Gauss and Alia chatted a bit more in the woods.
It wasn't just Gauss who was curious about the changes Alia had undergone after breaking through—Alia was just as curious about him.
Compared to a few days ago, Gauss didn't look all that different at first glance, but something about him had changed. He carried himself with a calm, unhurried ease, like everything was under control.
They walked out of the garden.
The guards saluted. One of them couldn't help sneaking a few extra looks—he felt like Gauss's companion looked different somehow. But that clearly wasn't his business, so he quickly looked away.
They mounted their rides.
Alia and Gauss left the inner city.
Once they reached the outer city, Alia let Raven Echo and Silver Wolf Ulfen out to stretch their legs.
After Alia's class change, her two contracted animal companions had both improved significantly—and their bond with her felt closer too.
In their normal state, they could now "fold" into her body as skin-pattern markings.
And that brought an enormous boost.
Her Wildshape no longer only allowed her to transform into ordinary animals—she could also transform into the species forms of her contracted creatures.
That was a clear jump in combat power.
Silver Wolf Ulfen had grown even bigger now, easily capable of carrying several adults.
Its shoulder height was already above an adult human. Two rows of teeth gleamed like daggers, and beneath its fur were steel-hard muscles—making it brutally mobile and aggressive.
Just the sight of it being released made the surrounding crowd instinctively back away several meters.
And that was with Gauss, a famous figure, standing right there. If he weren't, panic probably would've broken out and the civilians would've scattered.
"Ulfen's getting stronger and stronger," Gauss said, patting its powerful foreleg—muscle like steel wrapped around thick, solid bone.
"Awooo—" Ulfen wagged its tail.
Raven Echo landed on its head.
Echo hadn't changed as much in size—though it had grown about a notch bigger—but its quality had clearly improved.
When it spread its black feathers, each one flashed with a metallic sheen in the sunlight, sharp as a blade. Its beak was wrapped in a thin, razor-like layer of energy.
"Echo's got mana now? Nice. Very nice." Gauss took one look and saw through it, nodding in approval.
"Nice. Very nice," Echo echoed.
Its diction was crisp—proof it had gotten smarter.
Which made sense: being able to wield mana usually required a decent level of intelligence.
Back at their lodging in Longflute Fortress, the other three had already received word from the crows and returned.
All three were shocked by the changes—especially Alia's. After hearing what she'd been through, they were both astonished and genuinely happy for her.
Turning more "elflike" meant stronger talent and… a longer lifespan.
Elves, like dragons, were famous long-lived races.
And unlike pure-blood elves, Alia likely still retained the human side's adaptability and learning ability.
…
"Goodbye, Teacher."
At the city gate, Abby and her father York came to see Gauss's party off.
More civilians showed up on their own, too.
The scene was packed—people everywhere. Heads poked out from shops and houses along the street. You couldn't even count them.
"All right. Head back," Gauss said.
He swung himself up onto the back of Red Drake Hephaestus.
Hephaestus gave a light flap of its wings—and another wave of awestruck gasps rippled through the crowd.
"It really is a red dragon!"
"It's huge!"
"It could swallow me in one bite!"
"I've seen a dragon!"
"I heard this one's still a juvenile—when it's grown, it'll be even bigger!"
Most civilians didn't truly understand what "professional strength" meant.
But dragons were different.
They were familiar "characters" from stories—sometimes an evil dragon leading tens of thousands of monsters to sack cities, sometimes a noble mentor guiding heroes.
Good or evil, dragons shared one truth: they were powerful.
Powerful beyond anything ordinary humans could compare to.
Now, seeing one with their own eyes—something many of them would only experience once in their entire lives—made those legends feel real.
The dragon squatted there, head held high, terrifying and majestic, mysterious and noble.
With every breath, hot sulfurous steam puffed from its nostrils, filling the street with a faint scorched scent.
Anyone who met its gaze felt their heart race and their skin heat up.
It was beautiful. And terrifyingly strong.
And it was only a juvenile.
The street swelled with emotions—fear of a giant beast, worship, longing, envy—everything converging in the center.
Gauss lightly patted Hephaestus's neck, and the dragon slowly beat its wings and rose into the air.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced back at the street.
Paleus and several of his companions were standing there.
In the crowd, Gauss even spotted that tiefling boy and his friends—waving wildly, clearly having learned who he really was.
He lifted a hand in farewell, then guided Hephaestus upward.
"The dragon knight is leaving!"
"I've decided—I'm becoming an adventurer too! I'm gonna ride a dragon!"
"Fier—if I told you the big shot who helped me before was that dragon knight, would you believe me?"
"I believe you."
"Fier, don't listen to Dray talk nonsense. How could that be true?"
"Look—he saw me! He's turning back and waving!"
"Huh?!"
Soon the red dragon vanished into the sky.
Gauss left Longflute City behind, but the legends about him would keep spreading.
…
"Whoosh!"
Hephaestus beat its wings, generating a powerful thrust that launched it forward.
Hephaestus's flight wasn't purely physical wing power. It felt more like magic.
But everyone knew dragon beasts couldn't cast spells—Hephaestus was only barely "getting started," nowhere near capable of learning something like Flight.
So this had to be a bloodline talent—something carved into its very nature.
Gauss took in the world below.
If Longflute City had one silver lining, it was this: Hephaestus no longer needed to be hidden.
Since people already knew about it, Gauss might as well ride it openly as a normal mount.
"Control your speed," he said, giving Hephaestus's neck a light pat and sending the intent through their link.
Hephaestus had been cooped up for days. Ever since Gauss's battle with the dragon priestess, it hadn't been allowed out.
It couldn't quite contain its excitement.
But for long-distance travel, steady pace mattered. Full-speed bursts would exhaust even a dragon.
Gauss's gaze shifted to the distant outline of the snowy mountains.
By the logic of "a mountain looks close until you try to reach it," it was still far.
He estimated several more days of flying.
Two days later, at dusk—
Gauss guided Hephaestus down into a small town, triggering another wave of shocked cries.
One of the gate guards recognized him almost immediately.
In the past few days, the name "Crimson Dragon Knight Gauss" had spread like wildfire across villages, towns, and cities nearby.
Some people were envious. Some were skeptical.
But when a beautiful red dragon descended from the sky with a human rider, the guards understood: the rumors were real.
"Welcome, Crimson Dragon Knight Gauss."
The guard at the checkpoint was so excited his face flushed red.
The townspeople who'd witnessed the landing rushed over, desperate to see the dragon up close.
Gauss hurriedly dismissed Hephaestus again.
The guards did a token "inspection," then waved them through.
"Dragon Knight Gauss is here!"
"The dragon knight is here!"
Children ran through the streets shouting the news.
It was an ordinary little town, but to people living the same routine day after day, Gauss's arrival was huge.
Gauss forced a slightly stiff smile, answering the enthusiastic calls around him.
He'd need to be more careful about his public impact.
He wasn't a "true" dragon knight—those were usually legendary human powerhouses partnered with full-grown dragons, top-tier beings.
Gauss wasn't there yet. Hephaestus was a juvenile drake.
Calling him a "youth edition dragon knight" would already be generous.
But the title had spread. He was young, with immense potential.
And his feats were real: an elite-tier professional who'd taken down a transcendent opponent.
As caravans spread the story and newspapers and gossip carried it onward, his reputation would only keep growing.
Gauss looked at the town bubbling with excitement and realized something clearly:
The nameless life was gone.
A new phase had begun.
His party would rise in fame—earning admiration, but also drawing more predators and facing more dangerous enemies.
Fame was a double-edged sword.
The town was small.
After a quick look around, they entered the only tavern in town: The Big Horn.
Inside, nearly every pair of eyes snapped to Gauss.
Whispers quieted. Even the bartender's rag slowed mid-wipe.
"That's him… the one from the stories…" someone murmured.
"I thought it was just kids exaggerating."
"No way—it's him. Black hair, that presence… and those companions look exactly like the ballads."
"The black-haired dragon-riding hero, the terrifying serpentfolk, the giant woman…"
"I heard he held off a whole Dragon Cult army outside Longflute City."
"He looks just like a normal guy."
Gauss ignored the talk, went to the bar, and ordered drinks, hot food, and rooms.
It was getting colder the closer they got to the mountains, and winter was creeping in fast.
"Hah—"
He exhaled a puff of warm breath.
They were all tough enough not to fear normal cold, but discomfort still existed.
Rest during travel was non-negotiable.
That was why he'd landed in a town at all.
Later, lying in his tavern room, Gauss stared out the window at the night sky.
He wasn't drunk on praise.
He remembered Playaos's warning from the night before they left:
"Be careful. The Dragon Cult is sick with obsession."
Gauss's thoughts churned.
The cult couldn't be wiped out overnight. Their members and eyes were scattered everywhere, like rot in wood.
Fortunately, their top brass didn't usually camp near populated areas. They preferred hidden bases or monster lands.
Mobilizing high-end strength to hunt him wouldn't be simple.
And if Cecilia showed up again right now… he might not win, but he could escape.
He wasn't rushing to pick a fight. He needed time.
Give him a few years—once he climbed higher, these problems would collapse.
The next morning, Gauss was up early.
"How's it look?" he asked over breakfast.
Last night, Echo and its little crow squad had already been deployed as ears and eyes.
Echo, now mana-capable after Alia's breakthrough, could act as a relay hub—collecting and organizing information.
"Nothing unusual in town," Alia said.
"Just people talking about us."
"A local adventuring party wants to challenge you in the gate plaza this morning—trying to make a name for themselves."
"Also, the river east of town has more monsters lately. A few people have died in the past few days, so locals have stopped going there."
…
So much for peace.
They stepped out of the tavern and into the town square.
Sure enough, an adventuring party was waiting.
"Gauss," their leader—an armored warrior—stepped forward, voice loud and confident. "I'm Harold of Splitrock. We've heard your deeds and we admire you. We only ask for a friendly spar—so we can witness the strength of a man who rides a red dragon!"
The crowd stirred, excited.
Albena frowned.
This would keep happening now—people trying to piggyback off Gauss's reputation. Even losing could become a "bragging credential" if they lasted a few moves.
Before Gauss had to answer, Albena stepped forward like a moving wall.
"If you want to challenge Sir Gauss, beat me first."
She raised her massive axe.
"And you—come all at once."
"But let's be clear: I don't hold back. We'll sign a death waiver first."
Her aura hit them like a hammer.
The challengers' faces changed instantly—breathing tight, muscles rigid.
That wasn't a bluff. If she swung, heads would roll.
"…S-sorry. We… we didn't mean to disturb you."
Harold swallowed hard and stepped back.
Albena snorted.
"Then we're done here."
The crowd made space, and Gauss's party walked out without breaking stride.
Serandur muttered, "You scared them half to death."
"It was necessary," Albena replied flatly. "If anyone can demand a duel anytime, we'll never get anything done."
Gauss didn't comment. His eyes drifted toward the eastern river.
Closer to the snow mountains, the world's "weirdness" was starting to show.
He inhaled.
Somewhere out there, something smelled wrong.