The building looked quiet from the outside, almost abandoned. Even so, she tried the door.

  It swung open without resistance, the soft creak of its hinges breaking the silence inside. The hall was a simple structure, its wide, open space feeling oddly still. A clerk was the only person visible, casually looking through papers behind the counter. The Herald’s Hall seemed to be little more than the town’s local newspaper commission.

  She approached the counter, and as she did, the clerk finally looked up. His expression didn’t show surprise, only a vague hint of curiosity.

  “Good morning,” she said. “I was told I could find some news here.”

  The clerk raised an eyebrow, his voice low but not unkind. “Never seen you before. You a newcomer?”

  Veronica nodded, offering a small smile. “I just arrived in town. Thought I’d catch up on what’s been going on around here. I don’t really have any money, but I was wondering if you might have some older pieces of information?”

  The clerk studied her for a moment, then gave a slight nod, as if deciding she was harmless enough. Reaching under the counter, he pulled out a small bundle of newspapers, the edges slightly worn.

  “Here,” he said, handing her the stack. “A few local articles and updates. They’re not always the most... exciting, but they cover the basics. Paper’s about two weeks old. You can read it here, but you can’t take it with you. Three vix for an up-to-date one.”

  Veronica took the paper. The ink was slightly smudged in places, but it was readable, which was all that mattered.

  “Thank you,” she said. With a polite nod, she made her way to a nearby table with a bench seat.

  Settling down, she flipped through the papers, scanning the headlines. Most of it focused on the town’s local affairs: market updates, weather predictions, and minor accidents. There was plenty of information about the barony and the surrounding lands, but a few articles stood out. Mentions of unusual activity on the borders, an uptick in trade from House Ronswick, and rumors of increased military buildup.

  The details were vague, but they aligned with what she’d heard from Garrick earlier.

  She read on, absorbing the details.

  In recent weeks, several villagers had vanished along the eastern roads. No bodies, no clear signs of struggle. Just people who left one day and never returned. The article offered common explanations: animal attacks, or perhaps a wandering band of outlaws preying on isolated travelers. It warned against venturing out alone and urged caution to anyone traveling beyond the town’s borders.

  It reminded her of the mercenaries who had tried to capture her.

  Could they be involved?

  It seemed possible. If slavers were operating in the region, they could easily be responsible for some of these disappearances. But if that were the case, why was there no mention of their presence in Greystone? She had seen the slave cuffs with her own eyes—proof of what kind of people they were. Had they not been going to Greystone, she would have suspected them.

  With a complicated sigh, she folded the paper in her lap, fingers tapping idly against its cover. There was a pattern here, but she hadn’t quite put it together yet. Too many strange occurrences were piling up at once. Something about this town feels off, she thought. She still needed more information.

  Old Thom’s story lingered in her mind.

  The ruins. Maybe that was where she needed to go next. If cultists were truly there, performing some kind of suspicious ritual, she’d make sure to stop them. Any demons coming into the world needed to be vanquished mercilessly, and she wouldn’t spare the lives of anyone doing the summoning, either. Lesser demons weren’t much more of a problem than some monsters, but the higher-tier ones—those she couldn’t afford to let live.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble from her stomach. Veronica sighed. She needed to get some money for food.

  Veronica made her way north, following the dirt path that wound past the town square. Before long, she arrived at the barracks.

  She had expected something larger—a stone fortress or at least a sizable garrison—but what she found was a relatively small, sturdy building, more akin to a warehouse than a proper military base. Wooden beams reinforced its stone walls, and a simple iron sign hung above the entrance, marked with the town’s crest.

  I guess it makes sense, she thought. Greystone isn’t exactly a city, so they wouldn’t have the manpower for a full military force. Just enough guards to keep order and defend against regular threats.

  She stepped inside.

  The interior was no more elaborate than the outside. A few weapon racks lined the walls, holding standard-issue swords and spears. A table in the center was cluttered with papers and reports, and at the far end of the room, a few guards sat on benches, removing pieces of armor and chatting in low voices, sweat still streaming down their faces.

  One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a trimmed beard and a stern expression, looked up as she entered. His dark eyes studied her, assessing rather than hostile. Unlike the others, he still wore his chain mail, the polished metal glinting faintly in the dim light.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  Veronica stepped forward, retrieving the parchment from her pocket and holding it up. “I’m here to see Captain Luthen. Hadrian Welton sent me.”

  At the mention of the steward’s name, the man’s brows furrowed slightly. He motioned toward the back. “Captain’s in his office. First door on the right.”

  “Thanks,” she said, tucking the parchment away.

  She moved past the guards, who barely spared her a glance, and knocked on the door before pushing it open.

  Inside, Captain Luthen sat at a desk, scrawling something onto a report. He was the man she saw in the morning. Late fifties, with sharp features and streaks of gray running through his dark hair. His uniform was simple but well-kept, and his posture, straight-backed and disciplined, spoke of a man who had spent his life in service.

  He didn’t look up right away. He finished his writing before setting down his quill. Only then did he glance up, his gaze unreadable.

  “New recruit?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied.

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Good. You look more like a scholar. Too skinny. You need to eat more.”

  I’m just here so I can get paid some money to afford food, you know. Though she didn’t say this out loud.

  Captain Luthen eyed her for a moment longer before giving a small nod, as though finally matching the clean-faced girl in front of him to the soot-covered, exhausted warrior from earlier.

  “Now that I look at you clearly… you’re the mage from earlier this morning, aren’t you?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Didn’t recognize me?” Veronica asked.

  He huffed. “You were covered head to toe in dirt. Looked like you’d been living in the forest for half a season. Now that you’ve washed up, you look like an entirely different person.”

  Veronica offered a polite nod. “Thank you for sending someone to help me. I appreciate it. My name is Veronica.”

  “Luthen. And it was the least we could do,” he said. “I had Tess escort you to the inn. Now—” His gaze sharpened. “What brings you here?”

  Veronica pulled the parchment from her pocket and placed it on his desk. “Hadrian sent me. Said your men needed something from me.”

  Luthen lifted an eyebrow but didn’t reach for the parchment immediately. “Ah. So he passed along my request.”

  “Only the part that you wanted to meet,” Veronica admitted. “He said you needed a mage to help your guards train?”

  At that, Luthen finally picked up the parchment and skimmed it. A slow exhale eluded him. “Of course, Hadrian would formalize this…”

  He set it down and fixed his attention back on her.

  “You took down that ogre with a single spell,” he said bluntly. “So you’re a combat mage, correct? What tier are you?”

  “Yes,” Veronica said. “I’m currently a first-tier mage. I follow the Path of Ruin. Destruction magic.”

  Luthen nodded knowingly. “Good. That’s what we need. The only other mage in Greystone isn’t useful for this sort of thing. She’s one of the baron’s maids, and her magic is… not suited for combat. I’ve tried asking her to assist, but it’s difficult to pull her from her duties. She and the baron are... er—nevermind.”

  Veronica made a mental note of that. In this rural town, there was only one other mage here. One that worked for the baron.

  Luthen continued. “The men have little experience against magic. Most monsters they fight are physical threats—goblins, wolves, the rare ogre like this morning. But a mage? Someone who can launch unpredictable magic at them? That’s something they need to be prepared for. Same thing if they met a magically enhanced creature. Like a goblin mage.”

  Veronica folded her arms. “And you want me to… what, exactly?”

  “Controlled combat drills,” he said simply. “Teach them what it feels like to face magical pressure. I want them dodging spells, reacting under stress, maintaining formation—all of it. Nothing lethal of course, nothing that’ll blow another crater in my barracks.”

  His expression hardened, yet he maintained a smile all the same. “Just rough them up so they know what to expect. Some of the folks here have dreams of moving on to bigger things. A guard who has no experience fighting a mage or swordsman has no chance of moving to a big city.”

  She considered it. It would cost her mana. It would cost her time. But she needed the money—even if 500 vix was little more than pocket change compared to what she once had. It wouldn’t take too long, she supposed. Just a few hours—and it would let her acclimate to her new body a bit more. Even now, she was still afraid to cast mana so freely.

  The fear of Medusa's curse was embedded deep within her core. It wasn't easy to just simply ignore it.

  “Alright,” she said at last. “I can do that.”

  Luthen’s brows lifted slightly in satisfaction. “Good. Let’s get started.”

  He stood and opened the office door. A sharp whistle cut through the barracks. The guards straightened immediately, their chatter dying as they faced him.

  “Listen up!” Luthen barked. “This is Veronica—the mage that helped us take down the ogre this morning. She’s here to help with combat drills. You’re going to learn how to defend against a magic user. No complaints.”

  The guards exchanged looks. Some intrigued. Some doubtful. Only a few guards had actually seen her take down the ogre in the morning.

  A burly man with thick arms crossed over his chest snorted. “We’re fighting her? She looks too skinny to be able to pick up a sword. Also—why is she in rags?”

  Veronica chuckled quietly. She raised her hand and formed a fireball above her palm. She looked over at Captain Luthen. “Mind if I start now?”

  He grinned. “Go ahead.”

  The man’s eyes went wide as Veronica immediately threw the fireball at him. He picked up the shield at his side and brought it up, only to be struck and sent flying backwards out of formation.

  “Haha! This will be some great training,” Captain Luthen bellowed. “Everyone! To the courtyard!”

  The guards scrambled after Luthen, boots thudding across the packed dirt as they entered the courtyard. It wasn’t large—just an open training ground surrounded by wooden fencing—but it would serve.

  “Form up!” Luthen barked.

  Two neat lines formed instantly, shields forward, spears braced. Veronica stepped across from them, rolling her shoulders in anticipation.

  “You may begin whenever you wish,” Luthen said.

  Veronica lifted her hand. Mana sparked.

  “I’ll go easy,” she promised.

  She absolutely did not. At least, it didn’t seem that way to the guards. She was, however, in fact, going very easy. Everything she used were Tier-1 spells at minimal power. If she wanted to, she could cast up to Tier-2 spells.

  A barrage of small firebolts burst from her palm, peppering the shield wall. The first few guards lifted their shields, but the bolts hit like heavy punches, shoving them backward. One stumbled, flailing backward.

  “Hold formation!” Luthen shouted. “Tighten that line!”

  Another volley came. This time the shields rose more cohesively, though the guards still grunted under the impact.

  “BACK ROW—SPEARS FORWARD!” Luthen ordered.

  They obeyed, though with shaky coordination.

  Veronica snapped her fingers, sending a gust of wind ripping through the formation. Dust swirled over them, forcing several guards to blink rapidly.

  “Eyes open!” Luthen barked. “Don’t lose track of your enemy! Move up!”

  The line moved together, slightly clumsy but improving.

  Veronica twirled her wrist, forming a tight sphere of compressed air. She lobbed it gently—then snapped her fingers. It detonated midair like a concussive firecracker.

  Several guards stumbled with startled shouts.

  “Again!” Luthen snapped. “Stand up and recover formation! If something is launched at you—expect the worst! Explosive or poison!”

  Exploding poison is more of an assassin type thing, not a mage thing, Veronica thought.

  The guards reset, eyes all narrow. They became less intimidated and more focused as time went on.

  Veronica’s grin deepened. She was amused seeing how hard the guards were working. It had been years since she’d used magic and fought against others in a non-life-or-death scenario. A small part of her felt a spark of energy she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Even though this wasn’t exactly a “fight,” and more of a one-sided beatdown. And of course, that didn’t stop the guards from complaining.

  A freckled guard glared at Veronica. “Ma’am, with all due respect, this is insane! ”

  “Good,” Veronica said brightly. “Combat is insane. Learn to handle it.”

  “Captain!” someone shouted. “This is too hard!”

  Luthen didn’t hesitate. “Cry later! Shields UP!”

  Veronica smothered a laugh as she conjured a small stormcloud overhead—barely the size of a barrel—crackling softly with fiery embers. A rain of fire, though shallow, shot forth from the cloud over the formation like glowing raindrops.

  The guards raised shields and huddled together, sparks pattering against the metal.

  “HOT! HOT! HOT!” someone yelled.

  “Then move your shield more, idiot!” Luthen barked. “Adjust your angle! If the attacks coming from above, guard above!”

  Another blast of wind thundered from Veronica’s palm, scattering embers and nearly tipping the front row. She had been conservative with her mana at first, but as more time went on, she got the hang of it—casting spells without worry.

  “We—can’t—keep—doing this!” one of them huffed, breathing hard. “Captain—it’s too much!”

  Luthen shot a glare that could kill a troll. “You think a mage cares about your stamina? Again! Veronica—give them another!”

  Veronica’s smile widened. It was almost sadistic. “Gladly.”

  She fired a compressed kinetic shot—strong, but not enough to injure—straight into the front shield. The guards slid backward in a perfect line, boots digging as they held formation.

  “That’s it!” Luthen roared. “Now advance! Five steps, shields locked! GO!”

  This continued on for hours. Veronica felt her mana draining rapidly with each cast, but she didn’t care. She was enjoying this. The freedom. The motion. The thrill of using her magic without impediment.

  “Can all mages cast this much magic? What’s with her?!”

  “Captain, is this how strong a goblin mage is?”

  “George, your ass is on fire!”

  “What? My a—Oh god! Put it out!”

  “Don’t break formation you idiots!” Captain Luthen yelled.

  Veronica chuckled.

  Even before, she was conservative on any spell she used due to Medusa’s curse. The low-tier spells didn’t affect her that much, but consistent use of her mana, did. Now, she felt like a child again, throwing around spells and magic just for fun.

  A few hours passed before Luthen finally raised a hand.

  She’s impressive. There’s no way a tier-1 mage has this much mana to cast so many spells for so long. She has to be hiding her real tier, he thought. He was curious, but not enough to ask. If she had her reasons, then she had her reasons.

  “Alright! Enough! Cool down!”

  The guards collapsed like felled trees, panting, groaning, wiping sweat and soot from their faces.

  One man wheezed, “I think… I think she killed my soul…”

  Another groaned, “I’m seeing fireballs when I blink.”

  A third whispered, “I’m scared to shower later. What if she’s hiding behind the steam?”

  A female guard elbowed him in the side. “After all this hellish training, you can’t help but think about taking a shower with her?!”

  “That’s not what I—”

  She hit him in the side again, as several of the other guards chuckled.

  Veronica clasped her hands neatly behind her back, smile bright and polite. “Good work, everyone. You all improved a lot.”

  The guards gave her the hollow-eyed stare of people who had been spiritually broken and rebuilt.

  Luthen clapped her on the shoulder. “You went easy on them toward the end. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  Veronica shrugged lightly, still smiling. “I thought I should give them some hope.”

  “Bah. Hope is for people who don’t train hard enough,” Luthen said proudly. “Tomorrow, we go again.”

  The guards groaned in unison.

  Veronica laughed. It was a small, warm sound she hadn’t made in years.

  Luthen turned to face Veronica. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”

  She nodded. “If I find the time and get paid, sure.” She looked down at her fingers and flexed them. “This wasn’t too bad. It was actually quite fun.”

  Unrestrained mana usage. Worry-free casting. It was everything she could ever want.

  Oh, I could get used to this.