimed it came from an ancient family, but Aphrosia found no record in any history book. After her mother vanished, she studied alone with a memory stone, taking countless detours and enduring endless hardship. She never complained—if she couldn’t wield magic, she’d stand tall with martial prowess, her way to survive in a world of swords and sorcery. Soft power was useless without hard strength.

The monster charged ferociously. Aphrosia stopped her healing spell, thrusting her spear three times. The beast staggered back. She swept horizontally, but a sharp clang rang out—her spear slid off its rotten flesh, numbing her hands, leaving no mark.

Unconvinced, she infused her spear with Radiance magic and struck again. The force was stronger, but still didn’t pierce. The lingering light burned briefly before the creature’s muddy flesh devoured it.

A familiar sense of powerlessness hit her. This time, no god would save her—her attacks only pushed it back.

“Dawn’s Grace!”

Aphrosia shouted, her light-based magic surging, pouring into the spear. It glowed golden, imbued with armor-piercing and explosive effects, and she thrust again.

This time, the monster’s eyes flared purple, raising a shield that blocked her attack.

Aphrosia’s heart stirred: it was afraid now.