"I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!"

A beautiful blond woman rose from her seat.

The faint clink of armor echoing through the crowded hall. Her gleaming white plate shimmered under the lantern light, and her sharp blue eyes burned with quiet resolve.

Everything about her radiated confidence—the kind of aura that silenced conversations and drew stares without a word.

They called her the Armored Rose.

The moment she stood, the entire tavern erupted in murmurs.

"Wait, is that Alyssa? Is she really going to test the herbalist herself?" someone whispered.

"Yeah, the Armored Rose herself!" another replied, excitement rising.

"But isn't she too strong for a newcomer test?"

She wasn't just any adventurer.

Alyssa was the Alyssa—the leader of the B-Class team Blue Bound, one of the most promising adventurer groups in the region.

Rumor had it she hailed from an old, wealthy family that could buy a whole district if they wished. But unlike other nobles, she earned her title on the field, in armor, sword in hand.

Now, to everyone's disbelief, she was volunteering to test a newcomer.

"No way… she's going to test him? The herbalist?" a man at the back asked, voice half disbelieving, half amused.

"She never takes part in rookie tests," another muttered. "And that guy's level twenty-five at most. She'll slice him apart before he even blinks."

"I'm betting three gold coins on her," a third voice called.

"Anyone brave enough to bet on the herbalist?"

"Ha! What's the point? That match is already over before it starts. Just look at them!"

The referee—a middle-aged man with a patient, if slightly nervous, expression—cleared his throat. He knew exactly what Alyssa's sudden challenge meant.

Turning to Auren, he said carefully, "It seems the only one who volunteered to test you is our very own Alyssa. If you accept, and somehow manage to defeat her, you'll be promoted straight to C rank. But if you refuse, then we can settle for a D rank today, ofcourse given that you pass the written exam."

Auren paused. The words straight to C rank tempted him, but he wasn't one to rush decisions. He rubbed his chin, his mind already calculating.

A C rank for a level 25 herbalist… that's a massive leap. But that might also paint a target on my back. She's clearly popular. If I win, it'll make noise—and noise attracts trouble.

He turned to the referee. "Is there really no one else? I mean, no offense, but the gap between us looks pretty unfair."

"Are you scared?"

The confident, teasing voice echoed from across the arena.

Alyssa had already stepped onto the platform, her polished boots clinking softly on the wooden floor. She crossed her arms, lips curving into a smirk.

"Or is it because I'm a woman?"

Auren sighed. "Oh, sh*t here we go again…" he muttered under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the audience.

Then he looked her dead in the eye.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm fully aware of my limits. But looking at your Divine Frame, and your rank, I know better than to underestimate you—woman or not."

A brief flicker of respect flashed in Alyssa's eyes.

He's smart, she thought.

Knows how to talk without groveling.

"How about we make this more interesting?" she said, voice suddenly sweet, almost playful.

The crowd instantly leaned forward, their curiosity piqued.

"An offer, huh?" Auren said, arching a brow. "Alright, I'm listening."

"If you win," Alyssa said, lifting her chin proudly, "not only will you be promoted to C rank immediately, but I'll also consider letting you join our party, Blue Bound."

The hall exploded with noise.

"No way—did she just say Blue Bound?"

"Joining Blue Bound means guaranteed access to high-tier quests!"

"Forget that! Just being in their ranks means free training, protection, and maybe even a ticket to the A-Class in the future!"

"Lucky bastard… that is if he can last a minute! hahaha!"

The laughter rolled through the room, but Auren barely reacted. He'd never cared much for fame or teamwork.

He preferred working alone—quietly, efficiently. Yet now, with Bigbird off on his mysterious "sabbatical," and Ugha's cryptic warning echoing in his head—find a team, trust the road unseen—Auren couldn't afford to ignore the opportunity.

Still, he asked, "And if I lose?"

Alyssa's grin widened. "Then you'll be stuck at D rank for a year. Cleaning kennels, chasing rats, collecting dog poop—all the glamorous jobs. Your growth will slow to a crawl."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice with a playful glint. "And if I accidentally break a few bones in the process, don't take it personally. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you… probably."

Auren exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

"Big words for a woman dressed head to toe in gold-plated luxury," he said, his eyes scanning her armor.

Years of tinkering and crafting back in the Elven lands had given him an eye for fine metalwork. Every piece of her armor was high-tier—runes of protection etched with expert precision, steel reinforced with mithril weave.

Even her gloves were lined with mana-thread stitching. Her family's coin, no doubt.

Rich kid, talking big… alright, he thought with a small grin,

now I'm fired up.

He stepped forward into the arena, gripping his weapon—a chipped, slightly rusted steel sword that had clearly seen better days.

"Alright," he said. "But I'm not promising to join your team. I just need the rank."

"Fair enough," Alyssa replied smoothly. "But I'll make sure to show you what Blue Bound's power looks like."

She drew her weapon—a flawless silver longsword that shimmered with golden light as soon as it left its sheath. The crowd gasped in unison.

The blade was no ordinary weapon. Its light pulsed gently, alive with enchantment.

Auren blinked, surprised. The glow reminded him of Austaire's heirloom sword, though hers had been pure gold rather than silver-gold.

That same divine craftsmanship… that same ancient pulse of mana.

He sighed softly.

"Great. I'm fighting someone with a family relic. What could go wrong?"

The referee stepped between them, looking slightly worried. "Last warning, Auren. This won't be an easy fight. You could be seriously injured."

Auren smiled faintly, brushing a bit of dust from his face.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm ready."

The referee hesitated, then nodded. "Very well."

He raised his arm high, signaling to the audience that the duel was official. The crowd roared with anticipation.

Auren adjusted his grip on his sword, feeling the familiar weight of steel in his hand. His stance was simple—nothing fancy, no flourish.

His calmness almost made him look out of place in the grand arena. Alyssa, on the other hand, stood poised like a painting, every movement refined, every breath controlled.

She tilted her head slightly. "Try not to die too fast."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Try not to regret underestimating me."

For a heartbeat, the world went quiet.

The wind brushed against the open coliseum walls, carrying the smell of dust, sweat, and excitement.

The distant sound of metal clinking and a murmuring crowd created a strange rhythm—like the steady ticking of fate waiting to strike.

Then the referee's hand dropped.

"Begin!"

Alyssa moved first.

Her sword flashed, quick as lightning, slicing through the air with a whistle while her body moved at terrifying speed.

Auren barely managed to block, sparks flying as his cracked blade met hers. The impact sent a jolt through his arms, numbing his wrist, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back.

The audience gasped.

Few expected him to even block the first hit.

"Oh? Not bad," Alyssa said, smiling.

"Maybe this won't be boring after all."

She swung again, faster this time, her strikes flowing with trained precision. Each movement was graceful yet deadly, her armor moving as if weightless.

Auren parried, stepped back, sidestepped.

His sword wasn't built for speed or elegance—it was just a tool, but in his hands, even a broken blade could become dangerous. His eyes flicked over her stance, memorizing her rhythm, studying her breathing.

'Good form. Predictable swing. Too reliant on technique, not instinct.'

He ducked low and kicked up a spray of dust, forcing her to blink. Then he lunged forward, feinting a strike toward her shoulder—only to twist at the last second, slashing at her side.

She blocked just in time, though her boots scraped against the ground.

Alyssa's smirk faltered for a moment.

He read my movement?

The crowd cheered, sensing the tension spike.

"Impressive," she said, genuine admiration in her tone now.

"But you'll need more than clever feints to touch me."

She raised her sword, runes along the blade igniting with light. The air around her shimmered with mana.

Auren's heart thumped once, steady and focused.

'Alright then,' he thought, tightening his grip.

'Time to see how far I can push this body.'

The arena pulsed with anticipation, mana swirling like wind before a storm. Somewhere in the crowd, a faint shimmer of gold flickered—unseen by all but the fates themselves.

And as Auren raised his sword once more, ready to meet her glowing blade, a strange feeling stirred in his chest. Something dormant. Watching. Waiting.

He had no idea that this single duel—the reckless choice of a "level 25 herbalist"—would alter the course of his destiny forever.