Long ago, the entire continent was swallowed by suffocating darkness. It was not a civil war among humans, but a massive invasion led by the Demon King. Every empire was forced to unite, exhausting every resource they possessed simply to survive.

  When humanity stood on the brink of despair, a young man emerged. He was like a lone star shining brightest in the silent night sky. Soon, other stars followed, appearing one by one, turning the pitch-black heavens into a spectacle filled with hope.

  He was the Hero, along with his comrades.

  That group was not composed of nobles alone; various races and backgrounds gathered under the same banner.

  Among them was a Legendary Adventurer—a figure who always stood at the very front lines, cutting down obstacles to clear the path for the Hero. He was the one who compiled the great monster encyclopedias that, to this day, serve as sacred guides for adventurers across the continent.

  The tale of that legendary journey was passed down from generation to generation, planting seeds of dreams in children’s hearts.

  For Darius, it became his compass in life.

  He dreamed of becoming a great adventurer who would stand proudly on the front lines. Even though his body could not sense the flow of mana and he failed to become an aura user, Darius kept walking forward, chasing the shadow of that Legendary Adventurer.

  But today, he felt that dream shatter into pieces.

  After acknowledging Alex Lucien’s superiority in the arena, Darius walked away from the tournament’s uproar with heavy steps. The sun refused to show itself; thick clouds blanketed the sky, and snow began to fall slowly—as if the heavens themselves mourned his defeat.

  Darius sat on a long wooden bench in a quiet corner, trying to calm himself and piece together what remained of his plans.

  “Should I stop being an adventurer?” he muttered flatly, staring at the gray sky.

  After years of stagnation as a Rank C adventurer, this sword tournament had been his only hope. He wanted to meet the Duke, kneel before him, and beg for aura training—even if it was only a low-level technique. To him, it was the sole way to break the wall blocking his path.

  And now, all of it had vanished in a single defeat.

  “Maybe I should just return to my village and become a farmer,” Darius murmured bitterly.

  Amid the falling snow, steady and authoritative footsteps echoed.

  “Well, look at this… a grown man looking shattered after losing to a novice knight from our family,” a young man said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  Darius turned.

  Before him stood a strikingly handsome youth—almost too beautiful for a man—yet the crimson pupils in his eyes were deep, as if they could pierce through the layers of one’s soul.

  Behind him followed a brown-haired girl, hugging a white puppy as though it were a precious doll. Seeing the wolf emblem pinned to the young man’s cloak, Darius stiffened—it was the same emblem Alex Lucien bore.

  “Greetings, Young Master,” Darius immediately bowed his head. He was well accustomed to noble arrogance.

  As a poor adventurer often treated like a lowly hired hand, Darius had endured more than enough contemptuous stares. To him, nobles were beings who saw people like him as little more than dirt scraping by on a few silver coins.

  “You look utterly pathetic,” Rey said bluntly.

  Darius fell silent, lowering his head further. “How may I assist you, Young Master?”

  “What is your Stigma?” Rey asked abruptly.

  “I only possess a common Stigma… Strength,” he replied softly.

  “Figures. For a lower-class adventurer, that’s about as basic as it gets,” Rey commented. “Now tell me… do you still have a dream?”

  Darius flinched.

  The question struck straight through his heart. He was merely a farmer’s son who once wanted the world to acknowledge him through heroic tales. But the harsh reality—that he could not sense mana—had trapped him at Rank C. Becoming a knight was impossible for someone of his “tainted” social standing.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Someone as low as me… doesn’t dare to dream big anymore, Young Master,” Darius swallowed. “I used to want to be a recognized adventurer. Like the Legendary Adventurer.”

  “Oh? The author of the monster encyclopedias?” Rey murmured nostalgically. “Yeah, he was an incredible man. His notes helped me a lot when I was figuring out dungeon boss weaknesses.”

  Darius frowned, not understanding what Rey meant by “dungeon boss.”

  “Forget what I said,” Rey waved dismissively. “So? Are you really going to give up now?”

  “Yes,” Darius answered hopelessly. “Someone like me doesn’t deserve to dream.”

  “Rubbish!” Rey snapped sharply. “Anyone is free to dream. The issue isn’t whether you deserve it—it’s whether you have the resolve to endure until you reach it!”

  Darius stared, stunned, lifting his face to meet Rey’s eyes blazing with conviction.

  “Failing over and over doesn’t mean you’ll never arrive. Even if you have no talent for magic, all you need to do is persist and find another path.” Rey leaned forward slightly. “So it’s simple. Will you remain a loser who surrenders… or will you endure—and let me open the way for you?”

  Darius froze.

  The hope that had nearly died flickered back to life.

  Rey extended a hand clad in silk gloves.

  “Come with me. Not merely as an adventurer—I will make you a knight of honor.”

  Without hesitation, Darius dropped to his knees in the snow before Rey. This was an honor he could never reject in his lifetime.

  “Very well. I’ll take that as your acceptance,” Rey said, picking up a fallen tree branch from the snow. “Since I didn’t bring a ceremonial sword, let this branch serve as your blade of honor. The official ceremony will follow once you pass my trial.”

  Rey placed the branch solemnly upon Darius’ shoulder.

  “By this act, I, Rey Lucien—heir apparent of House Marquess Lucien—grant you the title of Knight Candidate of Lucien Territory. Do you swear your loyalty?”

  “With my body and soul, I accept! I shall serve House Lucien for the rest of my life!” Darius declared, his voice trembling in the cold air.

  And so, beneath the overcast sky shedding snow, a knight’s oath was spoken.

  A new legend was born—not as a lowly adventurer, but as the strongest shield of House Lucien.

  —*

  On the outskirts of the Duke’s territory stood a shabby blacksmith workshop filled with strange equipment. There lived a Dwarf named Hans.

  He had left the western dwarf mountains for a simple reason: he was fed up.

  Fed up with the old-fashioned village elders obsessed with forging a single ultimate sword to rival the Hero’s blade. To Hans, on a vast battlefield, one sword—no matter how powerful—would never be enough to change the tide of war. He needed something more. Something beyond mere steel and armor.

  Thus, Hans chose to become both an adventurer and an artifact researcher. He resembled a tower mage more than a traditional blacksmith. To him, creating artifacts was far more useful than forging a sword that would merely become decoration in an idiot’s hands.

  As Hans tinkered with a prototype artifact—

  Bang!

  The workshop door burst open. A silver-white-haired noble youth stood in the doorway.

  “Excuse us. We’re conducting an investigation into illegal residents here,” the young man said coldly. “Ah, there he is… Seize that Dwarf!”

  Rey Lucien pointed directly at Hans.

  “W-What?! What nonsense is this?!” Hans panicked instantly. Though he knew he was technically an illegal resident who moved frequently, he feared even more that his experimental artifacts would be deemed dangerous and land him in the Duke’s dungeon.

  “Hey, stop! I paid my taxes this month! If you’re forcing me to forge weapons, fine, I’ll help! Just don’t throw me in prison!” Hans pleaded, sweat beading on his forehead.

  “Hahaha, I’m joking,” the young man suddenly laughed.

  He stepped inside, followed by a broad-shouldered brown-haired knight with a greatsword strapped to his back—Darius—and a girl who was still chewing chicken skewers while hugging a white puppy. A truly bizarre combination.

  “You should stop scaring people,” Len scolded.

  “See, Len? With a big guy like Darius here, don’t we look like street thugs extorting a merchant?” Rey replied casually.

  “Ahem, apologies for disturbing you,” Rey said, suddenly serious as he placed a bottle of expensive wine on the cluttered workbench.

  Seeing the label, Hans swallowed hard. He accepted the bottle carefully, as if handling treasure.

  “So… Young Master, what kind of job requires such theatrics?”

  “Have you ever heard of something called Science? Or Technology?”

  Hans tilted his head, utterly confused. “Huh?”

  “Right. In this world, you probably know terms like Alchemist or Tower Scholar better. But I know you’re interested in artifacts that are… different, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Young Master. But what kind of artifact do you mean?”

  “Something rather complex. It’ll require an expert like you,” Rey stroked his chin. “Have you ever imagined an artifact that functions without needing the user’s mana flow?”

  “Impossible, Young Master. It’s common knowledge that mana is the primary trigger. Unless you use mana stones as automatic fuel—but even then, it’s still mana-based.”

  “Yup, you’re right. Since my Plan A has about a fifty percent chance of failure, I need to prepare Plans B through Z,” Rey muttered, confusing Hans further.

  “Forget that. Mana may be this world’s main energy source. But have you ever considered the possibility of another source of energy besides mana?”

  Hans fell silent.

  If a new energy source were discovered, it would be the greatest breakthrough in the continent’s history. Even Darius and Len stood quietly, trying to grasp the overly advanced concept.

  “I… don’t think that’s possible,” Hans answered after a moment.

  “Of course it isn’t—for now. And I don’t intend to create it yet,” Rey replied lightly. “I just need your help to realize this.”

  Rey reached into his storage artifact and pulled out a large dark-blue scroll—a blueprint.

  Within it lay an incredibly complex mechanical structure, neatly arranged with mathematically precise scales and angles.

  As a Dwarf blessed with the Crafting Stigma, Hans instantly understood how valuable the sheet before him was. His heart pounded as he saw technical details never recorded in the history of dwarf forging.

  “This… where did you obtain knowledge this profound?” Hans whispered, eyes wide with awe.