Risir began explaining the recent events to the astonished Pien.

"That day, when I left you waiting, I ran into Salana, the scarred senior adventurer. Turns out, he was actually the master of the Assassins' Guild. I followed him, and there was a shaman involved, who also happened to be a necromancer."

"And?"

"So, I purified them."

He continued without missing a beat.

"Then the Master of the Magic Tower took an interest in me and showed me around. While there, I noticed a dark mage using mental interference on the Tower members."@@novelbin@@

"And?"

"So, I purified them."

His tone was calm as if he were recounting mundane errands.

"After that, I had an unexpected duel with the Tower's genius mage. I won, and as a reward, I received an ancient magical book. But it turned out to be cursed, filled with malicious power."

"So I purified that too. Then, as I returned to the inn last night, I felt something coming. I spent the night focusing and consolidating my energy, and, well, here we are."

"A necromancer? The master of the Assassins' Guild?" Pien blinked slowly, her mind reeling.

Where was she even supposed to start being surprised?  

At the sheer number of insane events crammed into such a short time?  

At how casually he spoke about these life-threatening encounters?  

Or at the fact that he had achieved what would take most people decades—within days?  

Or maybe at how she was already starting to accept his utterly unbelievable story without question?

Pien felt a growing sense of dread. Was this her fate? To have nonsensical conversations with him someday, such as:

"Oh, this? I just woke up and reached the sixth tier of magic."  

"Well, proper sleep does wonders for growth."

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed Lona sitting nearby.

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