A wooden 'door' lay upon the hillside. There was a small 'cave' that had been hastily carved out of the dirt and rock. Within lay a bed of leaves. Atop those leaves was precisely one half-beastkin girl, aged 14. Even more strange was the pink monster she was curled up against. Said pink monster was being used as a hug-pillow, though that is beside the point.

Amalia Alcott stirred, rubbing her eyes wearily. With a large yawn, she began fighting off that sleepy sensation. For the girl, such restful and relaxed nights were few and far between. If nothing else productive came from meeting the bizarre existence known as Rozalin, Amalia could at least take comfort in having someone to guard her while she slept.

The benefits of such rest were becoming obvious. Amalia felt much better throughout the day, more energetic, and if anyone looked it was clear her eyes had taken on their prior sharp and inquisitive glint. While dark circles were still present, given time they too would surely diminish.

"Did you sleep well, child?"

It was odd for Amalia, trying to get used to the woman's voice that frequently entered her mind.

"Good morning, Rozalin. I did, thank you."

Even more odd when she looked at the pink Slime that was beside her. As cute as Rozalin may be, Slimes were still typically monsters that would try to eat and dissolve you. Or at least rummage through your belongings while you slept. They were a nuisance-class monster often below even goblins.

As Amalia rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched her limbs out, she couldn't help but wonder if this whole thing was a dream. It just didn't make sense. Nothing made sense whenever it came to Rozalin. Everything she'd learned prior about survival and common sense was being put to the test.

Each time Rozalin spoke, Amalia felt mentally drained by the Slime's questioning. Her entire relationship with the pink slimeball was convoluted. Amalia was still having problems feeling secure around the monster, despite Rozalin showing nothing but goodwill so far.

Even if said 'goodwill' nearly got them eaten by a Gold Thunderbear.

Amalia sighed.

Well, at least she'd be able to get her bearing now as they headed towards Berrios. She was extremely worried about bringing a monster into town. It was already bad enough she'd been essentially exiled from Kulve. Information wouldn't have made it to Berrios, but if someone wanted to cause trouble for her, it'd be extremely easy.

She silently prayed that Rozalin would behave and not attract problems. The more she conversed with her, the less likely that seemed. Anxiety would spread whenever Amalia thought about that topic. Rozalin seemed to attract both fortune and disaster in equal numbers.

'At least I'm not alone anymore,' she thought to herself.

The social isolation and uncertainty had driven the young girl to the brink of despair. Even if her current companion was rather questionable, it was as they say, 'better than nothing'.

... Probably.

Amalia shook her head, 'I shouldn't doubt Rozalin just because she's a monster! And thinks ... strangely.'

With slightly renewed enthusiasm, the girl propped herself up and tried to mentally prepare for the day. While her physical condition may be better as of late, Amalia had been rather exhausted mentally from dealing with the past few days. The fact she was able to sleep so soundly the past three nights was a huge boon.

Still, she couldn't help marvel at how fast Rozalin was able to dig this cave. Watching the Slime tear through, eat and dissolve dirt and rock was a marvel. It did bring other things to mind regarding the Thunderbear corpse. That was ... disgusting. Best not to think of it.

Ever since Amalia met Rozalin, she felt changed. She wasn't sure if it was just Rozalin's 'nightly attentions' or something else. What she was sure of is that Rozalin was special somehow. After all, since that night Amalia noted a fundamental difference whenever she examined herself.

Status Menu Name : Amalia Alcott Race : Human, Beastkin Level : 5 HP : 31/31 (+1.9/hour) Stamina : 24/24 MP : 16/16 (+0.53/hour) Strength : 7 Vitality : 12 Intelligence : 8 Wisdom : 10 Dexterity : 11 Luck : 1

Yes. Ever since then, whenever she asked the Gods about her condition, everything looked different. Previously, it would only state her name, race, level, and if she were afflicted with any abnormal conditions. This was to be expected. This was normal.

Since meeting Rozalin, not only had she leveled up and gotten rid of her 'Malnourishment' condition, she'd even started seeing a shining light in the corner of her vision at times. Rather than the Divine messages rushing into her head without pause, it was as if they were waiting for her to give them attention. Almost like she could command them.

This change was deeply unsettling. It was very not normal.

What's more, Amalia had felt some strange sense of kinship with Rozalin since they met. It seemed like their meeting was almost destined. After all, it was only since that day that she'd noticed a message from the Gods that basically stated it as so. Who was she to argue?

You've met with a fortuitous encounter! Attribute increase!

Luck - null → 1

So despite all 14 years worth of Amalia's common sense screaming at her to run away from such a monster, she decided to stay. She'd stay and trust Rozalin. Even if the Slime was strange. Very, very strange.

I mean, who even thought Slimes had genders? That didn't make sense. Her being pink didn't make sense. Her smelling like flowers didn't make sense. There was virtually nothing about Rozalin that made sense.

Yet she didn't feel any ill intent from the squishy little Slime. If anything, Rozalin was suspiciously nice to her. Amalia had met good-natured people before, but her father always warned her that humans, especially men and nobles, had ulterior motives. Since Rozalin was neither male nor human, does that mean Amalia didn't have to worry? That seemed ... unlikely.

Whatever the case, it was nice to have a companion. Even if ... said companion kept clinging to her uncomfortably and felt cold and ticklish against her skin. Seriously, was it really necessary for Rozalin to cling to her there? It seemed so ... improper!

Or so she thought.

The two continued traveling, with Amalia trying to ignore the magical poking and prodding Rozalin kept subjecting her to. Feeling the warm currents of Mana left the beastkin girl flushed. For the most part, she was able to ignore such things by focusing on her surroundings.

Even if she now had something like a guardian, letting her senses dull just wouldn't do. Amalia had no intention of being attacked again, though being on the main road reduced the chances of that happening.

Bandits generally wouldn't be so bold as to assault passersby in broad daylight. Besides that, the only thing she had of value was basically herself, which was worrisome in another way.

Yet Amalia's biggest fear was, ironically, the patrols that seldom went up and down the roads. They would only increase in frequency once closer to Berrios. She did not want to be stopped and interrogated.

Legally speaking, it would not be out of their jurisdiction to bar Amalia from entering the city. Assuming she met a patrolman who was law-savvy and had a dislike for beastkin, it wouldn't be difficult to make Amalia's day a living hell.

As such, when Amalia spotted a large entourage group of men and carriages making their way down the highway, her mind shook. That dreadful fright was soon replaced with a mix of trepid excitement as she recognized what they wore.

Those 'men' weren't mere patrolmen, but actual, fully-armored knights. There were well over a dozen of them.

The girl's tail started wagging without her mind to govern it properly. Amalia stood off to the side of the road. She held a cupped hand against her chest per Brita's military salute.

Despite the pain and injustice inflicted upon her by society as a whole, Amalia never stopped idolizing those who served as the forefront of Brita's military. They were the backbone of the nation—brave men and women who guarded against monsters, barbarians, and invaders.

Rozalin's voice echoed in her head, "Amalia, what are you doing? There are people coming. Shouldn't you move off the road a little more?"

"They're knights, Rozalin! I have to show proper respect!"

"I'm not following that logic. I must insist we quickly move aside, as I don't want to be discovered."

"It'll be fine, Rozalin. If there are these many Knights, surely they must be on an important mission! They're not going to stop for us. Maybe there's a monster terrorizing a local village, or an army of undead, or those bandits, or—"

"Oh. They're stopping. ... Alright, I'm hiding. You'll have to handle this."

Amalia's mouth twitched as the mental link between her and Rozalin went silent. Rather than argue with the Slime, Amalia's attention was brought towards a large knight and horse that were arriving in front of her.

They'd really stopped.

The knight's voice boomed forth, distorted slightly from his metallic helmet, "You there! Child, why are you on the roadside alone? State your name and business."

By this point, several more knights had brought up the rear.

Amalia spoke, "S-Sir! Amalia Alcott, traveling south from Kulve to Berrios."

"And your reason for travel?"

"I-I am seeking to join the Knight Order, just like my father, Sir."

One of the knights let out muffled laughter. A man beside the first trotted up, lifting his helmet visor. His voice was clearly younger than the first man's—more melodic and with a condescending tone.

"Captain Hendrickson, perhaps we should bring this girl in for questioning? She's clearly unwell to be spouting such lies and drivel."

Amalia shrank, her body shaking lightly, "Lies? B-But I've done no such thing."

The younger knight spoke up, intentionally raising his voice to the point of theatrics.

"Surely you jest! After all, for a mixed mutt like you, what else are you implying other than a noble Knight would stoop so low as to lay with a dog?"

There was a small chorus of chuckles from some of the men further in the back.

The young girl's mouth involuntarily twisted with rage, canines exposed for a brief moment. After that flash of emotion passed, she realized her current situation and quickly wiped most of that anger from her face.

The man's eyes narrowed as he continued, "You have your identification and paperwork, I assume?"

Amalia replied affirmatively before handing the bronze-colored identification plate over. After a short moment of looking it over, the knight tossed the plate over his shoulder a short ways off the main road into the mud and grass. There was a large smile on his face.

"Ah, my hand slipped. Seems to check out though, so you are free to proceed! ... But if you're traveling to Berrios, do everyone a favor and make sure you take a bath beforehand. Even if you're only a Half, we don't want fleas spreading. That would be considered a disruption of public order, after all!"

There was another small chorus of laughs. Meanwhile, all Amalia could do was clench her fists and stare at the ground. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.

The knight named Hendrickson spoke, "That's enough, Lieutenant Morel. We've more important things to do than berate beastkin children. Resume formation. ... Now."

Lieutenant Morel sloppily saluted the man as the remaining knights trotted back into position. Hendrickson looked towards Amalia, who was still staring at the ground.

"Girl, I advise you return home. The Knight Order is not a friendly place for soldiers of your ... heritage. You will have a hard time should you continue."

The air was filled with the sound of several knights re-saddling, their horses' hooves clopping against the dirt and stone road.

Amalia's voice was choked and hushed, "Father was a mighty Knight-Captain of Kulve. Mother was a proud wolfkin surveyor of Capria. I will become a knight, just like Father. I must."

Captain Hendrickson sighed from atop his horse, before turning away.

"All the same. I wish you good luck."

The knights on horseback trotted past Amalia, carriages in tow. Most of them remained silent or simply ignored the girl, however, a few jeers still made their way over.

"I'll definitely do it," the young girl muttered to herself, standing at the edge of the road.

Tiny droplets landed on the dirt, darkening the earth below. A streak of crimson slid down the girl's chin. One small pink tendril reached up from the girl's nape, wiping away the tears and blood. Magic swirled around the tip of that tendril, slowly sealing the cut lip back shut.

"You will become a knight. I chose you, after all. Remember, 'If a fool stones you, then return the pain tenfold.' "

Rozalin's voice melted into Amalia's mind, whispering words of comfort.

"Your frustrations stem from the fact that you have no recourse. Once you are strong enough, men like those will dare not say such things to you ever again. Strength is often synonymous with justice, and we lack both right now. In the future, such scenarios will end very, very differently."

There was a vicious barb in the end of Rozalin's tone. Yet the strange comfort of Rozalin's support and Amalia knowing someone understood how she felt right now seemed to dull that pointy thorn. It became easy to overlook. There was something about Rozalin's voice that made it so.

Amalia just had to become stronger. Become a knight. That's all.

The girl wiped her eyes before walking over to retrieve her identification plate. She cleaned it off in the grass as best she could. The noise from the carriages had vanished, and all that was left were the sounds of insects and the rustling wind between trees.

"Y'know Rozalin, even I realize that becoming a knight is a silly dream for someone like me. But ever since I was a child, I looked up to my father. Clad in his silver armor, brandishing a sword. Sweating out in the training field, directing his apprentices and other soldiers. He always looked so strong and gallant.

"As far back as I can remember, I always thought to myself, "I want to be as strong as Dad is!" ... I guess I thought that perhaps if I were, I could be closer and protect him too. That way he wouldn't have to be the one watching over me all the time. Especially after he took ill, I wanted to be his strength. Somehow.

"Yet now, I often find myself wondering if there's any point. He's gone, after all. So now I just have this silly dream. A dream without reason, one that simply ... exists."

There was a lengthy silence as Amalia knelt down beside the road, her fingers white around the metal identification plate. After that long pause, the words that followed seemed to take on a different tone than any Amalia had heard from Rozalin before.

"The heart wants what it wants."

Something about those words seemed to resonate within Amalia's chest.

"Wants what it wants, huh?" the girl repeated softly.

"Mm. A frien— ... no, a bastard I knew a long time ago, he told me that once. He'd always be reading books, so I dismissed that excuse. It took me longer than it should have to understand those words. In the past, I thought it was a cheap reason, but I guess what I'm saying is ... If you want to be a knight, then be a knight. There's nothing wrong with that."

Thoughts and questions swirled around in Amalia's head. She was used to poor treatment, but coming from a group of the very knights she idolized? It stung horribly. She felt bitter.

"Rozalin, ... thank you. I mean it."

An awkward pause.

"I-It's nothing."

Amalia laughed. It was funny to hear Rozalin stammer like that. Amalia wasn't sure how a Slime could stutter, but she thought it cute for some reason. She wondered if Rozalin was even aware she did it sometimes. The squishy monster seemed prone to flamboyant and bizarre mannerisms every so often. It seemed to suit her.

Rozalin continued, "Well, uhm, a-anyway we should continue our journey. Berrios is not far from here, no? Carry us forth, O' trusty steed."

A smile continued to creep onto Amalia's lips as she whispered softly, "Your wish is my command, my liege."

And thus, slowly, the distance between them and the town of Berrios shrank.

—Several hours later, along the main road north of Berrios.

"Morel, I know you've no love for those eastern savages, but taking your frustrations out on a small child is unbecoming."

The man who spoke had a coarse, gray beard and numerous scars lining his face. His hazel eyes were locked onto the young knight opposite him and his brow was furrowed in mild displeasure.

For the most part, the knight he spoke to stood with relative indifference. Though there was a gap of one military rank between the men and thus an established chain of command, the lieutenant knight known as Morel was also the 2nd son of nobility in Berrios.

Morel had deep-blue eyes and curly, golden hair. He was what many would consider handsome. A smirk always seemed to lay upon his face, portraying a sense of either arrogance or ironic amusement.

"Now Hendrickson, I was merely expressing my opinion. A single girl traveling alone on the roads? Wouldn't you say that's most suspicious? And to think, she says her father is a knight? I can't help but be doubtful. Weren't we sent on this expedition to check for any abnormalities?"

The Knight-Captain named Hendrickson frowned, "Ah, that we are. Check for any abnormalities in the Dungeon. Not push around citizens of the Kingdom. Get your head on straight, lad. Need I remind you that if her remarks are true, you've slandered a deceased Knight-Captain and implied he fucks a household pet? Have some respect for the dead!"

By the end of his berating, Captain Hendrickson had nearly snarled at Morel, causing the latter to narrow his eyes. Tension was in the air.

"With all due respect, Sir, if a Knight-Captain of the proud Kingdom of Brita would lay with the enemy—dogs and all manner of beasts they are—then I would argue that such a man has disrespected himself and this proud nation enough."

There were several other knights in the room, all of whom were silent, as the two highest-ranking officers stared bitterly at each other.

Hendrickson spoke, "You'll do well to keep a more open mind, boy. Antagonizing without reason leads to enemies you've no point having. Show some compassion. Might keep your head attached to your neck a few more years."

With a huff, the Captain turned—apparently done with the conversation. He sat a short distance away from the group and began sipping on a goatskin flask from his hip. This only seemed to irritate Morel more, having not gotten the last word.

It was with a grin that Morel turned towards one of the younger knights present, "Ah, what think you, Knight Faust? What is Sir Blake's opinion on the beastkin child? Was I wrong to be suspicious?"

The tone Morel used was a feint of worry and aggrievance. Nonetheless, the spotlight shifted to the lower-ranking man.

"I've no opinion on the matter, Lieutenant Morel," Blake sighed calmly.

Internally, the man was complaining about this entire trip. If it hadn't been for Castella and that damn Dungeon, he'd still be enjoying some time off. What's more, why did Morel have to involve him in the conversation? Had he done something to annoy the man?

But as with many things, the answer is often simple. Blake Faust was an easy target right now. That's all.

Morel frowned and shook his head with displeasure, "Ohh, how absent-minded of me. No opinion? I'd nearly forgotten. The horse-lover wouldn't dare condemn the beastkin race. I'm almost surprised you didn't attempt to assault that hairy little wench the moment you laid eyes on her tail. Tut, tut!"

Blake's fists shook in anger, but he merely bit his tongue. Several of the men laughed at the remark, while a few others shook their heads or chuckled at Morel to lay off. Blake's alcohol and magic-fueled blunder wasn't something he wanted to spread any further than it had. This 'joke' dug deep.

The evening carried on. By the time the moon was high in the sky, the knights had set up camp and taken three shifts sleeping and standing guard. Once dawn broke, they'd arrive at the Dungeon and begin their inspection.

Beneath the sliver of moon hanging in the sky, Captain Hendrickson sat against a tree. The older gentleman was keeping watch. A scowl was present on his face.

He muttered to himself, "For a child to be in the wilds, surviving alone like that. And she had so much magic power surrounding her body, despite her young age. Why a knight, rather than a mage?"

Hendrickson slowly sipped on his flask, pondering both today and how the fight with the supposed Mirrorback would go. More than likely, they'd have to recover Castella's corpse and belongings should they remain. Doubtful, but a grim thought.

His mind wandered back to that half-beastkin child from earlier, causing him to click his tongue.

"Tch! Those bratty upstarts of mine probably didn't notice anything about her. Didn't they see her perfect salute and posture, or that zeal and excitement in her eyes? I'd rather have a young woman like that under my command than these damned entitled children of nobility. Pains in the arse, all of 'em."

This trip had put Hendrickson in a poor mood. Ever since he'd been transferred to Berrios, there'd been nothing that sparked his interest. There were more than a few rotten apples under his command, and he was barely able to keep them in check. So with a deep sigh, the old knight looked up at the moon, flask in hand.

And so, he drank.