The morning after their revelation at the lake, the inn room felt different. It was no longer a simple refuge for two fugitives, but the first headquarters of an unlikely alliance. Paul watched Hilda as she dressed, fascinated. There was no trace of the awkward nobility from the first morning. Now she moved with a purpose, a determination that accented her beauty in an unexpected way.

“So…” he began, breaking the comfortable silence. “Last night, at the lake, I saw something. Some kind of aura around you. I’m no expert, but I’ve seen mages before, and it looked a lot like earth magic. Latent magic, I think.”

“A fairly accurate description of my current confusion,” she replied, fastening her traveling dress, now clean and mended. “What do we do now with this… mystery?”

“Now,” he said, standing up, his own confusion replaced by a new resolve, “we find out how far you can go. We make this official. And we buy you new clothes. You can’t go around fighting wolves in a silk dress. It tears too easily.”

Hilda blushed but nodded.

“And after that, we get you a manual. To be a mage, you need two things: clothes that don’t rip if you trip, and a book that teaches you not to blow everything up.”

The first stop was an adventurer’s supply store. The place smelled of tanned leather and polished metal. The shopkeeper, a stout man with an eyepatch, eyed them curiously.

“What can I get for you? New armor, Greyrat? Or are you here to sell that scrap metal you’re wearing?”

“Very funny, Balthus,” Paul retorted. “I’m shopping today. The lady needs a full outfit. Something sturdy, practical, and easy to move in.”

Hilda looked in horror at the garments Paul began to select.

“Pants? Leather ones? I’ve never worn pants in my life. It’s… indecorous. No one in my house would ever permit such a thing.”

“Welcome to freedom, my lady,” Paul replied with a grin, handing her a pair. “They let you run faster and kick ass more easily. Two activities you’ll find very useful in your new life. Besides, your house isn’t here to give you orders, is it?”

The argument in the dressing room was a spectacle in itself.

“Paul, this is too tight! You can see everything!”

“That’s the point! It’s called ‘functionality.’ This way you don’t get tangled in branches.”

“I feel like an animal is hugging my legs!”

“You’ll get used to it!”

When Hilda finally emerged, the shopkeeper Balthus let out an appreciative whistle. Paul’s breath caught in his throat. She wore fitted yet flexible leather pants, a durable linen shirt, sturdy boots, and a hooded traveling cloak. The adventurer’s gear, instead of diminishing her elegance, accentuated the strength of her figure in a new and devastating way.

“Well,” Paul said, his voice a bit hoarse. “You’ll definitely be kicking ass in style.”

Their next stop was the Adventurers’ Guild. The atmosphere was different from the day before. The stares were no longer of hostility, but of respectful curiosity. They approached the bar, where Kaelen was looking over some accounts.

“Kaelen. We’re back.”

The guild master looked up, his eyes moving from Paul to Hilda, lingering on her new attire.

“Two days in a row, Greyrat. That’s a new record for you. What’s this one got that the other hundred didn’t?”

Paul glanced at Hilda, who blushed but held his gaze. A genuine smile, with no trace of his usual arrogance, spread across his face.

“She’s the one, Kaelen. She just is.”

Kaelen let out a grunt that sounded strangely like a choked laugh.

“Love has made you stupid. What do you want?”

“We want to register an adventuring party,” Paul said. “And we need a book. A magic one. Basic level. You got anything for earth magic?”

The guild master thumbed toward a dusty shelf in the corner.

“Check over there. And bring me the registration form.”

While Hilda explored the shelf, Paul argued with Kaelen over the party’s name.

“How about ‘The Celestial Pecs’?”

Kaelen gave him a look of such disdain that Paul decided to change tactics.

“Fine, fine. ‘The Red Fury and Her Swordsman Friend’?”

“Sounds like you’re her pet, Greyrat.”

When Hilda returned with a thin volume titled Tome of Elemental Magic: Earth Fundamentals, Paul had already filled out the form.

“I called it ‘The Rose and the Sword’,” he said, showing it to her.

Hilda read the name and a smile of approval lit up her face.

“It’s perfect.”

As Kaelen stamped their registration, a conversation from a nearby table reached their ears.

“Did you hear the latest? A group of knights from House Boreas is sweeping the region. Asking around in every town.”

“Yeah, they say they’re looking for a noble girl who ran off. Lord Philip’s fiancée. The reward is a fortune.”

Hilda froze on the spot. Her hand instinctively clutched Paul’s arm. He felt her tension and wrapped an arm around her waist in a protective gesture.

“You okay?” he whispered in her ear.

She took a second to answer. Then, to Paul’s surprise, a small, strange smile formed on her lips. A smile not of fear, but of pure, vibrant adrenaline.

“Yes…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, but not from dread. “It’s stupid, but… now it feels like a real adventure.”

Paul looked at her and saw in her gray eyes not a frightened lady, but a partner who had just accepted the first great challenge of her new life. He smiled.

“Then let’s give them an adventure they won’t forget.”

They found a secluded clearing on the outskirts of town for their first lesson. The morning sun was warm, and the air smelled of pine and damp earth. Paul opened the book to the first page.

“Alright, lesson one: Earth Bullet. Sounds exciting, right? The book says: ‘Oh, earth, gather and strike, Earth Bullet!’ You have to feel the mana, channel it to your hands, and visualize the damp earth compacting.”

Hilda closed her eyes, her face a mask of concentration. She held out her hands and recited the chant. Nothing happened.

“I don’t feel anything,” she said, frustrated.

“Relax,” Paul said, coming up behind her and placing his hands over hers. “Don’t force it. Try to invite the magic, not command it. Remember that feeling at the lake, when the earth seemed to respond to you.”

She took a deep breath. She tried again. This time, a small clod of dirt, the size of a marble, clumsily lifted from the ground and crumbled into dust.

“Something happened!” she exclaimed, excited.

“Good! That’s a spark! Now give it fuel! Again! With more intent!”

Hilda focused with all her might. She visualized the earth, the water, the feeling of mud. She poured all her mana, all her will, into the spell. The result was… unexpected.

Instead of a small ball, a massive, violent geyser of liquid mud shot out of the ground and hit Paul square in the face.

The silence that followed was absolute. Paul stood there, motionless, dripping mud from head to toe. A blade of grass hung from his nose. He slowly wiped the mud from his eyes and looked at Hilda.

Hilda brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She stared at him for a second. And then, she burst out laughing. It was a genuine, loud, irrepressible laugh. She laughed so hard she had to lean against a tree to keep from falling over.

Paul watched her. And despite being covered in mud, he couldn’t help but smile.

Yeah, he thought, as mud dripped from his chin. She is definitely the one.

After Paul cleaned himself up in the nearby river, they tried again. This time, guided by the vision of her power, he was more specific.

“Don’t think about mud, Hilda. The book’s a guide, not a law. Your power is dry earth, rock. Visualize the stones beneath your feet, compacting, fusing together.”

She tried, reciting the chant again. This time, it worked. A perfectly compacted sphere of earth, the size of her fist, formed in the palm of her hand. It hummed with energy. She stared at it as if it were the most precious jewel in the world.

“I… I did it…”

“Throw it!” Paul urged her.

She hurled the ball with a cry of euphoria. It smashed against a tree with a dull thud that made the wood vibrate. Hilda laughed, a sound of pure triumph. She jumped up and hugged Paul.

“I did it! I’m a mage!”

“Of course you are,” he said, laughing with her. “And this is just the beginning.”

Buoyed by their success, they moved on to the next spell: Earth Wall. This one proved to be more difficult.

“‘Oh, earth, rise and protect, Earth Wall!'” she recited.

A small mound of dirt rose from the ground before crumbling.

“It’s useless,” she said in frustration after several attempts. “I can’t visualize a barrier.”

Paul observed her, his ability giving him insight into her mental block.

“You’re not thinking about protecting. You’re thinking about building, like it’s an architecture lesson. A wall isn’t just a barrier, Hilda. It’s a statement. It’s telling the entire world: ‘you shall not pass’.”

He stepped closer to her, his gaze intense.

“Use that noble stubbornness of yours. That part of you that refused to get married. That part that stood up to the guild master. Put that will into the spell. Don’t build a wall. Impose your will on the earth.”

His words resonated with her. She closed her eyes. She didn’t think about rocks or dirt. She thought of her father, of Philip, of the gilded cage. She thought of her defiance. She opened her eyes, her gaze burning with a new determination.

“Oh, earth, rise and protect, Earth Wall!”

With a low rumble, a wall of solid, compact earth, over three feet high, erupted from the ground in front of her. It wasn’t perfect. It was tilted and had cracks. But it was real. It was hers.

She stared at the wall she had created, then at Paul. Her eyes shone with a new kind of power and a gratitude so deep it left her speechless.

Paul met her gaze, a proud smile on his face. Their partnership had just entered a new phase. The path to making Hilda a powerful mage would be long and dirty. And Paul loved the idea.