Having made his decision, Gaon turned his gaze to Dave.
He probably doesn’t know.
Not all his questions had been answered, but Dave likely lacked the knowledge to address the rest.
Based on his earlier responses, the odds were low.
Fine.
There’s an information guild in Tren Village.
Contrary to his fears that Tren Village might have vanished, it had grown significantly—nearly a small city.
With its expansion came an information guild, which could resolve his remaining questions.
“Ugh!”
Gaon suddenly clutched his chest, letting out a pained cry.
Dave’s eyes widened, but realization struck quickly.
Now’s my chance!
Instinctively, he saw an opportunity to end Gaon.
He lunged forward.
Crack!
A chilling sensation gripped him, ice creeping from his feet.
“Argh!”
Dave screamed, looking at Gaon, who now stood unfazed, as if the earlier pain had been a ruse.
Dave understood—he’d been played.
“As expected,” Gaon said curtly.
“People like you never change.”
He had hoped otherwise, but Dave was beyond redemption.
Max and Breed were likely no different—Max had been the first to suggest killing him.
“P-please, spare—”
“Wind Cutter!”
Swish!
A blade of wind sliced through Dave’s neck, ending him instantly.
Gaon turned to Max and Breed, still unconscious, and dispatched them with two more Wind Cutters.
“Fire Wall.”
Flames engulfed the bodies, reducing them to ash.
As Gaon set out for Tren Village, he mentally listed his ultimate goals.
First: reach the 9th Circle.
The demonic invasion had thrown his plans awry by sending him to the future, but abandoning his pursuit was unthinkable.
Second: crush the seven traitorous kingdoms. Colluding with the Demon Realm to destroy the world?
Whatever their reasons, Gaon wouldn’t let them stand.
Third: eliminate the demonic entities emerging from the rifts and seal them all.
Fourth: investigate and resolve the Varta Kingdom’s crisis, restoring its former glory.
Restoring the Varta Kingdom wasn’t just sentimental.
It tied to his other goals.
A restored empire would provide resources for elixirs, hastening his path to the 9th Circle.
Destroying seven kingdoms alone was daunting, and managing the aftermath required allies.
The same applied to the rifts—hundreds of them, multiplying, were impossible to handle solo.
None of this will be easy.
Even the seemingly simplest goal—fixing the Varta Kingdom—would be arduous.
If only the situation there is something simple.
Hoping for an easy resolution, Gaon focused on his journey.
Soon, he stopped mid-step—not because he’d reached Tren Village, but because his sharpened senses detected something.
Turning, he spotted a boulder with a hollow beneath it. Someone lay there, dying.
What startled him was the faint, familiar energy emanating from them.
This energy…
It wasn’t someone he knew—the aura was too weak—but it was unmistakable.
Approaching the boulder, Gaon pushed it aside.
Grind…
No magic, just raw physical strength.
My body’s stronger than before.
This feat would’ve been impossible in his past life, a testament to the Heaven-Shattering Method’s second wall.
Lowering his gaze, he saw a young man, late teens or early twenties, barely clinging to life.
“Flying!”
Using magic, Gaon lifted the man and checked his right forearm, revealing a tattoo of a skull pierced by a staff.
As I thought.
The tattoo confirmed it—he was tied to Slay, leader of the Slayers organization.
Not a disciple—Gaon knew all of Slay’s students, and this man was too weak to be one.
Slay might have taken new disciples after the Time Reversal Magic Circle, but this man was likely just a member, perhaps a low-ranking sorcerer.
Gaon pulled a potion from his pouch and administered it, wondering, Did Slay break through his wall?
Fifty-five years ago, Slay had estimated twenty years of life left.
Without reaching the 8th Star, he’d be dead by now.
But if he had succeeded, he could still be alive—and a valuable ally.
“Ugh…”
The young man groaned, regaining consciousness.
Seeing Gaon, his face registered shock.
Gaon set him down to talk. “Your name?”
“Jeff,” the man replied.
Gaon’s eyes widened slightly.
He’s not dead?
Dave, Max, and Breed had mentioned a Jeff during their scheming—presumably dead.
It could be a coincidence, but Jeff’s near-death state suggested otherwise.
“I…” Jeff hesitated, eyeing Gaon warily before asking, “May I know your name?”
“Gaon.”
“Thank you, Gaon. I’d have died without you.”
Cutting to the chase, Gaon asked, “Are you a Slayers sorcerer?”
Jeff’s face froze, then turned guarded.
“Who are you?”
He’d sensed Gaon’s extraordinary presence, but knowing his affiliation with the Slayers? How?
Gaon considered mentioning his connection to Slay but dismissed it.
In his eleven-year-old body, claiming ties to a figure from decades ago would sound absurd.
“I saw the Slayers tattoo,” he said instead.
“Oh.”
Jeff glanced at his arm, understanding.
“Yes, I’m Jeff, a 2nd Star sorcerer of the Slayers.”
“What’s a Slayers sorcerer doing this far out?”
The Slayers stronghold was in Kavani, the capital of the sorcery kingdom Kavuan, far south.
Why was a novice 2nd Star sorcerer here?
“Well…” Jeff hesitated, conflicted.
“You don’t have to say,” Gaon offered.
“No, it’s fine,” Jeff replied, startled.
“I work at the Tren branch. Recently, headquarters ordered us to gather materials from the Great Forest. I hired guides with my junior, but…”
His face darkened with anger. Gaon didn’t need to hear more.
Jeff’s junior was likely Wislin, and the guides were Dave, Max, and Breed.
“Do you know Dave, Max, and Breed?”
Jeff’s eyes widened. “How do you know them?”
“They tried to kill me, so I killed them.”
“Oh.”
Jeff let out a soft exclamation, then bowed deeply.
“Thank you. Truly. I’d like to repay you, but I have nothing now. If you’re heading to Tren Village…”
“I am, but I didn’t do it for a reward,” Gaon said. “Also, Arfows inhabit Darman Forest. You’d die going alone.”
“Arfows?” Jeff’s face paled.
Gaon nodded. He’d killed thirty Arfows blocking his path, but hundreds remained. A 2nd Star sorcerer like Jeff wouldn’t survive.
“Ugh…” Jeff groaned, distressed.
“What materials do you need? I might sell you some.”
Gaon had no money but had collected monster byproducts and herbs along the way.
“Really? Five Aslan Flowers, one kiloliter of Suares Tree Sap, and two Tapo Roots.”
Gaon’s brow furrowed.
He had them all, but… Curse-breaking materials?
All three were potent for lifting curses.
Why did Slayers headquarters need them?
“Do you know why they need those?”
“Sorry, I don’t,” Jeff admitted.
“Fine. I have them all.”
“Oh!” Jeff exhaled in relief, then cautiously asked, “Can we pay you at the branch?”
“Sure, we’ll trade there.”
“Thank you!” Jeff bowed again.
Gaon and Jeff set off for Tren Village, Gaon gleaning information along the way.
Though only a 2nd Star, Jeff, as a Slayers member, knew plenty about Tren and beyond.
“So, it’s your first time in Tren Village?” Jeff asked.
“Pretty much.”
Technically, it wasn’t, but fifty years had transformed the village.
It was as good as new to him.
As they chatted, Jeff hesitated. “May I ask something?”
Gaon nodded.
“Which magic tower are you training at?”
Jeff was curious about Gaon, who exuded the aura of a high-level mage.
Gaon had been about to ask the same.
Though he’d relinquished the tower master’s seat, he hadn’t left the tower.
He was eager to know the fate of Gardion, the tower he’d founded.
“Gardion,” he answered.
“Oh! You’re from the Dawn Tower—” Jeff began, then stopped, eyeing Gaon nervously.
Gaon sensed trouble.
Jeff continued cautiously, “There are branches of the Fire Tower and Rud Tower in Tren.
They’re far from our branch, but… will that be okay?”
Gaon’s heart sank.
His Dawn Tower, Gardion, was at odds with the Fire and Rud Towers—and it sounded serious.