The slightly yellowed parchment glowed softly in the sunlight. Roland narrowed his eyes and made out the words "breathing method" written across it.

So this is... the legendary Knight breathing method?

Thinking of the transcendent power Beckham and Gundar had displayed, Roland's breathing quickened despite himself.

Once he cultivated this breathing method, he could step into the realm of Professionals and gain power beyond ordinary people.

But...

His gaze left the scroll and settled on Graham's rugged face.

This transcendent secret art, enough to change an ordinary person's fate, was treated by the man like an everyday object.

The scroll had been tossed onto the desk without care. Dust had gathered along its edges, and several clear creases marked the parchment. It had plainly never been preserved with any particular attention.

"Ha!"

Noticing the heat in Roland's gaze, Graham gave a scoff.

"Boy who hasn't seen the world, this thing isn't as precious as you think... Wait!"

He seemed to remember something, and the contempt on his face shifted into amusement.

"I heard from that fellow Finn... you're from the Golden Valley Kingdom? Then no wonder."

Thinking of the neighboring kingdom's special situation, the burly man clicked his tongue.

"In any case... like I said just now..."

Graham pushed forward the parchment containing the commission's details.

"As long as you accept this commission, this Knight breathing method is yours to take right now."

Roland took a deep breath, steadied the emotions surging in his chest, and nodded solemnly.

"I understand, Lord Graham. However... may I first learn the specific details of the commission?"

"Look all you want."

"Thank you."

Roland carefully picked up the commission and examined it in detail.

After a moment, his brows drew together.

The commission seemed simple.

Subjugate the Wolf King occupying the Misty Lands.

Yet the more Roland read, the stranger it became.

Unlike other detailed tasks, this parchment contained almost no definite information beyond the target's name.

Everything about the Wolf King was shrouded in fog.

[Identity: Unknown.]

[Strength: Unknown.]

[Scale of subordinate forces: Unknown.]

[Strength of followers: Unknown.]

Even the Wolf King's exact hiding place was unclear. Only a rough position had been marked in the central region of the Misty Lands, and even that mark looked sloppy.

It felt like the person who had drawn the map had only heard rumors and had never truly entered that unknown territory.

"Well?"

Graham looked at Roland's grave expression and casually pulled an iron flask from the cabinet.

The stopper came free with a soft pop, and a rich wine fragrance filled the room.

Roland only caught a faint breath of it and already felt light-headed.

Graham paid no mind. He tipped his head back and took a large gulp.

His Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. He wiped the wine from his beard and said roughly, "If you think this commission is too difficult, then go back and pack your luggage. Once the academy officially starts, study your coursework honestly. Understand?"

"Hmm..."

Roland nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes never left the parchment in his hands.

Among the scattered information, he caught the key clue.

[After the Wolf King occupied the Misty Lands, he not only blocked trade routes and plundered passing merchant caravans, but also publicly declared that he would establish his own country there...]

Blocking trade routes... establishing a country...

Roland turned those two phrases over in his mind, and his eyes sharpened.

On the journey to the River Kingdoms, he had been collecting all kinds of information about this country.

Even in the cabin of the Black Shell Trading Company's ship, he had often chatted with fellow passengers and quietly gathered intelligence.

Just as he had previously analyzed, the River Kingdoms were nominally governed jointly by merchants and nobles, but in secret, the two major forces had always fought both openly and covertly, each wanting control over the country's dominant power.

Their goals, however, were completely different.

The merchant faction cared more about the River Kingdoms' abundant products and excellent geography, dedicating itself to accumulating wealth through trade.

The noble faction cared more about territorial integrity and ruling authority.

Despite constant internal conflict, the two factions could always unite quickly when facing an external enemy.

It was precisely this delicate balance that allowed the River Kingdoms to survive between neighboring great powers and even grow more prosperous by the day.

Yet this mysterious figure calling himself the Wolf King had stepped on the most sensitive nerves of both factions at once.

To the merchant faction, openly plundering caravans and cutting off trade routes was no different from striking at the River Kingdoms' economic lifeline.

And although the Misty Lands lay in a remote region of lowlands and swamps, they still belonged to the River Kingdoms.

Publicly declaring an independent regime was trampling directly on the noble faction's bottom line.

By ordinary logic, neither the merchants nor the nobles should tolerate the Wolf King running rampant within the River Kingdoms' territory.

Then...

Roland's gaze returned to Graham, who was drinking heavily before him, and questions rose in his heart.

Why would Graham give this commission to me?

Has the danger level of the Misty Lands already exceeded the ability of the River Kingdoms' two major forces to handle?

But even so, with this powerful man's strength, wiping out the Wolf King should be as easy as turning his hand...

Although Roland had never seen Graham fight at full strength, the might contained in that casual strike was enough for him to judge that this rough-looking giant was no weaker than any Transcendent Professional Knight he had encountered.

Unless... this powerful man simply refuses to be ordered around by the River Kingdoms' two factions.

Thinking back to Graham's attitude toward Nielsen and Finn, Roland began to understand.

He weighed his words before speaking.

"My apologies, Lord Graham... I do not want to give up this commission. However, I need some time to investigate the relevant information. Also..."

He closed the parchment scroll and placed it back on the desk.

"Regarding the specific requirements for subjugating the Wolf King..."

Before he could finish, Graham raised three thick fingers.

"Three months."

His heavy voice echoed through the room.

"Within three months, no matter what method you use, as long as you make that damned Wolf King disappear from the River Kingdoms, the task counts as complete."

Roland caught the deeper meaning in those words and raised his brows slightly.

"Any method? In other words... even if I do not kill him personally, it still counts as success?"

Noticing the irritation in Graham's eyes when he mentioned the Wolf King, Roland became even more certain of his judgment.

This principal of the Knight Academy had clearly been harassed to the limit by the merchants and nobles.

"I understand, Lord Graham."

Roland bowed.

"After I finish collecting the necessary intelligence, I will formally accept this commission."

Seeing that Roland did not retreat, Graham frowned slightly. Surprise flickered in his eyes.

"Hmph. Reckless brat."

He waved a hand, indicating that the conversation was over.

After Roland left, Graham tipped his head back and finished the wine remaining in the flask, muttering to himself.

"That boy was recommended by Colin... Since he's willing to take on this mess... that old thing Derek should understand my position, right?"

"Tch!"

Irritation crossed Graham's rugged face. Thinking of the increasingly intense internal struggle within the River Kingdoms, he smacked his lips and finally released a helpless sigh.

Three months...

Roland walked through the deep academy corridor, his fingertips rubbing his chin.

The sunset passed through stained glass, casting mottled light and shadow across his thoughtful face.

Judging from the commission, the Misty Lands are not far from the Royal Capital of the River Kingdoms.

If the merchants and nobles joined forces, perhaps they wouldn't even need three months to eliminate the Wolf King...

Recalling the rumors about the Misty Lands he had gathered during this period, Roland's brows tightened.

He still could not determine whether the strange fog covering that region originated from an abnormality in Mana Elements, but even a harsh environment should not pose much threat to true Transcendent Professionals.

And since the merchant faction has Shadow Veil, an organization made up of Transcendent Professionals, there is no reason the noble faction would lack Transcendent Professionals of its own.

Even if those people are not as strong as a powerhouse like Graham, with a numerical advantage, even an exceptionally strong Wolf King probably could not resist...

Understanding dawned in Roland's eyes.

The two factions are holding back their forces and pushing the problem onto Graham. Perhaps they want to preserve their strength, or perhaps... this is some political game I still don't understand.

But with so little information, he could only make a preliminary judgment.

By the time Roland stepped out of the academy gate, he had already made his decision.

In the twilight, he boarded the ferry that had been waiting for some time. Glittering waves reflected his pensive face.

As long as I figure out the two factions' true intentions, this commission can be completed far more easily.

Amid the sound of oars cutting through water, he looked toward the distant lights beginning to glow.

Avril may be able to inquire about the merchant faction's thoughts. As for the noble faction...

While he considered this, the small boat sailed toward the residence Colin had arranged for him.

While Roland and Graham were speaking in the council hall, a conversation full of undercurrents was unfolding inside Roland's residence.

Avril leaned lazily by the window, her brown hair gleaming in the sunlight.

Her fingertips played with a dagger that shone coldly. The lively smile she usually wore had vanished, replaced by chilling indifference.

As the sharp blade turned with her wrist, it reflected dazzling flashes of light, brushing intentionally or otherwise past the poet's slender neck.

"Galvez..."

Her voice was colder than the blade.

"Are you here to arrest me?"

The bard continued wiping the harp in his arms, treating the threat beside his throat like it did not exist.

"Of course not, Lady Avril."

His long fingers brushed the strings, drawing out a series of clear notes.

"You know, I am merely a Half-Elf... I have no right to interfere in the affairs of you High Elves."

"Half-Elf?"

Avril narrowed her eyes and flicked her wrist.

Cold light cut through the room.

With a dull thunk, the dagger sank deep into the oak tabletop.

The blade trembled, giving off a harsh metallic hum.

"A Half-Elf would not be accepted as an apprentice by Master Vesna, much less receive the favor of Sune, Goddess of Love!"

Her voice seemed laced with ice.

Galvez acted like he had heard nothing. He calmly picked up some animal grease from the side and began carefully maintaining the harp strings.

Sunlight passed through the window lattice, drawing a boundary of light and shadow between them.

The room fell into dead silence. Only the lingering harp notes trembled faintly in the air.

When the last string had been wiped clean, Galvez exaggeratedly brushed away sweat that did not exist. Only then did he turn to meet Avril's sharp gaze.

"But as you can see..."

The poet lightly touched his ears. They sat between Elf and Human, the pointed outline ending in a rounded curve.

"This cannot be faked."

He placed the harp on velvet cloth with careful hands, gentle enough that he might have been setting down an infant.

"As for why I came here, it was pure coincidence."

"Teacher Vesna assigned me a task. She said that only after I completed it could I truly become a bard. In fact..."

Seeing that Avril's eyes remained cold, Galvez smiled bitterly and raised both hands.

His linen sleeves slid down, revealing arms so slender they looked almost fragile.

"I had already set out on my journey before you left Ever Song Forest. As for your matter, I only learned of it from a fellow clansman I happened to meet on the road."

He deliberately shook those harmless-looking arms, his voice carrying helpless sincerity.

"And with my meager ability, what threat could I possibly pose to you?"

Avril's brows drew together. Then, without a word, she took a step forward and gripped the dagger hilt.

"Clang!"

She pulled the blade from the table.

"In that case, leave this place before tomorrow."

Her cold voice allowed no refusal.

"I don't want to see that nauseating face of yours again."

"Hey! That's unfair!"

Sensing that her killing intent had eased a little, Galvez secretly let out a breath and protested in a deliberately light tone.

"As a bard, I have the right to..."

Cold light flashed.

A lock of brown hair drifted down.

Feeling the sudden coolness on top of his head, Galvez's Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, and the second half of his sentence came out trembling.

"...choose where I go..."

Avril had already withdrawn the dagger. Now she was casually rubbing the blade's edge with her fingertip, like that stunning flash of knife light had nothing to do with her.

"Indeed, my current identity gives me no right to order you."

She raised her eyes. Frost seemed to gather in her pupils.

"But I can end your life in the next second. You should know very well that I have that ability."

"I-I think..."

The poet wisely changed the subject. His voice was slightly dry from nerves, and he returned to respectful language.

"What you should really be worried about is not me. Before you arrived at the port, I personally saw someone from the Morningstar family walk out of the Black Shell Trading Company's cabin..."

"Morningstar?"

Avril's pupils contracted.

That surname was like a dull knife scraping across her nerves.

"What are they here for?"

"That..."

Galvez retreated without a sound. Only when his back touched the cold stone wall did he steady his trembling voice.

"I don't know the specific reason..."

"But that lady only brought two attendants, so she probably did not come for you."

Seeing Avril's killing intent lessen, the poet seized the chance to suggest, "With my identity, perhaps I can help you inquire about the other party's intentions. Of course..."

After successfully shifting Avril's attention away from himself, the bard continued.

"The premise is that you can trust me."

Perhaps because the proposal had some merit, the atmosphere in the room eased.

After a moment, Avril finally returned the sharp dagger to its sheath.

"You should know the consequences of deceiving me, correct?"

"Of course! Of course!"

Galvez looked like a man granted a pardon. The smile he forced out was uglier than crying.

"How would I dare deceive the Valkyrie of the Silver Moon Guard?"

The words Silver Moon Guard made Avril's eyes freeze.

"Captain Mela... is she well?"

"Not good..."

Galvez observed Avril's darkening expression.

"After your dealings with the Drow Elves were exposed, the council sentenced her to fifty years of confinement..."

"Crack!"

The corner of the table split beneath Avril's palm, and the killing intent that surged up became almost tangible, pressing against the poet's breathing.

Just as he was nearly suffocating...

With a creak, the heavy wooden door opened.

A sturdy silhouette stood against the light.