Over the past year training at the Red Magic Tower, Erica had come a long way—through endless experiments, failures, and new discoveries.
Day after day, she summoned Ignis repeatedly using mid-tier mana stones. But there was one major obstacle in her training: the cost of those stones.
A single mid-tier stone could range from five to twenty silver coins.
Five silver coins alone could buy a healthy sheep—or feed a small farming family with two children for several weeks.
No wonder Erica always felt like she was burning money every time she held a stone in her hand.
Mana stone prices were influenced by purity. The brighter the stone glowed, the higher the quality—and the cost.
Common stones were colorless, like clear crystal. But some had elemental hues—red for fire, blue for water, green for wind, and brown for earth.
Rarer ones appeared in silvery blue for ice, or golden blue for lightning. Even just seeing one could leave a magic merchant speechless in awe.
As a Summoner, Erica belonged to one of the strongest combat classes.
But with great power came great… expenses.
There might be no class in the magic world more expensive than hers.
____
"Huhuhu… crap, I'm broke…"
Erica whimpered, resting her head on the cafeteria table. Her eyes were empty, staring at the edge of a tray that only had dry bread crumbs left.
"Huh? What's wrong, Erichin?"
A cheerful voice called out.
A girl with short chestnut-red bobbed hair sat across from her. A red ribbon adorned with little ornaments decorated her head, emphasizing her sweet and energetic charm.
While not as pretty as Erica, her figure was enviably balanced—especially her slender waist, highlighted even through her white dress and long brown robe.
"…Financial problems," Erica muttered weakly, as if her soul was leaving her body.
"Hmph, commoner life is always full of hardship."
A smug voice interrupted them.
A boy with neatly parted blue hair, wearing an expensive robe embroidered with gold thread, appeared beside their table.
His arrogant expression screamed nobility.
Without asking, he sat next to the ribboned girl.
"If you're truly out of money," he added with a thin smile, "I could lend you some… with a small interest, of course—out of politeness."
"Ugh… no thanks…"
Erica replied flatly, still staring at her tray in despair.
"Clay, stop acting like that or I'll steal your chicken!"
The ribboned girl Haluti—glared at him, then boldly grabbed a chunk of meat from Clay's tray and popped it into her mouth with a victorious grin.
"Hey! Haluti! Give it back! That's my lunch!!"
Clay panicked, reaching out in vain.
"Nope~ You were rude to my friend. This is justice," she said proudly, chewing slowly.
"Hmph!" Clay just crossed his arms and looked away—as if he didn't care.
Even though his eyes were fixed on the stolen meat.
Ugh…
Erica groaned inwardly, covering her face.
Watching the two bicker made her queasy—not from jealousy, but from one burning
thought:
Why did I end up with these two weirdos as my friends…?
She glanced between Clay and Haluti, then sighed.
She remembered when she first met them.
From the moment she saw Clay, she knew it—
He was a tsundere.
In Otome games, characters like him were cute from the protagonist's perspective.
But in real life?
Cringe, Erica thought.
Utterly cringe.
____
"Anyway, Erichin, if you're short on money, we could take a quest from the adventurer guild! Might be enough to get you some mana stones," Haluti suggested cheerfully.
Erica turned to her.
"Haluti… how much gold can you save in a month?"
"Hmm? Maybe… one or two?" she answered, a little unsure.
Erica leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
"There's only a year left before the academy entrance exam…
And I'm flat broke…"
"Ah…"
Haluti fell silent, her mood suddenly somber.
Erica had already set her goal.
When she turned eighteen, she would apply to the Tharsaros Royal Academy—the most prestigious magic academy on the continent.
In the year 500 of the Tharsaros Kingdom calendar—
The same year the Doki Doki Love Fantasy story would begin.
That year, the protagonist would enroll in the academy, alongside all the potential love interests who played key roles in the narrative.
As someone who knew the tragic endings of each route, Erica had one goal—
Enter that academy
And try to save the characters from their doomed fates.
But of course, she couldn't tell anyone she had reincarnated.
When Erica mentioned her plan to enter the academy at age eighteen, both Clay and Haluti had immediately decided they would do the same.
They were all the same age, after all.
____
But now there was a major problem.
To apply, they needed a 50 gold coin entrance fee.
And if accepted, each semester cost another 50 gold.
With her current situation, Erica knew there was no way she could save that much in one year.
"Why not just ask Pyra for help?" Clay asked, resting his chin on his hand.
"She's broke too… thanks to me. She spent it all helping with my training," Erica muttered, biting into a rock-hard piece of dry bread.
Her voice was tired—and filled with guilt.
"Hm…" Haluti closed her eyes, thinking hard.
"I heard there's a newly discovered ruin in the southeastern region."
"Ruin?" Clay perked up, eyes sparkling.
"You serious?"
"Yeah. I heard the Southern Duke is hiring adventurers and priests to explore the place. We can register officially with the Guild and get paid. If we're lucky, we might even find a rare artifact or high-quality mana stones."
Suddenly—
Clatter!
Erica stood up so fast her chair screeched across the floor.
Her eyes blazed with renewed fire.
"Then… I need to talk to Pyra right now!"
Without waiting for a reply, she dashed out of the cafeteria, still clutching her uneaten bread.
Haluti and Clay looked at each other—then laughed softly.
When she's like this…
It means a big adventure is just around the corner, Haluti murmured with a smile.
Meanwhile, far in the southeast—where Erica and her friends would soon head—
The first light of dawn painted the sky in pale orange.
Tents of the Southern Duke's forces stood in neat rows on the edge of a snowy forest—an area long plagued by monsters.
The Duke's banner waved proudly atop high poles:
a dove clutching a scroll in its beak—a symbol of diplomacy and peace.
The message was clear:
Words can be sharper than swords.
And peace begins with understanding.
The Duke's forces weren't alone.
Adventurers and mercenaries from all over had gathered for the expedition to the mysterious ruin.
Some were still asleep.
Others prepared their gear or reviewed plans.
Among them, a lone youth walked quietly through the darkened woods.
His dark green hair was tied back.
His sharp eyes pierced the lingering fog of morning.
Twin blades crossed behind his back—
the mark of a dual-blade Fighter, an advanced Warrior class known for speed and precision.
His every step radiated focus.
Poised for sudden violence—yet completely still.
_____
As the morning light crept through the trees, his steps halted.
Before him stretched a patch of land… different from the forest around it.
Snow still blanketed the ground here—untouched, unmelted.
At its center stood an old oak tree, tall and solemn.
Beneath the tree, a Knight knelt on one knee, head bowed in silent prayer.
His sword was planted in the earth, one hand gripping the hilt—as if clinging to his last hope in a cruel world.
The young fighter took a step closer—
But—
"Stop! Don't disturb him."
A voice interrupted.
A young boy, no older than thirteen, stepped out from the brush.
He wore a priest's robe, his face calm and serene.
"Hm?" the young man turned.
"What's he doing?" he asked, gesturing to the Knight beneath the tree.
"He's… praying."
The boy's simple answer stunned the young fighter.
He looked again.
No footprints.
No disturbance in the snow.
Silence.
Purity.
Sanctity.
It meant the Knight had knelt there all night—unmoving, unshaken.
Dawn light shone upon the Knight.
Golden rays bathed his figure, creating a majestic silhouette in the snow.
In that moment, it felt as if the Goddess Letticia herself heard his prayers—granting him warmth in the cold and strength in the silence.
Shhh…
Snow atop the Knight's armor began to fall as he rose.
Not a single tremble in his body, despite kneeling in the snow all night.
As if the goddess had truly shielded him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Soft steps approached.
The boy walked closer with a cheerful face.
"Sir Alvarez, are you finished with your prayers?" he asked with innocent admiration.
"Good morning, Priest Frey," the Knight replied calmly.
"As you can see—yes."
"Hehe, don't call me Priest! I haven't been officially baptized by the High Priest yet…" Frey scratched his cheek, smiling bashfully.
Alvarez turned his gaze toward the young man with green hair.
"By the way… who's that?"
The young man stepped forward.
He didn't bow.
He didn't flinch.
With a calm, unwavering voice, he introduced himself:
"My name is Ragnar Stellhart."
Their eyes met.
Two worlds.
Two fates.
One, a Knight who lived by honor—renowned as the strongest adventurer, a sword that always protected.
The other, a young man raised wild and free—destined to be known as the Mercenary King.
And this meeting…
Would change the course of fate itself.
____