The girl steps between us. She's got guts, turning her back to me. As her companion lowers her weapon, I do the same. In this brief exchange, I have to admit that the swordswoman moves better than I do; she has more command of the art of fencing. That's normal—my mastery is only at a low level. However, with the help of earth magic, I think I wouldn't have any problems defeating her.

"Both of you, stop, please. There's no need to fight," she says.

"And him? I won't let them hurt him," Melly responds.

I sigh. Ronan is draining Octavius, who is pale and looks like he might collapse at any moment, as if he doesn't have the strength to keep himself upright.

I'm going to have to say something to Ronan. A level 7 mage can't have much health—I only have seven points myself. However, it's not necessary. He stops on his own.

"My lady, shall we go and let them continue with their fight?" he asks me.

"Without interfering?" I grin. "Poor Tom got hurt saving their tank from this idiot mage who wouldn't cancel his spell."

Said idiot is weakly recovering. Melly rushes to give him a health potion.

"Tom? I see it has a name. Give him my thanks," says the tank, who's still in front of me and has turned to face us.

"You can thank him yourself. He will understand you," Ronan says.

She looks startled, then nods, removing her helmet to bow slightly at the skeleton.

He bows back.

"Let's go then, Ronan," I say, taking him up on his offer.

"You're not leaving until you hand over those worm-egg sacs and beg forgiveness on your knees!" the idiot shouts, who's already feeling better after taking the life potion.

We ignore him. We're leaving.

I'm eager for Ronan to give them the order to fight freely, just avoiding killing them.

"Stop them, Erika!" Octavius orders as I turn.

As if his taunt could do anything to us...

"No. I'm done. I'm sick of you and your orders. These first-years did nothing wrong, and his skeleton suffered your flames to save me."

"You can't leave! You're my twin. You have to obey me."

"Like hell I do."

"I'll kick you off my team for the Games!"

Ooh, serious threat.

"Fine. You'll bring our house enough honor without me," she says with such finality I sense deeper history here.

I realize I've stopped walking, eavesdropping like some nosy neighbor. Okay. I resume my march. Ronan advances beside me. The mage lunges at us, furious, while beginning to cast a spell.

Now I do turn around, ready to defend myself.

But there's no need—Bob grabs him by the wrist holding the staff, the one he extended toward us, twists it, and throws him to the ground, where he immobilizes him in a hold.

Tom has planted himself with his shield in front of Melly, who must have tried to help him.

Smirking, I continue my way to the troll village. By the way, the undead wolves have surrounded us, but I think those third-year students haven't even noticed. Understandable—they're focused on us, and the wolves are experts at hiding behind the snowy tree trunks.

I think Bob releases him and lets him go, since the others make no move to attack and help their leader. Well, those who remain, because the tank girl left.

"Heal me, Ashen! It hurts!"

"I've used all three charges," he replies.

"You idiot! You wasted heals on my sister and yourself instead of saving any for your leader?"

"Ashen, let's go," says another male voice, probably the other swordsman.

Melly starts shrieking at both of them as she rushes to support her leader.

Well, I stop listening to them when we're far enough away.

From what Ronan tells me, the healer and the swordsman leave. When only Octavius and Melly remain, and the trolls move to attack—plus the ambushing wolves revealing themselves—both lose all their pride and swagger and run away.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Damn, I wish I'd seen that!

I would have even brought out the popcorn...

Although then maybe the two idiots would've felt compelled to keep up appearances and fight until they ended up badly injured or unconscious.

Yes, better this way.

We finish checking the village for anything to loot; Ronan doesn't raise any more trolls—apparently, he has little mana left and prefers to save it. While we wait for Bob, Tom, and Joe to arrive with the other minions, the zombie trolls that remain here scavenge what they can from the other corpses. I don't look, but apparently Ronan wants a phalanx from the pinky finger of each one, to be able to raise them in the future.

"Does your drain spell recover mana?" I ask, testing whether approaching another village and luring one of the perimeter trolls might allow him to drain it and replenish himself.

"I believe so, my lady. It recovers exactly what I expend, making it functionally equivalent to draining life at zero mana cost—but I gain no additional mana points," he explains carefully. "To be precise, what I possess and have been utilizing is a suction spell that evolved into drain. This evolved version is area-of-effect, permitting me to select which targets within a zone I wish to drain life from. However, it becomes prohibitively expensive when applied to multiple targets. Its primary advantage over suction is eliminating the need for physical contact. That said, I strongly doubt the area version drains mana. Suction only acquired that additional benefit after leveling up its mastery level. I shall need to verify this at the academy."

Of course. Sometimes I forget they can't simply open a system interface to check statuses like I do.

"Oh, I see. Well, it's still an improvement over having no mana recovery at all. Perhaps when you level it up again and it evolves further..."

"Perhaps."

We both understand the reality: spell progression becomes exponentially more difficult with each tier. I don't foresee Ronan achieving another evolution anytime soon.

"That leaves us with two options: camp here overnight or return to the academy," I summarize.

Ronan remains silent for several seconds before responding.

"Practically speaking, my lady, we have depleted our supply of empty pouches for egg transport. Given their refusal to issue more than fifty, I fear that attempting to claim rewards by carrying loose eggs in my pack would prove unsuccessful."

"True enough."

"If your priority remains leveling both yourself and the seed of darkness, we could establish camp here. In fact, it is mealtime. However, you should recall that I require sleep for mana regeneration since I do not know how to meditate. It might be faster and more efficient to eat something and head back to the academy. Even if the dungeon regenerates, we can get up early tomorrow and come back with more pouches. In fact, with the points we earn, I'll be able to buy mana potions at the shop."

"You've exhausted your entire supply, haven't you?"

"Unfortunately, my lady. Though your army has grown." He gestures toward his undead forces. "With your authorization, I will instruct our newest recruits to proceed on foot to the goblin settlement."

"What?" The word escapes me before I can restrain my disbelief.

"I shall command them to march. They will arrive eventually. I cannot accommodate so many friends in my room; there simply is not enough space."

"No, Ronan, that's not the concern."

How to explain this properly?

Exhaling sharply, I remove my backpack. We might as well take lunch while discussing this.

"Consider this," I continue after settling onto the ground and sharing my provisions with the insatiable pup, "the problem is that if we take them out of the dungeon and they go walking toward our goblin cave, besides the fact that I believe it's hundreds of kilometers away, it's very likely that some human patrols will discover them. That would generate a big commotion, even fear in nearby villages, and the army would go to kill them."

I take a bite of cheese while I watch Ronan process my words, thoughtful.

"Is this specifically because they are undead?" he finally inquires. "Were they living human servants or pets, no such extermination would occur?"

"It's because the undead are dungeon creatures."

"Yet necromancers can raise them without having to go to a dungeon. Are there really no laws that protect the property of nobles with high affinity for darkness?"

My mouth opens, then closes. He's absolutely correct. This society operates on medieval magical principles. It doesn't make sense that they could kill a noble's servants like that. Besides, the soldiers would already be trained to distinguish if a group of undead are feral or following their necromancer's orders like going from point A to B without attacking anyone.

"My lady?"

"You're completely right, Ronan. I may be projecting unreasonable assumptions. Perhaps they wouldn't do anything to them. Or they wouldn't if they could identify that they're servants of your parents' barony."

His features illuminate with that rare, almost childlike fascination he displays when he finds unexpected knowledge, especially one that excites or moves him.

"Then, if we make them uniforms, could they?"

"I imagine so. But I'm not a tailor, I don't have any tailoring skills, we don't have the right materials, and as far as I know, we don't have any magic that can make uniforms, right?"

"When I summon a skeleton, it appears equipped, though not in any kind of uniform. This could be useful to us at another time."

"Our first step should be consulting the headmaster. Or alternatively, your father."

My friend's face changes completely. It becomes expressionless, but to me, who's getting to know him, I get the feeling that he just indulged in unpleasant images, in negative feelings that I don't like him to have.

"It would be better to establish your own noble household first, my lady, and have them wear your coat of arms on their uniform."

"I think for that I would first have to be chosen for the third-year games and win them. Or marry the prince, who since he's not the crown prince, would likely be granted territorial holdings and an appropriate title by his parents."

The truth is that I'm just saying it, not ironically but as the only possibilities that occur to me for the unlikely case that I have my own noble house. However, Ronan responds with grave solemnity: "Understood."

What exactly has he understood?

I shake my head and continue eating. I'm not going to overthink it. After all, the worst he can do is try to marry me off to Vincent, and after what I told him this morning, before leaving for the dungeon, it's not like I would disapprove.

The pup whines for more food. I give him a bit more of the meat I brought for him, and I'd swear the little one's eyes gleam with some scheme I haven't quite figured out yet. But let's be serious, what is Ronan going to do? Create my own kingdom of goblins and undead? Ridiculous. We can't take lands from any human kingdom even if we want to because if someone tries to go to war, the gods act and punish.

"So, my lady, shall we guide them through the portals and, once at the academy, proceed to the portal leading to the human village near the goblin settlement?"

"I guess we don't lose anything by trying."

Because they're the minions of a noble's son, a student of the academy. It has to be legal to transport them through portals, I tell myself.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.