Chapter 11 : Your Name

[You have tamed the guardian of the dragon lair!]
[Acquired Taming (Lv.1) skill!]
[The Destiny of the Wild (awakened) interferes with the taming skill!]
[Awakened the essence of the taming skill, and the level rises rapidly…]

As if welcoming Lena’s decision, system messages flooded in, while the wolf’s tongue lolled out, looking as though it might drop from exhaustion.

It was a natural outcome. The status window had unusually prompted her again to reconsider after she initially refused to tame the wolf, and the wolf had even given her a tour of the dragon lair.

The sweeter the achievement, the greater the adversity.

The wolf acted as if it had conquered the world.

In truth, Lena wasn’t empathizing with the wolf at all—she was lost in her own thoughts.

“Okay, I’ve decided.”

Lena nodded solemnly and declared, “Your name from now on is Baduk.”

?

There are many things to do when bringing an animal into your home, but if you had to pick the first, there’d be no debate: naming it.

Before I called his name, he was merely a gesture. When I called his name, he came to me and became a flower.

It was a verse every refined and dignified liberal arts student had to memorize—a famous passage that people of all ages could understand, highlighting the importance of names.

Thus, naming the wolf was like a ceremony, declaring it a member of Lena’s family.

Even so, the name Baduk felt a bit underwhelming.

“Baduk.”

Keong!

“That’s right, you’re smart. You recognize your name already.”

Lena smiled with satisfaction.

She was listening and responding as she pleased. The wolf, baring its teeth and growling with a trembling voice, was clearly protesting the name change.

Baduk?

The wolf had no clue where the name came from. It just sounded folksy somehow—a name that was easy for her to call but embarrassing to be called by others. A wave of rejection surged from its heart through its entire body in an instant.

“After all, dog names like Hayangi, Bokgu, and Badugi are easy to remember.”

The image Lena had in mind was of a country mutt—a loyal guard dog raised in the yard, wagging its tail at visitors but barking at thieves. The wolf happened to fit that image perfectly.

It was small and tiny now, but that was only temporary. Judging by the size of the parents she had buried, this was an individual destined to grow enormous.

This is Baduk—what else could it be?

Lena gazed contentedly at the wolf, who was leaping around as if excited.

“Oh, what’s this? The name is changing?”

Lena’s eyes widened. The name above the wolf’s head had shifted to Badugi. It meant the status window had acknowledged her naming.

Well, it was a pity for the wolf, but mute creatures didn’t get a say in their own names.

“Yeah, you need this kind of flexibility.”

If it displayed the same species name as others, it could lead to misunderstandings or trouble—like mistaking it for an enemy in combat and attacking it based solely on the name. It wasn’t an impossible scenario.

She’d grown accustomed to checking names first and acting second, rather than judging by appearance, especially after how easily she’d spotted the beast’s ambush and surprise attack thanks to its name.

“Okay, okay, stop. You’re kicking up dust. I know you’re happy, but we need to leave now. It’s already late evening, even if we head home right away. You need to eat on time—that’s how you’ll grow big.”

The wolf sighed. It had been expressing its opinion by making a fuss with its whole body, but Lena didn’t seem to hear it. On the contrary, with that strange look in her eyes, she kept saying odd things.

She’d understood it well until now, so what was this?

“Hmm, now that I think about it, I need to make a leash too. It’s not right to raise a dog without one.”

The wolf should have sensed something suspicious and bolted the moment she wavered so obviously yet refused to back down. The realization came too late.

The wolf, now Badugi, reluctantly accepted its name.

A group of people marched along the road. One person led the way, while the rest followed in an orderly formation.

Judging by their disciplined appearance, they weren’t an ordinary group. Their identities were clear from their attire: armor fastened with cloaks that parted with each step and glinted in the light, paired with swords worn at their waists.

They were knights.

“Red Rose Knights!”

“Yes!”

“Okay, focus! This is important, so open your ears and listen carefully!”

They didn’t exude the sharp, dignified aura of unapproachable knights from novels or tales. Except for the senior at the head, they carried a sloppy, awkward air—a freshness that marked them as new recruits.

“Do you see that forest in the distance?”

“Yes!”

“That’s the Great Forest! As you all know, you’re scheduled for a three-day survival initiation ceremony there!”

The sound of nervous gulps echoed repeatedly.

The Knights’ headquarters wasn’t far from the Great Forest—a fitting location, since the Red Rose Knights were established to protect the territory from its threats. Naturally, the new recruits’ initiation involved proving their capabilities through survival in the Great Forest.

“Don’t be so nervous! I’m not ordering you to rummage deep inside! There’s no need to venture far—just survive for three days at the entrance!”

Even so, the tense atmosphere didn’t ease. The Great Forest’s danger was so infamous that even children across the continent knew of it.

To draw a comparison, it was like the smallpox tales from Lena’s homeland: If you keep crying like that, I’ll abandon you in the Great Forest! The monsters there will get you, you naughty child!

The phrasing wasn’t formal, but the gist was the same. In Lena’s homeland, it was a dated trick treated as an old story, but on this continent, it was a thriving, highly effective scare tactic. That’s how notorious the Great Forest was.

Even wearing the title of knights, these were just new recruits. The senior’s words went in one ear and out the other.

“Oh, geez.”

The knight sighed softly at their behavior.

The level of kids these days is nothing compared to the old days.

This wasn’t just the grumbling of an old-timer longing for the glory days—it was a stark reality. The skill level of the Red Rose Knights’ new recruits was undeniably declining each year.

It stemmed from the collapse of their lord, the ruling noble family. The Knights, once on par with the Imperial Knights, had fallen to the status of a rural backwater order. The quality of recruits had no choice but to worsen.

It was a small miracle they’d managed to gather nearly a dozen new recruits this time. Without the Baron running himself ragged, they might’ve gotten one or two at most.

Still, this batch had something to look forward to—a jewel among the riffraff.

The knight’s gaze lingered on one recruit in the front row. Unlike their peers, their expression was steady, their breathing calm. Their cloak was spotless, their steps precise—an impressive sight.

Recalling the recruit’s identity, the knight fell into fresh doubt.

Why would such a genius join this outdated Knights’ order? It’s welcome, but… hmm…

“?”

“I’ll tell you what to watch out for!”

The knight quickly averted his gaze before their eyes met and shouted, “It’s information about the monsters you might encounter at the Great Forest’s entrance! You need to know this to survive!”

Even if they were riffraff, knights were knights—they could handle ordinary monsters with ease. But the Great Forest’s monsters were different. Even the same species outclassed their counterparts outside, and mutations were common. Information was their lifeline.

“And finally, the ones you need to be most careful of: ruler-class monsters in the Great Forest!”

The public saw the Great Forest as a chaotic hell where monsters killed each other at whim, but there was order there—an order forged by power.

Ruler-class monsters.

They had divided the masterless Great Forest into territories, claiming them as their own.

“…There are this many of them! However, one remains unaccounted for—it hasn’t been sighted in ages and is provisionally considered extinct! I’ll teach you about it anyway, so just memorize it!”

The knight growled playfully, raising three fingers like claws.

“Wraith Wolf! Judging by the name, you might think it’s a spirit-type monster, but that’s wrong! Its movements are so stealthy that only commander-level knights can sense its presence—hence the name! So, seven in total. If you encounter any of them, run!”

“I have a question.”

As he finished speaking, a recruit raised their hand. It was the one the knight had been watching closely.

“Speak!”

“As a knight, I think it’s cowardly to flee without fighting, even against ruler-class monsters.”

“Is that so?”

He’s brimming with fighting spirit.

The knight chuckled.

“Whether it’s cowardly or not is a discussion for after you survive. I know you’re confident in your skills, but it’s better to follow my advice and not act recklessly.”

Rustle.

The knight mimicked a sound with his mouth and drew a hand across his throat.

“They’re monsters you couldn’t beat even if you died and came back to life at your level.”

Kkaeng!
“Uh-huh, stop whining. It’s not even that heavy. I’ve carried it all.”

Kkiing!

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch, Baduk. You have to earn your keep. Or are you confident you can leave me and survive on your own?”

The Wraith Wolf, Badugi, wore a distressed expression.

It was his own fault for meeting the wrong owner.