The Grand Hall of the Academy was buzzing with the energy of the spring "Field Term." While senior students were drafting contracts for dragon-slaying or diplomatic escorts to the Elven capital, Shino, Kazuto, and Elsa stood before the Low-Rank board.
"Absolutely not," Elsa said, her arms crossed over her polished chestplate. she pointed a gauntleted finger at a parchment requesting a 'Basement Rat Extermination.' "A Valerius does not spend her first official expedition scrubbing rodent droppings from a tavern floor."
"It's not about the glory, Elsa, it's about the synergy," Kazuto countered, leaning against the stone pillar. He looked at Shino, who was staring intently at a water-stained notice from a village called Mistvale. "What are you looking at, Shino?"
The Scientific Choice
Shino adjusted her glasses, her [Analytical Eye] scanning the faded ink. "Mistvale. They’re reporting a 400% increase in crop destruction and a strange 'melodic resonance' coming from the southern paddies. It’s labeled as a C-Rank Giant Frog subjugation, but the data doesn't align with standard amphibian behavior."
"Frogs?" Elsa’s nose wrinkled. "They’re slimy, they’re loud, and they’re beneath us."
"They're also an 'Aqueous-Type' mana source," Shino replied, her voice slipping into her 'Librarian' lecture tone. "If we can study why their population is spiking, we can map the local mana-veins. Plus, it pays in 'Silver-Leaf'—the specific herb I need for the anti-hypnosis incense I'm developing."
Kazuto grinned, sensing a middle ground. "See? Practicality and research. And hey, Elsa, the village elder says the frogs are the size of ponies. That’s plenty of 'combat experience' for your records."
Elsa sighed, her ponytail whipping as she turned to the clerk. "Fine. But if a single drop of marsh-slime touches my silk cape, I’m holding you personally responsible, Kazuto."
The Logistics of Friction
The departure the following morning highlighted the vast gap between their worlds.
Elsa arrived with a pack-horse laden with three different sets of armor, a tent made of fine linen, and a specialized kit for polishing her rapier.
Kazuto had his trusty broadsword, a bedroll, and enough dried meat to feed a small army.
Shino, meanwhile, looked like she was moving a laboratory. Her pack was filled with glass vials, a portable mortar and pestle, and a stack of waterproof journals.
"We are going on a subjugation quest, not a botanical survey," Elsa remarked as they passed the Academy gates. She sat high in her saddle, looking every bit the noble knight.
"In my world," Shino said, walking briskly to keep pace with the horses, "the person with the most information is the one who survives. If these frogs are mutating, your 'Valerius Thrust' might just bounce off their hides."
"My blade has never 'bounced' off anything," Elsa snapped, though she subconsciously tightened her grip on her reins.
Into the Humid Dark
By the time they reached the borders of Mistvale three days later, the air had turned into a thick, wet blanket. The "Mist" wasn't just weather; it was a low-level mana-fog that smelled of peat and stagnant water.
The village was a collection of stilt-houses huddled over a vast, emerald-green marsh. The villagers didn't look relieved to see knights; they looked terrified. They stayed behind their locked shutters, watching the trio with wide, haunted eyes.
"Where is everyone?" Kazuto whispered, his hand drifting to his hilt. "The request said they needed help immediately."
Shino stopped, her ears swiveling toward the marsh. A low, vibrating thrum—like the bass string of a celestial harp—echoed through the fog. It wasn't a croak. It was a frequency.
"Elsa, Kazuto... get ready," Shino whispered, her [Analytical Eye] flashing gold. "The frogs aren't just eating the crops. They're singing to something in the mud."
Far off in the green haze, a pair of eyes the size of dinner plates blinked open, glowing with an unnatural, sickly violet light.
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