Val had barely a moment to catch his breath when he noticed a figure watching him from the edge of the clearing.

A young man, dressed in clothes that basically screamed luxury stood there, unblinkingly looking at Val with surprise and a hint of respect.

The young man had been observing Val's fight against the Icefang Lynx from a safe distance. Seeing him slaying it all by himself, his eyes lit up. "He could be the solution to my predicament. I need to give it my all to rope him in," he muttered to himself as he approached Val.

'Alfred?'

Val squinted as he recognized the young man as Alfred. This young man from the Montmorency family had left a very strong first impression in his mind. He couldn't not possibly recognize him.

'I can sense that he doesn't mean me any harm, but it's better to be safe than sorry.'

Val's sixth sense, which would usually tingle at the presence of potential danger, was unusually quiet around Alfred. This indicated that Alfred had no ill intentions toward him. However, as a precaution, Val didn't store his sword in his pocket dimension but held it loosely by his side, ready to defend himself if need be.

"Hello there," Alfred greeted him. "That was quite a spectacle you put up against the Icefang Lynx."

Nonchalant, Val simply shrugged, "I did what I had to. I have to pass my trial, after all."

A nod from Alfred affirmed his understanding. "Your skills are rather impressive. I have a proposition for you."

The word 'proposition' drew Val's curiosity. His brows furrowed in contemplation as he returned the question. "What kind of proposition?"

"My trial by fire involves taking down a Direwolf. Just for your information, it is a level 30 beast that's usually accompanied by a group of forest wolves. It's a daunting task, one I fear I cannot complete alone. However, if you were to assist me, I believe it might be feasible. Of course, you would be compensated for your help," Alfred explained, his eyes gauging Val's reaction.

Val's expression remained unchanging, but a flurry of thoughts filled his mind as he pieced together Alfred's situation.

It was likely that Alfred was assigned such an impossible challenge because he had offended Marshall. Marshall wanted Alfred to fail his trial by fire so he abused his authority to bully him. It was clear that he didn't want to see Alfred getting into the Northern Frontier.

As Val thought of this, he realized that getting on the bad side of someone like Marshall would be detrimental to his own journey. After all, Marshall was such a petty man that he wouldn't hesitate to exploit his authority to punish a young man half his age.

At the same time, part of Val couldn't help but think that Alfred was merely reaping what he had sowed. It was important to respect everyone, regardless of their position or abilities, something Alfred had seemingly overlooked, which was why he was being punished.

"How much exactly will you pay me if I help you with your trial?" Val asked, keeping his eyes on Alfred.

"For each member of the wolf pack you fell, you'll receive 100 gold coins. If you manage to bring down the Alpha Wolf, three thousand gold coins are yours." Alfred replied as a confident smile curled at the corners of his lips.

Val's mind spun like a well-oiled machine, meticulously weighing the potential risks and rewards of Alfred's proposition. 

The Direwolf, a level 30 beast, was undoubtedly a formidable foe, especially because it had a group of beasts guarding it at all times. They were all strong enough to easily tear through lowest-level bloodline users like a storm through a field of wheat.

Val, with his hidden trump card - his Blood Devil bloodline - could certainly deal with them if he went all out and threw caution to the wind, but this was a card he preferred to keep close to his chest.

It's because individuals with multiple bloodlines were a rarity in this world.

They were beacons, attracting both awe and avarice. Their unique abilities often made them targets for those seeking power, turning their gift into a curse. 

Val had no desire to be caught in such a net.

Thus, unless absolutely necessary, he wasn't going to flaunt his uniqueness to the world.

However, even without relying on his Blood Devil bloodline, Val knew the task wasn't entirely impossible.

The Direwolf was a formidable beast, but it wasn't unbeatable.

As long as he plays his cards right, he could emerge victorious relying on his innate Whitemore Bloodline.

Not to mention, this opportunity seemed too good to pass up. It was easy money!

Thus, despite the inherent risks and his initial reservations, Val decided to accept Alfred's offer,

"Alright, I'm in," Val said finally, his voice carrying a note of resolve. "But on one condition - you keep my involvement in this a secret. You should know why."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. He knew why Val had put forth such a condition. Val didn't want to offend the party that wanted Alfred to fail the trial. He could understand him. After all, he would've done the same if he was in his shoes.

"I understand," he replied to Val, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "And I promise I won't tell anyone about your involvement."

"Then we have a deal," Val extended a hand to Alfred who shook it, sealing their agreement.

"Shall we proceed then?" Alfred asked after a moment.

"Wait," Val responded to Alfred's eager suggestion. "I need to collect my trophy first."

Alfred's eyes followed Val as he returned to the fallen lynx.

With a swift motion, Val brought down his sword, cleanly severing the lynx's head from its body.

Then, he placed the three body parts of the Lynx inside the pocket dimension of his cursed artifact.

The Lynx's head would serve as proof to Marshall that he had indeed completed his trial. The rest of the body, however, had different uses.

In the Northern Frontier, where winter gripped the land throughout the year, the lynx's fur was highly coveted. Not only did it offer excellent warmth, but it was also extremely beautiful and highly durable, and comfortable. In the market, it could be sold for a few hundred to a thousand gold coins, depending on how good he was at trading and his connections.

Moreover, the lynx's fangs, icy claws, and core held immense value. After all, a wizard could transform them into a cursed weapon worth a few thousand gold coins. However, if he were to sell them as raw materials, he would earn less than half that amount.

With his trophy secured, Val turned to Alfred, who had been quietly waiting, "Alright, we can proceed now."

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