Chapter 45: Fire in the Shadows

Erankel Mountain.

Three hours by carriage from Gerond Village.

In the dead silence, the coachman’s voice rang out.

“We’ve arrived!”

Ethan stepped out.

To the coachman, he said.

“Stay here.”

“Understood.”

The guildmaster led the way.

As they climbed the mountain, Ethan asked.

“Are the printing press’s guards black mages?”

“No. I suspect… a fire mage.”

“Fire?”

“Yes. When distributing the books… a face-like form appeared in burning candles. We used it to communicate a few times.”

The guildmaster spilled secrets without hesitation. The moment he headed to the press with the Archduke, his ties to the Order were exposed.

The Order.

Those ruthless bastards wouldn’t spare him.

Better if the Archduke razed the press.

That’s why he revealed everything.

A mage.

A term he’d heard often lately. The mage group tied to Helmut.

And now, mages in the Order.

Somehow, Ethan sensed a deep connection between them.

His instinct—honed as a Transcendent in his past life—rarely failed.

A face in candle flames.

Likely above the fifth circle.

Higher rank than the black mage.

The mine had only one guard, but this press teemed with Order members.

A more critical site.

Thus, its overseer would hold a higher position.

After two hours of climbing—

A cave appeared in the distance.

The guildmaster whispered.

“That’s it.”

“Size inside?”

“It widens as you go. Hold on…”

He picked up a branch and scratched a map in the dirt.

It depicted the cave’s structure.

Though crude, it was legible.

“Machines for printing are here. Mercenaries patrol here and here. The mage is usually here…”

The layout resembled a maze.

Would’ve gotten lost without this.

Nodding, Ethan asked.

“Just one mage?”

“I don’t know for sure… but I’ve only seen one.”

“Got it.”

Ethan pressed a pressure point on the guildmaster. He collapsed limply. Ethan propped him against a rock.

His leg-controlling pressure point was hit—immobile for half a day.

“Wait here.”

“Y-Yes.”

His legs were paralyzed. He had no choice but to wait.

Ethan entered the cave.

No guards at the entrance.

Like the abandoned mine, there were no basic defenses—not even an alarm ward.

He smirked.

A supposedly vital site with such lax security?

They hadn’t been challenged in years.

They’ve dug deep into the kingdom.

The Ducal Territory, destined to be his.

The thought of vermin infesting it fueled his rage.

He gripped his greatsword tightly. As he stepped inside—

Voices echoed from within, lively, as if sharing amusing tales.

“Hey, Pilton! What happened next?”

“Heh. What could she do? Put a blade to her husband’s throat, and she got real compliant.”

“Didn’t get caught?”

“Who cares about a few missing people? Probably blamed on beasts. Mana makes abductions so easy.”

“Careful. If the head priest here catches you…”

“He’d cover it, right? Last time Megen screwed up, it got hushed. Didn’t it?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Megen told me. The head priest stopped the investigation instantly. This stuff’s trivial. Why lose talent like us?”

“True.”

Ethan’s face twisted. The conversation was vile.

He walked forward quietly.

His eyes met those of the guards. They wore clothes with dragon-like emblems.

Mercenaries.

“…Huh?”

“Who’s that?”

The two guards tilted their heads.

Today’s entry log was empty.

An intruder.

A first in their time here.

Startled briefly, they drew mana.

Long streams of mana rose from their swords.

That breathing technique.

Similar to the black mage’s, though slightly weaker.

These guys wield 3-star knight-level power.

A hybrid mana breathing technique blending Dragonkin and human methods. It granted immense power even to riffraff.

One mercenary sneered at Ethan.

An alarm button was nearby.

Pressing it would alert the entire cave.

But they had no intention of pressing it.

“Clearly a knight. Pfft! Perfect. I’ve been itching to test this power.”

Burning mana surged within him.

Since learning the Order’s technique, his life had changed. Mana, once exclusive to knights and mages, flowed in him.

He glanced at his comrade, Pilton.

After mastering the Order’s breathing and sword techniques, Pilton had killed a 3-star knight.

How he’d bragged!

My mana’s just as good!

Their swordsmanship was similar.

Though he’d learned the technique later, the gap had narrowed over a year.

This knight was a chance to test his skill.

“Hey, Pilton.”

“What?”

“I’ll kill him. Don’t interfere.”

“You’ll beg for help, and I’ll ignore you?”

“Lose to that guy? With mana, he’s nothing…”

At that moment—

Ethan glided toward him. The mercenary swung his sword frantically.

It seemed like proper swordsmanship. But his skill was so poor, it lacked any finesse.

Had he been a trained knight, it might’ve taken effort.

A fleeting moment, perhaps.

Ethan twisted his waist.

Dodging the diagonal slash, he thrust his greatsword.

It sliced through the mercenary’s torso, from clothes to flesh.

Blood sprayed. Pilton gasped.

Madman!

He hadn’t seen the knight’s strike.

His comrade swung, and was bisected instantly.

A monster he couldn’t face.

Pilton rushed for the alarm. As he reached—

Something pierced his hand, embedding into the cave wall behind.

His eyes widened.

Gods!

It was mana.

Having mana, he knew how absurd this was.

Most knights couldn’t project mana so far. It required immense control.

As pain surged, the knight grabbed his throat.

No sound escaped, as if choked.

“Wanted to press it?”

Ethan smiled quietly at Pilton.

He remembered their vile conversation.

Some villager had suffered.

Trash like them, given undue power, showed what happened.

“The price for touching my people? You’ll pay until you’re half-dead.”

Pressing Pilton’s pressure points, Ethan infused mana.

Blazing fire mana seared his veins.

“…Urgh!”

Every vein felt roasted.

Unbearable pain.

While burning each vein, Ethan analyzed him.

Studying his blood flow revealed how mana moved and formed in the heart.

Intriguing.

A hybrid Dragonkin-human technique.

Could work with the Eight Rings.

The Eight Rings were liquid metal in his body. Concentrating them at one point was possible.

Like them, gathering the Rings in the heart?

Could collect energy faster.

He grasped the principle. The only flaw: the mercenary’s technique was low-grade.

It had little finesse, making it unsuitable for refining the Eight Rings.

It’d shorten his lifespan.

Need a higher-grade technique.

He needed a deeper understanding.

That could boost mana collection speed while preserving his mana pool.

As he observed—

The mercenary, burned from within, died.

Ethan tossed the corpse aside.

Trash unworthy of burial.

Let worms feast. He pressed deeper.

More guards fell to his blade, becoming corpses.

After slaying over twenty—

Noises echoed from within.

“…No contact.”

“…Some… intruder… track…”

“Gather… forces…”

Caught.

He’d cleared the entrance guards silently.

Yet they reacted.

They have a communication system.

Ethan advanced. A cavernous space appeared.

Over twenty figures waited.

He smiled coldly at their crossbows.

Interesting.

Crossbows were strategic assets.

Rarely circulated.

Yet these mercenaries wielded them. The Order’s influence was greater than expected.

At the rear—

A figure in a black robe spoke curtly.

“Who are you?”

Flames danced in his hand.

A mage.

“The landlord.”

“What?”

The mage tilted his head, then flinched.

“Could it be…!”

Ethan charged.

“Fire!”

At the mage’s command, dozens of bolts flew.

A threat to a 4-star knight. But Ethan wasn’t that level.

With one swing—

The bolts melted midair.

Immense heat.

The mercenaries and mage gaped in shock.