The grand hall of the Erion estate had never shone brighter.
Crystal chandeliers glowed with soft amber light, casting warm patterns across polished marble floors. Velvet banners bearing the Erion crest hung from high arches, and a quartet of magi-musicians played low, courtly melodies.
Arthur—still in the guise of Lord Velius—sat at the long table beside Elyra, her beauty refined and calm as ever. Kael stood quietly behind them, a silent sentinel.
Across the table, Roderick Erion raised his goblet, smiling with the easy polish of a man used to attention.
"Let me introduce my family," he said with a grand gesture. "This is Lady Miralyn, my mother."
The older woman nodded, eyes sharp behind layers of elegance.
"And my knight-captain, Ser Halvor."
A broad-shouldered man with cold, blue eyes bowed his head slightly.
Arthur's gaze sharpened as the armored man stepped forward, exuding quiet authority. There was a weight to his presence—controlled, coiled like a spring.
Appraisal, Arthur whispered under his breath, the incantation laced with subtle intent. A faint shimmer crossed his eyes, invisible to any ordinary observer.
In an instant, a stream of information flowed into his mind, concise and absolute.
Name: Vhal Lorran
Title: Knight-Captain of Erion
Rank: 3 — Peak
Affinity: Wind
Status: Vigilant, Focused
"And this," Roderick added, gesturing toward a man in black robes, "is Cederic. He has served my family for many years… something of a teacher to me."
Arthur's gaze lingered on Cederic. The man's face was lined with age, but there was a stillness to him—like a coiled serpent waiting to strike. His presence was veiled, unnatural. His aura, Arthur noticed, was too controlled.
"And your younger brother?" Arthur asked, voice smooth as silk. "I was told there were two heirs."
Roderick's smile didn't falter, but the air chilled ever so slightly.
"Ah, Darius… sadly, he's taken ill. Nothing serious, of course. He sends his apologies."
Arthur said nothing. His eyes, however, said liar.
The banquet continued. Fine dishes, enchanted wine, and polite conversation flowed like theatre—every smile hiding a dagger.
At last, Roderick stood and raised a goblet of deep crimson.
"A toast," he said. "To our most generous guest. May House Velius and House Erion enjoy a long and fruitful alliance."
Servants moved with perfect timing, refilling goblets with the dark vintage.
Arthur accepted his, swirling it lazily.
He did not drink.
Instead, he leaned closer to Elyra and spoke under his breath, so low only she could hear.
"It's poisoned."
She didn't even blink.
"I know," she replied softly, lifting her goblet. "Smile."
And then, without hesitation, she drank.
Arthur followed suit.
Across the table, Roderick watched closely—then smiled.
The poison was slow-acting, subtle. The perfect noble's death.
The chill of stone crept into Arthur's spine as his eyes fluttered open. His limbs felt heavy, stiff… bound. Mana chains glowed faintly around his wrists, each rune humming with suppression. The air was thick—stale, damp, and laced with old blood.
He shifted slightly, enough to glance to his right.
Elyra was already awake, leaning silently against the wall, her eyes sharp and alert.
"Morning," she murmured dryly. "You sleep in more than I do, little brother."
Kael stirred on the other side, cracking his neck. "Charming accommodations. Definitely not worth the wine."
A few hours earlier —
"Swallow this," Elyra had whispered under her breath as she passed Arthur a small crystal capsule, no larger than a pearl. "Modified elixir with venom dampener and neutralizing essence. Just in case."
Arthur had raised a brow. "You think they'll poison us?"
"I'd poison us," Kael had muttered with a shrug, already downing his own.
Arthur smirked, rolled his eyes—and followed.
Just as he was piecing together their next move, the heavy door groaned open.
Footsteps echoed.
Not Roderick.
But Eleka.
The younger Erion brother strode in, confident, cloaked in dark velvet. His eyes scanned the room with cool amusement, stopping at Arthur and the others—fully conscious and chained.
No surprise crossed his face. Just… satisfaction.
Arthur's gaze sharpened.
Behind Eleka followed Roderick, arms folded, with Cederic moving like a shadow at his side.
They weren't shocked.
They had expected this.
Appraisal magic flickered in Arthur's vision—mana whispering its silent truth.
Eleka Erion – Human (Peak Rank 4) – Emotional State: Elated. Arrogance. Hidden Malice.
'Interesting,'Arthur murmured to himself. No fear touched his voice. 'A man who knows how to hide… That's rare these days.'
Elyra raised an eyebrow. 'You sound impressed.'
'I'm just curious,' Arthur replied softly. 'How far they're willing to go before they realize they're already too late.'
Kael cracked his neck again, lips curling into a half-smile.
A flickering torch cast dancing shadows across the stone walls as Eleka took a step forward, arms folded, eyes narrowing at Arthur.
"I knew it," he said, voice sharp. "You people aren't ordinary merchants. You're too composed. Too precise."
He glanced sideways at Cederic, who gave a subtle nod.
"The moment he saw your little knight pup," Eleka continued, gesturing toward Kael, "Cederic said it—he's suppressing his aura. At minimum, Rank Five. No trader walks with someone like that."
Arthur didn't deny it. He remained silent, calm as a lake beneath moonlight.
"But you know what's funny?" Eleka went on. "We're still not panicking."
He tilted his head toward Cederic, whose presence loomed behind him like a specter.
"Because Cederic alone could kill all three of you before your bodies hit the floor. He's not just Rank Six—he's mid-stage. You don't stand a chance."
Still, Arthur said nothing.
Eleka sneered. "Nothing to say? That's unlike you, Velius—or whatever your name really is."
He took another step, now standing just beyond the chains.
"So tell me something," Eleka said. "Why all this? Why come here playing merchant? Why invest millions into a ruin of a city? It wasn't pity. It wasn't politics. So what's the game?"
Arthur's jaw tensed ever so slightly. He looked at Elyra, then Kael, then back at Eleka.
"…Fine," Arthur said slowly. "You want the truth?"
Eleka smirked. "Always."
Arthur exhaled. "We received… information. About a possible mana crystal mine—hidden in the mountain range just northeast of Erion."
The moment the words left his mouth, the air changed.
Even Cederic's eyes twitched.
Roderick turned his head sharply. "Mana crystal?"
Arthur nodded. "If the report is true, it's an unclaimed source—untapped, buried under years of rock and silence. And if it is… well, I don't need to tell you what that means."
Eleka's face shifted. The gears were turning behind his eyes.
"…A mana mine," he murmured. "That kind of resource would triple the city's value in under a year. No wonder you wanted in. All that rebuilding, food, charity—it wasn't for the people. It was positioning."
Arthur gave him a calm smile. "Business is built on foresight."
"But what proof do you have?" Eleka asked sharply. "You expect us to believe a rumor?"
Before Arthur could speak, Elyra stepped forward, chains rattling softly.
"If you're willing to take me to the mountains," she said, "I'll show you exactly where to look."
Eleka turned to her, suspicion in his eyes.
"And why would I risk that?"
"Because," Elyra said evenly, "if I'm wrong, you lose nothing. But if I'm right… you gain a mine."
Roderick moved to speak, but Eleka raised a hand to silence him.
"No," Eleka said slowly, his expression thoughtful. "No… she's right. We'll take a few men. Controlled. Watched. If she lies, we kill them all and bury them where no one will find the bones."
Roderick's voice was tight. "You're making a mistake—"
"I'm making an investment," Eleka snapped.
Arthur, still chained, shared a glance with Kael and Elyra. A flicker of satisfaction danced behind his otherwise unreadable gaze.
They had taken the bait.
And as Eleka turned away to order preparations, Arthur leaned his head back against the wall and let a small, knowing smile ghost across his lips.
...…
The moon hung low above the jagged peaks, casting long silver shadows across the rugged trail. Trucks had brought them this far under cover of darkness—now the rest of the journey was on foot.
Cederic led the way, his hand never far from the hilt of his blade. Roderick flanked them, eyes cold and wary. Around them, twenty knights marched in grim silence, each one between Rank 1 and 2. Two more warriors of Rank 4 followed, their expressions unreadable. But the one who stood out—cloaked in a quiet, eerie presence—was the man with no known rank. Unnamed, expressionless, and too close to Cederic to be anything but dangerous.
Arthur, Elyra, and Kael walked ahead, bound by glowing mana-suppressing chains. Every movement was a struggle, every breath steeped in tension.
Cederic's gaze never wavered. One twitch—one suspicious look—and he would end it.
"Quite a man you are," Roderick muttered as they climbed a narrow ledge. "Pretending to be a saint while scheming like a motherfucker."
Arthur didn't answer.
"Save your breath, Roderick," Eleka said, coming to the front. "We're almost there." He looked at Arthur with a venomous smile. "Just remember—if you're lying, I'll give you a pain worse than death."
He swept his gaze across the trio, his eyes settling a moment longer on Elyra. Arthur didn't speak. He only offered the faintest nod, as if cowed.
Eleka smirked.
The group finally reached a plateau that overlooked the northern cliffs—where icy winds howled and the rocks gleamed faintly with residue mana. The perfect place for a secret mine… or a trap.
The moment they stopped, one of the knights shoved Elyra roughly forward.
"Move!" he barked.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Hey," he said, tone darkening. "A little gentler, yeah?"
The knight raised an eyebrow, then shoved Kael even harder.
Kael stumbled.
Eleka flicked two fingers.
Cederic and Roderick moved instantly—swords drawn, blades pressed to Kael and Elyra's throats.
"Now," Eleka said, stepping in front of Arthur. "Show me where the mine is."
Arthur didn't move. His silence stretched long enough to make Roderick's grip tighten.
Then—
A breath.
A twitch.
And laughter.
Soft at first. A broken chuckle.
Then louder. Sharper.
"Hah…" Arthur's voice was low and amused. "Ha… haha… Hahaha…"
Kael joined in next. "You guys are way too confident, huh?"
Elyra smiled, her tone like ice. "Should've checked the chains again."
Eleka's brows furrowed. "Kill them!" he snapped. "Now!"
Cederic didn't hesitate.
His blade lashed toward Kael's throat—
Clang.
The sword froze mid-swing.
Held.
Between two fingers.
Kael's fingers.
The knight's eyes widened as Kael looked up, mana now roaring from his body like a broken dam.
"That," Kael said coolly, "was a bad idea."
The chains fell from his wrists, already shattered.
In one seamless motion, he summoned his blade from subspace—light flaring—and vanished in a blink.
The air rippled.
Cederic barely managed to step back—
Shhhk.
Blood sprayed as Kael's sword carved a deep arc across his chest. The Rank 6 warrior grunted, stumbling, shocked at the speed—like teleportation.
On the other side, Roderick shouted and swung at Elyra—
But she dropped low, her body rippling with mana. A surge of silver-blue light coursed through her limbs, shattering her chains into dust.
Roderick cursed and backed away. "Kill her!"
Knights surged toward her, steel drawn.
Elyra's eyes burned with focus.
"[Flower Dance]," she whispered.
And she moved.
Petals of violet mana swirled around her like a cyclone.
One step. Two. Then ten.
Her figure blurred—elegant, lethal, unstoppable. Swords clashed, screams rang out, blood painted the stones.
Within seconds, the battlefield fell silent.
10 knights collapsed around her—some dead before they hit the ground.
The bodies of the fallen knights hadn't even hit the ground when two more figures moved—faster, sharper, like trained predators.
Two Rank Four elites from Eleka's guard charged toward Elyra, coordinated like a hammer and anvil.
The first, a lean man with silver tattoos across his face, raised his hand and whispered:
"[Mind Shatter]."
A pulse of invisible pressure rippled through the air, crashing toward Elyra like a spear of psychic force. Her breath caught for half a second as the mental attack tried to rip into her thoughts—fracture her focus.
But Elyra's eyes narrowed. Her aura flared.
"[Silver Mirror]."
A shimmer of mana cloaked her head like a veil, and the psychic attack snapped back—fragmenting harmlessly against her own will. The silver-tattooed man staggered, clutching his temples.
She didn't pause.
But neither did her enemies.
From behind—
Shnk.
A dagger flashed toward her spine. The second Rank Four had vanished behind her like a shadow, blade aimed for the kill.
But—
Clink!
Her bracelet flared—a deep sapphire glow erupting as the [Barrier Rune: Aegis Loop] activated just in time. The dagger struck the mana shield and deflected with a screech of metal-on-magic.
"Tch," the assassin hissed, stepping back.
And then—
Wind howled.
Roderick raised his sword, the air around him spiraling into a cyclone.
"[Tempest Guillotine]!" he roared.
A storm of wind blades erupted outward, slashing toward Elyra like a thousand airborne razors.
The other two Rank Fours leapt in, flanking her with mirrored attacks—
"[Wind Fang]!"
"[Dancing Gale]!"
Three different trajectories. Three deadly skills. All converging on one girl.
Elyra didn't flinch.
Her black eyes flashed—
Violet.
Her mana surged—dark and smooth like silk, edged with lightning. She drew her sword in a flowing motion, the air around her cracking.
"Cute tricks," she whispered. "Now watch mine."
"[Moonlit Crescent]."
She moved.
In a single step, she vanished into a blur—her sword arcing through the sky in a curved, elegant sweep. It struck the storm, the fangs, the gale—
And devoured them.
Mana scattered like petals across the air as all three attacks were cleaved cleanly in two. The shockwave sent all three attackers staggering back, eyes wide in disbelief.
"What the hell is—?!" Roderick began—
But she was already moving again.
Elyra spun with deadly grace, her feet barely touching the ground as she danced through the chaos. Her blade became a ribbon of violet light.
And her voice rang out, cold and clear:
"[Petal Requiem]."
From her sword bloomed a burst of violet mana shaped like falling flower petals—each one razor-sharp, guided by her will.
The two Rank Fours raised their weapons—
Too late.
The petals tore through their defenses, slicing skin, armor, pride.
They fell to their knees.
Roderick screamed, preparing a second windburst—
Elyra was already in front of him.
"You talk too much."
She slammed the hilt of her sword into his gut, and as he folded, a swift upward kick sent him crashing into the rocks behind him.
Silence.
Only the wind remained.