CHAPTER 44: CHAPTER 44: MAGICAL BEAST

By the time Ryan finished reading, he already had his answer.

The mage Melania Luna had ultimately failed in her attempt to ascend to Archmage.

Though she never explicitly stated what method she intended to use for her breakthrough, if she had succeeded, her mage tower wouldn’t now lie in ruins.

The path of magical transcendence is far more difficult than that of a knight—it relies heavily on talent.

The progression for mages is as follows:

Mage Apprentice → Spellcaster → Mage → Great Mage → Magus → Grand Magus → Archmage → Sanctum Mage → Legendary Mage.

Upon reaching the level of Archmage, a mage must possess their own mage tower, used to store vast amounts of mana. Only with this foundation can they cast powerful spells—even forbidden ones.

In short, only those with a mage tower are truly Archmages. Without it, they are no different from Grand Magi.

And when an Archmage falls, the tower is destroyed. When the tower is destroyed, even if the Archmage survives—it’s effectively over for them.

"It seems that Mage Luna tried to use her golem puppet to break through—but something went wrong. The puppet went berserk and destroyed the tower."

Ryan ordered the soldiers to carry the potatoes and began the return journey back to the fortress.

Soon after, he opened the Gate to Another Plane and led everyone back to the Frozen Territory.

Although the haul wasn’t immense, the discovery of potatoes still filled Ryan with joy. As expected, the other world remained his greatest source of wealth.

Upon returning, Ryan gave further instructions to the former barons of the Aexniel continent:

"As you can see, my territory also lies on the edge of the northern wastes. But at least it isn’t as cold. I will grant you each a parcel of land—and for the next three years, I will not tax you."

Having obtained treasures from these nobles worth over 60,000 gold coins, Ryan was generous. Besides, he knew each of them still secretly held some gold, enough to hire commoners or even purchase slaves from him to build their manors.

He handed the potatoes over to the old steward and explained some basics about cultivating them. Then, Ryan personally led another expedition to explore and develop the hills around the Frozen Territory.

For the Frozen Territory, nothing was more important than opening new farmland.

"Spring is here. Even the wild beasts have started to stir. Brand, once we’re back, find some men and train a group of militia for hunting."

Ryan gave the order, and Brand immediately responded with a firm "Yes."

Staring at the life-tinged slopes ahead, Ryan reached out to touch the leaves of a nearby tree. He could still feel the lingering chill.

He sighed. If he wanted to feed the ever-growing population of the Frozen Territory, the initial stage alone would require at least ten thousand acres of farmland. Without farmland, there would be no food. Without food, no army. And without an army, he’d be nothing more than a backwater baron.

That was unacceptable.

So the answer was clear: develop land. Grow crops. Whatever it took.

"Why does it feel like... it just got colder?"

Ryan stopped. He looked around. The forested mountains had gone strangely quiet—no chirping birds, no rustling animals. For spring, the world seemed lifeless.

"Be careful."

Brand drew his knight’s longsword, his knees bent in readiness. He had hunted alone in ice and snow before, and knew well—silence like this meant something deadly was nearby.

On Lane’s other side, Knight Harrington’s armor glowed faintly with red combat energy, and in that moment, his pupils transformed into vertical crimson slits.

It was the Breath Technique of the Rimehart family—the art of mimicking breath.

A subtle, invisible dragon might aura spread outward—a predator’s presence from the top of the food chain—instilling faint dread in the creature lurking nearby.

Suddenly, the icy ground beneath their feet collapsed—everyone plummeted downward. And in the instant before they could find their footing, a gaping maw lined with two razor-sharp fangs came lunging straight at them.

Beneath their feet... was a hidden ice cavern.

And more terrifying still, a magical beast lay in wait.

Lane’s pupils shrank sharply as he saw the massive serpent about to swallow him whole. Though his body was that of a full-fledged knight, he had never faced a life-or-death crisis like this before.

At the crucial moment, a greatsword flew beneath his feet. Using it as a springboard, Ryan launched himself sideways, pulling the antler-hilted dagger from his waist and stabbing it into the ice wall, halting his fall.

He managed to cling to the side of the ice wall—but not everyone was so lucky.

His knight retainers and a dozen serfs who had come to survey the land all crashed heavily into the five-meter-deep ice pit below. One man scraped against a jagged ice spike—the ground was quickly stained with blood.

"Frost Serpent. A mature one is peak Tier-2."

Lane’s heart sank.

A Tier-2 magical beast at its peak was equivalent to a Silver-ranked knight.

In another place or time, Ryan might have been confident in killing such a creature. But not here.

The terrain was too open. His group too small.

As Ryan was still calculating options, Brand had already charged in. He had thrown his knight’s sword to give Ryan a foothold, and that weapon was now swallowed whole by the Frost Serpent.

"This is our only chance."

Harrington had already reacted. He charged forward as well. With each step, his armored boots shattered the icy floor beneath.

Brand was incredibly fast—using agile footwork, he closed the distance five body-lengths ahead of Harrington. At that moment, the serpent seemed to realize something was wrong with what it had swallowed. It opened its jaws to vomit out the metal.

At that exact instant, Brand struck—slamming a fist into the serpent’s lower jaw. The powerful blow snapped its gaping mouth shut. Blood spurted visibly from between its jaws.

"It’s wounded!"

Harrington brought his greatsword down on the serpent’s massive, barrel-thick body. The blade shattered a few scales but did little more. Roaring in pain, the Frost Serpent went berserk—its massive tail whipped toward Harrington.

The air itself screamed under the power of the blow. Harrington raised his greatsword to block, but then—

"Grab its tail!"

Brand’s voice shouted from behind.

In that split second, Harrington hesitated—but then let out a roar, dropped his sword, and threw his arms in front of him.

His battle aura erupted. The ancient dragon might in his pupils intensified.

The draconic pressure slowed the serpent’s tail slightly—but even so, when that tree-trunk-thick tail smashed into him, Harrington felt the world spin and heard the sound of cracks in his armor.

Boom!!!

Both he and the tail slammed into the nearby ice wall. The spiked ice below was flattened beneath the crushed remains of his armor.

But even as he lay there, bloodied and bruised, Harrington still gripped the Frost Serpent’s tail with all his might.

Brand took a deep breath—then began pummeling the serpent’s neck, over and over, just beneath its skull.