This region was already under the jurisdiction of another Arch, so Richard had no need to interfere with the local settlements.
His focus remained solely on the outskirts—
the territories where Calami lurked, hunted, and expanded their nests.
Along the way, they encountered Calami at irregular intervals.
Some appeared in small groups, others scattered and disorganized.
Each confrontation ended swiftly.
Ryn was growing accustomed to real combat.
Sword and sorcery flowed together with increasing naturalness, his movements sharper with each passing day.
Several days went by.
The landscape gradually shifted from forests and open plains to barren, unforgiving terrain.
The cold winds grew harsher, cutting deeper into their bones.
At last, they reached the borderlands adjacent to the northern continent.
This place was barely monitored.
Signs of devastation were everywhere—
carcasses of beasts, torn-up earth, and a faint stench of blood lingering in the air.
It didn't take long for them to find the source.
A massive gathering of Calami stood before them.
Far larger than any they had encountered before—
not merely a nest, but a true swarm.
Richard halted.
His hand moved to his weapon, his relaxed demeanor vanishing in an instant.
"This won't be a small job," he said in a low voice.
Ryn drew in a deep breath.
This was no longer training.
This was a real battle.
They exchanged a brief glance—
then stepped forward to face the swarm.
The fight was more brutal than anything before.
There were only two of them,
and the enemy was too numerous to count.
The sound of steel tearing through flesh echoed without end.
Calami fell one after another like leaves in autumn,
yet their numbers barely seemed to thin.
Ryn raised his hand, preparing a spell of fire—
a wall of flames to incinerate their path.
"Don't use fire, you idiot!"
Richard shouted over the chaos.
"Do you want to roast us alive too?!"
Ryn froze.
Only then did he realize—
they were surrounded by dense forest.
If flames spread, the wildfire would devour everything,
including themselves.
He immediately dispelled the fire spell
and shifted to wind instead.
Ryn compressed the air into razor-sharp currents,
narrow and focused, then released them in a single direction.
The blades of wind tore through multiple Calami at once.
Blood sprayed.
Their bodies collapsed without even a scream.
Richard continued to swing his sword relentlessly,
holding the front line.
The clash of metal against monstrous flesh rang out in a brutal rhythm.
No one could say how long the battle lasted.
But Ryn had trained through hunger and exhaustion before—
and so his focus did not waver.
Though his body grew heavy with fatigue,
he continued alternating between wind and light magic,
his blade striking without pause.
At last, the final Calami fell.
Silence swallowed the forest.
Only the sound of their ragged breathing remained,
along with the thick scent of blood that refused to fade.
Ryn was breathing hard, the toll of real combat far heavier than anything he had ever endured in training with Richard.
He leaned against his sword for a moment before finally speaking.
"Master… do you always have to do this kind of work alone?"
Richard, showing hardly any sign of fatigue, let out a quiet laugh.
"Of course. Sometimes it's even worse than this.
This time was actually easier, thanks to you."
He reached out and pulled Ryn back onto his feet.
"That's why I told you—
you're still a hundred years too early to defeat me."
Now, Ryn truly understood those words.
"Let's move a little farther ahead.
We'll make camp for the night there."
And Richard led the way forward.
When they reached the next resting spot, they began preparing camp as usual.
Yet Ryn couldn't hold back his curiosity.
"Master… why do you always go out alone like this?"
Richard immediately shot the question back at him.
"What do you think an Arch is, exactly?"
Ryn fell silent for a moment before answering.
"I've heard that a single Arch can handle thousands of them."
Richard burst into laughter.
"Idiot.
An Arch is still human. We're not that powerful.
If they were thrown into a situation like this, what do you think they'd do?"
He paused briefly, then continued.
"And if an entire army had to be mobilized,
by the time they arrived, the Calami would've already rooted themselves into this land."
Ryn listened carefully before asking again.
"Then how can you do this alone,
when you're human too?"
Richard gave a quiet chuckle.
"That's why I told you—
seek power that is possible,
not legends that may or may not even be real."
His gaze sharpened as he looked at Ryn.
"I'll give you some advice.
You already know most of this—
just control what you have and release it at the right moment.
You're a warrior. Don't rely on magic too much.
It'll only drain you for nothing."
Ryn considered his words.
He was right.
If one spell killed ten enemies,
it still cost him a portion of his life force in return.
But if he relied on his blade, he lost nothing at all.
Ryn began to understand.
Still, he couldn't help but ask,
"Then… why did you teach me magic in the first place?"
Richard smiled.
"Because it tempers your mind.
Your focus has grown steadier, hasn't it?"
Ryn nodded. He could feel the change within himself.
Their journey continued for many more days.
They encountered numerous Calami packs—some small, others far larger.
Ryn followed Richard's guidance, and soon realized he had begun to regulate his own strength.
Where he once exhausted himself recklessly, he now measured his force—
no longer wasting magic, using only what was truly necessary.
Days and nights passed, yet the Calami seemed endless.
They kept appearing, again and again,
until a single thought began to gnaw at his mind:
What they were doing…
…was it all meaningless?
One night, after recovering from a brutal clash with a massive Calami swarm,
Ryn finally spoke.
"Master…
have you ever thought that what we're doing is utterly futile?"
Richard looked at him, then answered calmly.
"Of course.
But not entirely."
"You're thinking that no matter how many we kill, they never truly disappear, aren't you?"
"But consider this—
what happens to the villagers if even a few slip through?"
Ryn understood that much.
Still, doubt lingered, so he pressed on.
"Then why don't we find a way to wipe them out completely?"
Richard gave a faint smile.
"That idea has been around for a long time.
But what do you think the source of the curse really is?"
"Have you ever heard the legends…
or the songs of the Valley of Caramyr?"
Ryn nodded.
It was a tale he had known since his days of military training—
a story almost everyone in the world had heard.
"They thought the same way you do.
They believed the heart of the curse lay at the summit of that mountain.
Many tried to climb it…
but none ever returned."
Richard paused, then asked,
"So tell me—
what do you think happened to them?"
Ryn fell silent.
"If we keep sending forces in, and none of them ever return,
then we're risking too much on something we don't even know can be solved."
"So they stopped.
And instead, they focus on cleansing the borders as thoroughly as possible."
Ryn listened.
The doubt still lingered in his heart,
but he had no argument strong enough to refute the logic.
Richard studied him for a moment, then spoke casually, as if it were nothing important.
"So… want to try going there yourself?"
Ryn froze.
His eyes lit up instantly.
"W–We can go there?
Really?"
Richard nodded.
"Of course. I've tried climbing it before myself.
Only made it to the second layer, though."
"There were too many of them.
I barely made it out alive."
"Once this job's done, I'll take you there."
Ryn could hardly contain his excitement.
"Alright. Get some sleep,"
Richard ordered.
Ryn nodded and lay down as instructed.
But his mind was already far away—
filled with visions of the Valley of Caramyr
and whatever awaited them beyond its cursed heights…