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Ryan fell silent, the faintest hint of a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Scarlette's enigmatic response lingered in his mind. He didn't push the matter further; he already knew from experience that attempting to decode her cryptic remarks only left him with more questions than answers.
Scarlette was, in every sense, a riddle wrapped in silence—someone whose words always held layered meanings he could never fully grasp.
"…Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand it. No matter how much I explained, it will only perplex you even more."
Her voice echoed in his memory, cool and steady, as if it had been spoken only moments ago. And though Ryan tried to decipher what she truly meant, the meaning only slipped further from his reach.
Truly, an enigma, he thought quietly. A person like a closed book, sealed shut and nearly impossible to read.
"We're almost there. Get ready."
Her voice snapped him back to reality. Ryan blinked and shifted forward in the wagon, following her gaze. Through the gentle sway of the carriage and the rays of morning light breaking through the clouds, a distant gate came into view—the entrance to Mirken City, their first major stop before continuing toward Fordel Village.
A surge of anticipation welled inside him. It was his first time visiting this part of the Silveria Empire.
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Time passed, and soon enough, they reached the outskirts of Mirken City—a modest yet bustling trade city that sat along one of the Empire's primary midland routes. Unlike the grand cities of the central region, Mirken bore a humbler charm. The city walls were well-maintained but not imposing, built for practicality rather than intimidation. Merchants, travelers, farmers, and adventurers formed an ever-moving stream toward the entrance.
Despite its modest size, Mirken played a pivotal economic role in this region of the Silveria Empire. Positioned at the crossroads between agricultural villages and larger commercial hubs, it served as a gathering point for goods, information, and travelers. Stalls were situated even right outside the gate, offering fresh produce, bundles of herbs, weapons crafted by local blacksmiths, and fabrics dyed in muted earth tones.
Overseeing these lands was the House of Everette, a Viscount household entrusted by the Empire to govern Mirken Territory. Ryan didn't know the details of the noble family, but he had heard the name a few times—mostly in passing when merchants discussed trade taxes or the city's efficient security. Scarlette, meanwhile, seemed indifferent to the topic entirely, though he suspected she already knew far more about this territory than she let on.
For now, their priority was clear: rest. Their journey to Fordel Village would be long, especially with Ryan still recuperating, and Mirken was the best place to settle temporarily.
As expected, the moment their wagon approached the entrance gate, one of the city guards stepped forward and raised a hand to halt them. The man wore standard guard attire—chainmail, a leather vest adorned with the crest of Mirken, and a spear strapped to his back. His eyes scanned the wagon out of habit, prepared to assess the travelers.
But the instant Scarlette lowered her hood, the guard stiffened.
Her crimson hair spilled down, vivid even in the muted daylight, and her eyes—though half concealed by a veil—were unmistakable. There was only one person in the Silveria Empire with such features, one whose reputation extended far beyond any city wall.
The guard's reaction was immediate. His breath hitched, his posture shifted, and his expression flickered between awe and disbelief.
Scarlette, unsurprised by this reaction, calmly retrieved her identification card. She then extended a hand toward Ryan, wordlessly requesting his. Once she had both cards, she handed them over with the same composed efficiency she always carried.
"No special treatment," she said, her voice cool yet soft. "Follow the usual protocol. Those who arrived before us should be processed first. We can wait."
The guard blinked rapidly, snapped out of his awestruck state, and straightened his posture. Her words—simple as they were—seemed to shake him from the reverie of realizing who stood before him. He saluted with a sharp motion, admiration in his eyes.
Many individuals with her rank and fame would have demanded priority or used their status to bypass the line entirely. But Scarlette Overland was not like them.
To the guard, her behavior represented something rare: someone powerful who chose not to stand above others.
Her reputation had long reached even small cities like Mirken. She was the only SSS-Rank Adventurer in the entire Silveria Empire, respected—and feared—not only for her unmatched strength but for her unbending principles. Even the nobles whispered her name, aware of her connections with those who held true authority. The Emperor. The Crown Prince. And the revered Marquis. Rumors swirled endlessly, though none dared trouble her.
The guard bowed slightly, took their cards with hurried hands, and retreated back toward the gatehouse to begin processing.
Ryan watched everything unfold with quiet amazement. Once the guard was gone, he scooted over and sat beside Scarlette at the front of the wagon.
"You're really well-known around here too," he remarked. "I mean… he recognized you instantly. At this rate, I won't be surprised if every corner of the Empire knows your face."
Scarlette tilted her head faintly, acknowledging his words. Her expression remained calm—emotionless, even—but her voice held a gentle warmth.
"It's expected," she replied. "I am, after all, the only adventurer who has achieved SSS-Rank. Naturally, the guild acknowledges it, as do the nobles and the royal family. Not all of them, of course," she added with a soft snort. "But at the very least, the Imperial Faction and half of the Aristocratic Faction recognize my existence."
Ryan blinked.
Wow… that might be the longest sentence she's said since we left the capital.
He tried to hide his amusement but failed slightly.
As he pieced together the implications of what she just told him, something clicked in his mind—something he hadn't expected.
"You know quite a lot about the noble society," he observed. "I never imagined you'd be familiar with noble factions and inner politics. Have you been invited to banquets before? Or gatherings with nobles?"
Scarlette let out a faint snort, the sound carrying both amusement and annoyance.
"I received an invitation once," she admitted. "A royal banquet hosted by the Emperor himself."
Ryan's eyes widened. "You— Wait, seriously?! The Emperor of Silveria invited you?"
"Yes," she replied simply, as though it were an everyday occurrence. "I wasn't obligated to accept, but since it was the first time and merely a matter of formality, I attended."
He stared at her in open disbelief.
It was one thing to hear rumors about her connections but hearing it from Scarlette herself—and in such a casual tone—made the reality sink deeper.
Scarlette chuckled quietly upon seeing his expression, her cold voice softened by amusement.
"Hm. I just happened to save his life before and as a repayment, the Emperor wanted to take me under his wing with the reason that I still need some protection even though I'm strong enough to protect myself, but the Emperor's reasons are quite understandable."
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