Journey to Become the Zenith

The Maiden in Steel

When Victor heard what the man said, he immediately understood why the crowd had gathered like flies to honey.

They weren’t here for a quest.

They weren’t here for work.

They were here to look at Clara.

His good mood cooled.

Not shattered—just cooled.

Though Clara wasn’t officially his woman yet, Victor had already drawn a quiet line in his heart. She stood within his circle. Within his notice.

And these men crowding the entrance like starving wolves?

Unpleasant.

Very unpleasant.

The golden warmth in his eyes dimmed.

Something colder surfaced.

Victor didn’t shout.

He didn’t step forward aggressively.

He simply breathed out.

And released it.

It started like a whisper in the air—thin, invisible, almost imperceptible. Then it thickened. A pressure descended, not crushing but suffocating. The space around the guild entrance seemed to shrink.

Those standing closest felt it first.

A prickle at the back of the neck.

A chill crawling down the spine.

Then—

The sensation of standing before something that had killed before. Something that did not hesitate.

Victor’s killing intent wasn’t wild or explosive. It was refined. Controlled. Focused like a drawn blade.

The sunlight felt dimmer. The air heavier.

The men in front of the guild doors suddenly found their knees weakening. Sweat poured down their temples. One swallowed dryly, another trembled as if winter had arrived without warning.

It felt like death had quietly stepped behind them and rested a hand on their shoulders.

They didn’t dare turn around.

They ran.

No shouting. No argument.

Just instinct.

Boots scraped against stone as they scattered like startled animals.

The man Victor had spoken to didn’t even wait for the pressure to fully settle. The moment he saw Victor’s face darken, he bowed hurriedly.

”I’m sorry!”

Then he fled.

Within moments, the crowd dissolved.

Silence reclaimed the guild entrance.

And there she stood.

Clara.

She was clad in flexible plate mail, polished but not ornamental. Beneath it, chain mail shimmered faintly with each subtle shift of her posture. The armor was crafted for movement, not show—curved along her slender waist, reinforcing her shoulders and thighs without restricting them.

In her left hand, she carried a shield—compact, round, practical.

In her right, a gladius rested loosely, balanced and ready.

She wore no helmet.

Her blonde hair—usually tied in a practical ponytail during her days as guild secretary—was now woven into a braided bun, neat and elegant, exposing the graceful line of her neck. Stray strands framed her sharp, serious face. Her purple eyes were steady, observant, faintly challenging.

A battle maiden.

Firm.

Valiant.

And undeniably striking.

Victor paused.

A moment passed - his breath caught, unprepared. Surprise flickered across his face before he could hide it.

Lane stood next to him, a small shift tightening her gaze.

She must have had a reason. Could it be about getting Victor’s attention? Maybe something deeper is going on behind her actions. Perhaps he already knows more than we think

Something small began to nag at her insides. Quietly, it rose where she felt nothing before.

A shadow shifted - Victor moved toward Clara, the last traces of murderous impulse fading as morning breath thins smoke. The air between them settled, neither warm nor cold, just still.

”Hey, what’s with the new look?”

Her eyes landed on him, then swept past - people stepping back, silence hanging thick. What went down clicked fast, no need for words.

”This was my equipment back when I was still an active adventurer,” she said evenly. ”Now that I’m back to adventuring, I decided to wear it again.”

Closer now, Victor watched how she held herself, noticing the fit of the metal as it moved with her body.

”It looks good on you.”

A small flicker passed over Clara’s eyebrows.

”It doesn’t matter if it looks good or not. The important thing is its functionality, not the looks.”

That praise felt too much like what she always got before. Her voice tightened, nearly on guard.

A small tilt shifted Victor’s head to one side.

”Oh, I know that. I didn’t say it because of something stupid like outward appearances.”

With a small motion of his hand, he pointed at how she was standing.

”I said it because the armor you’re wearing, alongside the shield and sword, feels right for you. It fits the way you fight. The spear you used before didn’t. This suits you.”

A pause caught her - just for an instant. Half a heartbeat held still.

Far from staring at her shape, his gaze stayed elsewhere.

He wasn’t praising her beauty.

He was analyzing her combat style.

Her grip.

Her weight distribution.

He had noticed.

A faint flush colored her cheeks before she turned slightly away.

”...I see.”

One of the reasons she found him interesting was precisely this. He didn’t look at her the way others did.

Lane noticed the subtle shift in Clara’s posture—and didn’t like it.

But she remained silent.

After a few more words, the three entered the guild.

Inside, the air smelled of parchment, ale, and iron. Adventurers moved about, but their voices were hushed after the display outside.

They approached the receptionist.

Clara spoke first. ”He’s the adventurer who conquered the dungeon recently.”

The receptionist—a young woman with glasses perched low on her nose—blinked and hurriedly pulled out documents. She double-checked seals, signatures, and mana imprints.

After verifying everything, she reached beneath the counter and placed a heavy pouch before Victor.

”The guild’s share has been processed. This is your thirty percent.”

Victor opened the pouch.

White gold coins gleamed faintly.

Seventy white gold coins.

A significant sum.

With that amount, an ordinary citizen could live comfortably for decades. Even minor noble families would treat such wealth seriously.

Victor tied the pouch shut calmly.

Then he reached inside and counted out exactly sixty white gold coins.

He pressed them into Lane’s hands quietly.

”Take this to the Southern District,” he murmured. ”Deliver to our new friend”

Lane’s eyes Sharpen.

She nodded without hesitation.

”I’ll handle it.”

Clara raised a brow.

”Where is she going?”

”Just giving some money to a friend in need,” Victor replied casually.

”Really?”

”Yeah.”

Lane didn’t argue or question. She left immediately.

Clara watched her go, thoughtful.

”Most adventurers don’t part with white gold so easily,” she said quietly.

Victor shrugged.

”Money’s useless if it only sits in a pouch.”

Clara didn’t respond, but something in her gaze shifted—respect, perhaps.

They walked toward the bulletin board filled with requests.

”So,” Victor said lightly, scanning the postings, ”what kind of quest can we take, Clara?”

”Our party rank is B,” she replied. ”Mainly because both you and Lane are B-ranked. So we can take anything from C-minus up to A-ranked quests. You pick.”

Victor scanned the parchment sheets.

Gather rare flowers from the Forest of the Forgotten Knight to the east.

Subdue a rampaging beast near Kanal Village.

Investigate rumors of evil spirits haunting abandoned shrines.

Eliminate a self-proclaimed necromancer sighted near the cemetery ridge—someone rumored to harness corrupt mana and cold, grave-born energy.

Routine.

Predictable.

Boring.

He kept searching.

Then—

A strange request.

No rank listed.

”Hey, Clara. What’s this? It doesn’t say the rank.”

She leaned closer.

”That’s a special quest. Its rank is undetermined because the difficulty and danger level are unknown.”

She read the description aloud softly.

”There’s suspicious movement from an unidentified monster in the northwest mountains. The guild needs someone to determine what it is. If possible, slay it. If not, return and report.”

She folded her arms.

”It could be a wyvern. Or something worse. Without identification, it remains a special request.”

Victor’s lips curved.

His golden eyes gleamed with interest.

Unknown.

Unmeasured.

Unpredictable.

Finally, something not boring.

He tore the parchment from the board.

”We’ll be doing this quest.”

Clara saw the excitement in his gaze.

She didn’t try to dissuade him.

She had already learned that once Victor decided something—

It was decided.

Victor rolled his shoulders lightly, feeling the familiar stir of anticipation in his veins.

”Our first job as adventurers... Heh, I’m actually getting pretty excited.”