Unedited*

Lander sneered in his face. "You’re really naive. I still don’t understand how you’re not dead."

Edward stared at him. He had so many questions in his mind. So many things to think about. But as he looked at him, his mind went blank.

His left arm was nearly torn to shreds. So he couldn’t stay here any longer. He had to go back to be healed. With no time to waste, he smiled.

"Now? Don’t insult me." Edward swung his sword sharply toward Lander’s neck and stood up. "Damn traitor." He immediately moved his arm and sliced through his neck with terrifying speed and astonishing calm.

Lander died instantly, feeling extreme coldness in his soul and intense pain in his body. The pain of the curse would surely torment him for a long time, even in death.

Lander’s blood spattered upward and stained his clothes. Still, Edward didn’t care.

He stood up and stared as the headless body fell to the ground. A man who had accompanied him on many adventures and trained with him countless times had died by his hand.

’But I feel nothing. Because you were a traitor.’

He felt no heaviness in his heart. On the contrary, he felt relief. A traitor had died.

He turned around, ignored the corpse at his feet, and began walking slowly but steadily down the long, darkened alley.

--

On a hill, south of the Commercial City.

"Cromwell, you’re late." A woman’s voice broke the deathly silence on the hill.

At that moment, Count Cromwell Hazzard materialized before her. She was cloaked in black robes that concealed her entire figure.

"I’m sorry, Miss Lyssandra. Several complications arose." The count apologized sincerely and stood beside her.

Lyssandra Vire pulled back her black hood and gazed into the distance at the Commercial City. Flames were still rising from a specific building.

"It’s such a shame. I’d worked so hard on it... I had loyal followers and a solid, growing base of believers. It really is a shame." She sighed heavily.

"Some unknown person piled thousands of tons of wood and rocks onto the main streets. And then we ran into a Military Agent. That man killed many of my horses and delayed us far too much. It’s a shame." The count sighed. He, too, felt a sense of heaviness.

"All right. One of your men reported it to me. Apparently, you were lucky enough to run into 04."

"Lucky?" Cromwell Hazzard turned to look at her. "That bastard ruined everything."

Lyssandra smiled. "It’s still luck. Not just anyone can see him."

"Do you know him?"

"Not personally. But the vampires and Varhat search for him every day to kill him. It seems they detest him. Don’t you find that curious?" 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"This..." Cromwell shook his head. "I had no idea. Why are they looking for him? Is he that dangerous? He’s a student at the Academy. He was a nuisance, but not that strong."

Lyssandra shrugged. "I have no idea. I just know they consider him a major nuisance."

Cromwell nodded, thoughtfully.

Minutes of silence followed.

But then, Lyssandra broke the silence.

"Do you know the identity of the one who caused all this?" she asked suddenly.

Cromwell frowned slightly. "The Academy’s 101st Regiment. Elder Owen, possibly."

Lyssandra nodded. "Yes. Both had a strong influence on this. Almost all of our military personnel were on duty today and couldn’t respond to the emergency call. But also, six of the leaders were missing. No one but Owen could pull that off."

"That bastard..."

"But he’s not the mastermind behind this," Lyssandra said suddenly, immediately catching Cromwell’s attention.

"No? It’s..."

"It’s hard to believe, I understand. I can’t believe it myself yet. But there’s no room for error."

Cromwell frowned. Still incredulous, he asked, "Who is it, then? Someone above Owen? The... king?"

"Edward Lux," Lyssandra replied without the slightest hesitation.

"Huh?"

"It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? So much has happened recently surrounding him..."

"They tried to eliminate him through Silas’s mission. Although Owen meddled, it was going to be a success... But in the end, not only was it a failure, but he also discovered things he shouldn’t have." Lyssandra sighed.

They had to wipe out the Merchant family and practically take over their companies, with the sole purpose of erasing as much evidence as possible.

Cromwell frowned. "Was it really him?"

"You personally sent Lawyer on a mission. What has he told you about his confrontation with him? During that mission, even one of our spies was exposed."

"Lawyer told me it’s dangerous to confront him. He doesn’t think he’s very powerful, but that Lich died because of his magic. If he can replicate that on someone else, even very powerful figures aren’t safe in his presence."

"That’s no use to me." Lyssandra shook her head. "The fact that Edward Lux is the bearer of that dangerous magic is already a given, and I don’t care. I’m talking about his mind."

"His mind?" Cromwell frowned; he didn’t understand what she meant.

Lyssandra shook her head. "Forget it."

’We’ve been on the trail of assassination attempts and even tried to take out several bastards to catch him, but he always stayed one step ahead. Either he’s too lucky or he’s too cunning,’ she thought.

More than once, she thought she had him in the palm of her hand... but when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

"Cromwell. The Cave won’t be able to operate the same way anymore, but all the missions were carried out and successfully completed." She suddenly pulled out a scroll containing information and handed it to him. "Send this to that place. Tell them that the corresponding missions have been completed and they can move on to the next phase."

Cromwell nodded. "The Magic of the End has been discovered, huh. Very well, Miss Lyssandra. I’ll meet with you later."

---

Varhat Empire, Secret Order of Varhat.

In a room dimly lit by blue stones in the corners.

A large round table stood in the middle of the room. Decorated in red and blue. Thirteen chairs as large as thrones were arranged around the table.

Each of the thrones was occupied by a prominent figure.

Thirteen men dressed identically, with no additional identifying marks.

They wore dark frock coats made of matte black leather that seemed to absorb the light coming from the corners. The coats were cut in a martial style and fitted closely to the torso. The collar was high and rigid, protecting the throat like steel gullets with gold filigree imitating sacred script.

Seven rows of fine gold chains crossed their chests, connecting their shoulders.

The shoulder pads were pieces of heavy metalwork, engraved with reliefs that seemed to tell a story.

Leather and gold bracers were tightened around their forearms, proving that, despite their high ranks, they had not ceased to be the warriors they once were. As proof of this, each of them carried physical weapons hanging from their hips.

They were not merely mages.

A monumental cloak emerges from beneath the shoulder pads. This is no ordinary fabric; at a glance, you can tell it’s haute couture, crafted using special minerals. It drapes heavily, almost as if weighted with lead, and its edges are trimmed with gold thread that traces a path from their bodies to their thrones, connecting with the table before them.

It was peculiar that they were all dressed the same. But that enigmatic energy surrounding them intensified severalfold when you looked at their faces.

There was almost no distinction between them. The same haircuts and the same expression.

Looking at them was like looking into a mirror. They were all the same.

Before they began to speak, they clasped their hands together in unison with a gentle tap and closed their eyes. They bowed their heads forward to the level of their fingertips and murmured, "Thank you, beloved great god Johyel, for your gracious blessings."

Then they waited a full minute in deathly silence, or perhaps praying in their hearts.

After a long minute of silence, one of them moved, grabbed his staff, and struck it against the ground.

The sound caused the other 12 to finally look at one another.

"This routine meeting will have much to discuss." One of them spoke. The Eye of the Void.

The Chancellor of the Shadows nodded. "I’ve heard good news coming from Línnava," he interjected.

"Though there is also bad news," the Architect of Faith announced.

"Whoever has all the information, please go ahead and lay it out. Even though we hold the same rank, not all of us have the same role," declared a man with a voice louder than the rest. He is known as The Fist of Retribution.

It was the Eye of the Void who stood up. "Brothers, let me speak."

"Go ahead, Brother Eye. We trust your investigation," interjected the Shadow Chancellor.

Eye of the Void thanked them before beginning to address the main topic. "First, we cannot ignore the destruction of that small cave, which was our base of operations in Línnava. That is very bad news."

"The good news is that almost all the missions have been completed. The bad news is that the only mission that wasn’t completed was, apparently, the one tasked with destroying the cave. Please take a look at these scrolls."

Eye of the Void handed a scroll to each of them. As the head of the spies and observers, his intelligence network is vast, and he possesses the most information within the Order.

Each member at the table read the information provided.