I can evolve everything

Half an hour later, in a meeting room inside the fortress.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, dispelling the chill.

Besides Warren, a middle-aged clerk with a goatee sat at the table.

After Karen recounted everything that had happened in Ironwood Town—the necromancer Mars, Harold's fall from grace, and the wandering Baron—the entire conference room fell into a brief silence.

The only sound was the scratching of the clerk's pen on the paper.

"...That's the situation."

Karen finished her cup of hot tea and let out a long sigh.

"Harold is guilty, but he's dead. The necromancer is dead, but the clues behind him... like how he managed to infiltrate the Knights' ranks for three years, are things you'll need to investigate."

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged clerk looked up and stared at Karen with a grave expression.

"This is indeed a serious oversight. A necromancer has established a stronghold in a border town, and even corrupted a sheriff... This is practically a provocation against the Knights of the North." He closed his notebook. "I will report this to the Knights' High Council immediately. As for Ironwood Town, we will immediately send a new sheriff to take over."

At this point, the clerk glanced at Karen, his tone becoming somewhat tentative.

"Lord Karen, now that you're back...would you consider rejoining the ranks? The barbarians and monsters in the north have been growing increasingly restless lately, and our fortress is in dire need of a legendary knight like yourself."

Valen, standing next to Karen, also looked at her expectantly.

Karen shook her head, quite naturally rejecting the suggestion.

"No. My old bones can't take that kind of intense exertion anymore. Besides..."

He glanced at Ryan and Ella, who were sitting quietly in the corner listening.

"I have more important things to do. Teaching newcomers and passing on my skills is perhaps more meaningful than me going out and slaying a few monsters myself."

"So you've only come to report on the situation?" Warren asked, somewhat disappointed.

"It's also a way of showing them around."

Karen pointed at Ryan.

"These two little ones have been in the greenhouse for too long. Although they've seen blood, they've never experienced real war. I want them to stay here for a while and experience what the real North is like."

"By the way..." Karen's eyes sharpened, "If possible, I'd like them to take on a few simple cleanup tasks to practice their skills."

Valen paused for a moment, then laughed.

"If that's the requirement, then it's too easy. The scouts on the outskirts are short-handed right now. Although they won't be assigned dangerous missions, they can easily clean up any stray dire wolves and low-level monsters that have escaped."

He stood up and made a move towards Ryan and Ellar.

"Welcome to the Northern Fortress. Since you were brought by Karen, don't act like guests."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Night falls.

The fortress did not fall asleep in the darkness; instead, it became even more noisy.

The sounds of patrols could be heard from time to time nearby, while further away, the roars of monsters could be faintly heard in the wind.

Raine was assigned to a stone house located on the flank of the barracks.

Although it was small, with only a hard bed and a small stove, it was dry and warm.

Ella lives next door.

Raine sat on the edge of the bed, without turning on the light. By the light of the fire from the watchtower outside the window, he took out the gray sphere that he always kept close to his body.

He is now in the largest military fortress in the entire kingdom, where the most complete supplies are available.

"Mithril powder... I should be able to buy it if I ask at the quartermaster tomorrow."

Renn was making plans in his mind.

"As for the [War Wolf King's Fang]..."

He recalled what Valen had just mentioned—cleaning up any fish that slipped through the net on the periphery.

With good luck, or with bad luck, it's not impossible to encounter a lone dire wolf king along this vast border.

After all, this is a northern fortress.

It is the place closest to the border.

Raine put the sphere away, took off his leather armor, and revealed his well-developed muscles, which looked quite muscular after practicing breathing techniques.

He sat cross-legged on the bed and began meditating according to the rhythm of the Black Rock Breathing Method.

breathe--

Although he has a cheat system that helps him learn and evolve his breathing techniques, since he started learning, Renn still practices his breathing techniques on his own to solidify his foundation.

As the heart pumps, streams of heat begin to spread throughout the body.

Although the evolution of the [Skeletal] stage is still in progress, he can vaguely sense that his bones are becoming harder and harder.

It's like every bone in the body is being transformed into steel.

"strength……"

Renn clenched his fist, feeling the power in his palm.

Outside the window, the sound of bugles rang out.

That was the signal for the night patrol to set off.

Raine closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

That night, he slept more soundly than anywhere else.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In the following days, the Knights did not immediately assign tasks to Rein and Ella as Karen had previously stated, and the next two weeks passed quite peacefully.

The northern fortress has no seasons, only long winters and even colder winters.

Life here is like a frozen, hardened loaf of butter bread—dry, rough, yet surprisingly delicious.

Renn quickly adapted to this rhythm. Every morning, the horn would pull everyone out of their sleep on time.

Breakfast here is usually a bowl of thick soup with minced meat, served with an oat biscuit.

"If I eat too much of this, I feel like stones are growing in my stomach."

Ella sat across from the long wooden table, stirring the bowl of paste with a spoon.

As a half-elf, her taste buds were clearly not yet developed enough to accept this kind of food.

"Eat it."

Without looking up, Ryan stuffed the last bit of softened wheat cake into his mouth and chewed slowly.

"Here, heat is life. Don't think about the taste; think about how it will give you more power when you swing your sword."

He put down the wooden spoon and wiped his mouth.

"Also, don't waste it."

Ella sighed, closed her eyes, held her breath, and gulped down the soup in one go.

During the past two weeks, in addition to basic physical training and meditation, Renn spent a lot of time observing the fortress.

It was not just a fortress, but a completely self-sufficient fortified city.

The fortress has a sophisticated ecosystem inside.

The outermost layer is the gray zone, which is home to a large number of auxiliary soldiers, blacksmiths, and leatherworkers, making it a gathering place for all kinds of logistics personnel.

Further in is the Iron Zone, the garrison of the regular army.

At the heart of the complex is Blackrock Tower, the command center and the knights' quarters, which is also where Rein and his men are currently staying.

The wind and snow subsided slightly that day.

Valen—the young knight who had greeted them on the first day—led Rein and Ella on the road to the fortress market.