Chapter 89: The Master of the Cave Has Returned

At Rollin's invitation, Victoria sat down at the table. She did not pick up the spoon for the fresh fish soup, instead quietly waiting as Rollin carved the roast meat. With a sharp black dagger in hand, Rollin worked quickly, soon dividing both a Redhorn Sheep and a Blackwing Silverfish into neat portions. He placed a large share into a big bowl set near Little Black.

Already drooling in anticipation, Little Black—much to Victoria's astonishment—plopped himself onto a chair. His hind legs crossed, and his forehooves clamped the bowl, pulling it close as though afraid someone might snatch it away. Witnessing the donkey’s almost human mannerisms, Victoria stared, mouth agape. But when she saw Little Black devour the food with such ravenous abandon, she could hold back no longer and burst into laughter.

“You rascal, aren’t you afraid our guest will laugh at you!” Rollin scolded with a laugh as he took his seat.

During their time in the Maya Mountains, Little Black had grown envious of Rollin eating at the table while he himself had to eat on the ground. Taking matters into his own hooves, Little Black had started climbing onto a chair to eat. At first, it was awkward, but with time, he had grown accustomed to the posture and now regularly dined at the table, even crossing his “legs”—or hooves—in imitation of Rollin.

When Rollin began to eat, Victoria finally picked up her spoon. She carefully sipped the fish soup, and a wave of exquisite flavor washed over her palate. Her long-famished stomach clenched with hunger, and her eyes lit up. Without thinking, she scooped up another spoonful. Only then did she realize her lapse in manners—she had not so much as commented on the soup before eagerly drinking more.

She stole a guilty glance at Rollin across the table, relieved to see he hadn’t noticed. She quickly said, “This fish soup is truly delicious, I really like it!” and brought the spoon to her lips again.

In truth, Rollin had been watching her from the moment she picked up her spoon. Poor Victoria thought he hadn’t noticed her breach of etiquette. Though confident in his soup, he had worried it might not suit her taste. Seeing her go back for seconds, he was finally at ease.

Hearing her praise, he replied with a modest smile, “I’m glad you enjoy it. I haven’t made fish soup in quite some time and was worried it wouldn’t suit your taste. Try the meat porridge as well—it’s made from the tenderloin of the Redhorn Sheep.” He had put much thought into these dishes, not only as a meal but as an unspoken apology for his earlier harsh words.

As expected, the porridge also won Victoria’s high praise. The three—two people and a donkey—soon fell into silent enjoyment of the meal.

“Miss Victoria…”

“Rollin…”

“Oh, ladies first—you go ahead.” After eating for a while, both stopped and spoke at once, each wanting to break the silence. They had chosen the same moment, resulting in a gentle collision of intentions.

Victoria smiled sheepishly. “Rollin, you can just call me by my name from now on; no need for ‘Miss Victoria.’ Isn’t that a bit cumbersome?”

“Alright then—Victoria.” Rollin replied with casual ease, but inwardly he was delighted. Her invitation to use her given name rather than a formal title showed that she no longer saw him as a stranger.

Victoria went on, “By the way, Rollin, if I remember correctly, when we met a year ago, you had only just become a second-level mage. What brings you here so suddenly? Did you come with senior students from the academy, or did you join one of the teams entering at the mountain pass?” In her mind, with Rollin’s abilities, he must have come with others—otherwise, he’d never have survived the journey through these monster-infested mountains.

“Victoria, I only entered the Maya Mountains after advancing to third-level mage. At first, I did join a team, but we got separated, and I ended up here on my own.” As he spoke, Rollin couldn’t help but recall Menley, Rand, and the ill-fated Captain Bob.

“You’re a third-level mage already?” Victoria was astonished. Rollin’s progress nearly matched her own, which had only come under immense family pressure—yet he had achieved the same.

Rollin nodded, pleased to have surprised the genius Victoria with his rapid advancement.

“Rollin, even as a third-level mage, coming to the Maya Mountains for training is risky. See, your team got separated, and now you’re alone in these perilous mountains—it’s dangerous,” Victoria warned kindly.

She clearly didn’t know the true strength of his necromancy, but Rollin gave her a grateful look. “I came here not just for training, but mainly to find a way to cure my younger brother’s leg ailment.”

“You have a younger brother? Did you find a cure for him?” Victoria was surprised—Rollin had risked so much for his brother. Clearly, his love for his sibling was no less than her own.

Rollin nodded happily. “Yes, I found it. To be honest, when I said I had business in the cave, it was for this reason. The cave leads to an ancient ruin. Earlier, when you didn’t find me in the cave, I was inside the ruins. For certain reasons, I can’t tell you more about what happened there—my apologies.”

“I see. Congratulations, then!” Victoria nodded. On the vast and ancient continent of Aragon, in every era great warriors had left behind their legacies for those who came after. It was not uncommon for such powerful figures to create mysterious places of inheritance.

The two ate and talked, their meal stretching to nearly two hours as they finished off the two hefty magical beasts. Of course, Little Black’s enormous appetite accounted for more than eighty percent of the consumption.

“Rollin, I think my training in the Maya Mountains is about done. I’m planning to return to Port Academy. What about you?” Victoria asked.

“I’ve already found the cure for my brother, so there’s no reason to stay. I’ll return to the academy as well,” Rollin replied.

“Then let’s go together. It’ll be good to have company on the road.” Victoria hesitated only a moment before suggesting it.

Rollin understood her meaning—she was being considerate of his pride. As a fifth-level mage, she hardly needed a third-level mage like him for protection. She simply wanted to look after him on the journey. Although he was confident he could travel alone, the prospect of traveling with such a beautiful companion was hardly something to refuse. He agreed at once.

Victoria then cast an ice spell to unseal the cave entrance, and the two of them, along with the donkey, stepped out into the open.

At that moment, a distant rumble sounded. Rollin looked up, a peculiar expression on his face. The true owners of the cave—the Three-Headed Mighty Bears—had returned. Seeing two people and a donkey emerge from their den, the bears roared with fury. Since these intruders had arrived, their bad luck had only mounted. First, two dim-witted Wind Wolves had provoked them, then their good neighbors, the Greenwing Wasps, had chased them far from home. They had been too afraid to return, but the lure of wasp honey had eventually drawn them back after two days.

“This is bad—those are both fifth-level magical beasts. This could be trouble. Rollin, get on Little Black and leave now! I’ll hold them off,” Victoria said, her body sheathed in a gleaming suit of ice armor.

But at that moment, Rollin—just a third-level mage—grinned and said, “Victoria, I don’t think we need to make this so complicated. Leave these bumbling bears to me!”