Chapter 13

Grrrk…

“It’s shaking!”

One knight shouted as he pressed a hand against the wall.

Clack!

From the ceiling and the walls on both sides, scarlet flames burst forth. The heat was so fierce that the knight melted together with his armor, and three others nearby burned alive from within.

“Down on the ground!”

Hazabut barked as he raised a barrier around himself.

This was the third tremor already. And this one was stronger and longer than the last. The vibrations were growing more intense each time.

“Will you be alright, Lord Hazabut?”

A mage approached, his body wrapped in a barrier.

“…I’ll manage. Once the tremors end, assess the destroyed traps and count the casualties.”

“Yes, sir.”

The temple interior was a labyrinth, with traps lurking everywhere. More than half their number had already perished because of them.

Kark, guided by the temple’s pull, had been drawn safely into the inner sanctum—but for the expedition, the situation was far grimmer.

When the shaking finally stopped, the mage began gathering survivors.

“Five are dead.”

“Fools… and the traps?”

“Two of the ones ahead have been destroyed.”

[Send the knights first.]

Hazabut’s telepathic command rang in the mage’s mind. He hurried off to the gathered troops.

“You seem rather tired.”

“…I’m fine.”

Dumaine approached with a mocking smirk.

He was a Master, one who could release mana freely. Traps and tremors like these couldn’t harm him. Even so, he remained in the middle ranks of the formation, just in case.

“With the tremors growing stronger, it seems we’re nearing the source.”

“We’ll arrive soon enough.”

If not for Dumaine, Hazabut would have suffered grievously from the traps. For that reason, his attitude toward the knight had softened—slightly. But whenever he saw that smug face drawing near to taunt him, the urge to kill rose sharp and sudden.

“Finish your preparations. We’re moving again!”

A mage’s shout echoed from the front.

Dumaine cast Hazabut a sidelong glance, then rejoined the formation.

The entire space I stood in was a magic circle.

The floor. The walls. The ceiling.

All of it formed one great circle.

From the refined Dragon Hearts, the mana flowed into the floor, then into the walls, then into the ceiling. It coursed along unnatural streams, feeding into six points set into the floor. From those six, it flowed again—twisting into strange paths that all converged in the center.

The chamber blazed with light. A sudden surge of mana had forced the circle into activation.

The six points linked together in lines. From those lines, peculiar patterns emerged.

A hexagram.

At its center, two overlapping circles.

Only after four attempts did I finally see the entire design.

Slowly, I traced the whole array. From the Dragon Hearts, torrents of mana were being poured into the circle without end.

Naturally, the magic circle wasn’t just one pattern. Layers upon layers overlapped—accumulation, preservation, transfer… gate… suppression… dimension…

Dimension?

Transfer, gate, dimension?

I examined the circle again. That was when it happened.

An immense suction burst from the center. At the same time, mana drained explosively from the Dragon Hearts.

My body staggered, being pulled in.

I forced mana into my lower body to weigh myself down, anchoring around my dantian to resist the pull. Even then, my steps tilted forward, inch by inch.

I cast gravity magic on myself. The space around me grew heavier, the ground beneath my feet sinking slightly.

Only then did I stabilize.

“What is this…?”

I realized it too late.

With the suction came silence—the tremors vanished.

Then suddenly, the pull stopped.

I waited, cautious, watching. When no sign of renewed suction appeared, I finally dispelled the gravity magic.

At the center, something was forming.

A vertical oval.

It shimmered a deep violet, exuding a foul, oppressive aura. Space itself warped, swallowing whatever brushed against it.

I tossed a pebble toward it.

The instant it touched the violet oval, it vanished without a trace—no flash, no sound.

Circling wide, I checked the opposite side. Nothing.

There was only one thing this could be.

“A portal.”

In other words, a magic gate.

A passage connecting one space to another. Step through, and you’d emerge at a different portal—though from here, there was no telling where. All I saw was violet haze and seething corruption. A lower dimension, maybe? I had plenty of knowledge, yet even I couldn’t divine where this portal led.

“Should I… go?”

Should I leave now? Or stay here, grow stronger, and break out on my own?

Could I endure? Could I even escape? What if it took ten years… would Grandpa, the village chief, still be alive then?

“…Huh?”

The portal wavered.

Reflexively, I glanced at the refined Dragon Hearts. One had already been nearly drained to fuel the portal, its light dulled and muddy.

Of the two left, one had been half-spent after years of my own use. Only one remained at half strength.

Better safe than sorry. I had to take it.

I grabbed the half-full Dragon Heart.

It resisted more than expected. Looking closer, I saw magical bindings. Carefully, I began unraveling them with a dispel spell.

“Haa…”

I didn’t know if this was the right choice. But if I landed somewhere on the continent, I could make it back within five years.

I had strength. I had knowledge of martial arts and magic. Those would be my guides.

Steadying my breath, I held the Dragon Heart and stood before the portal. The violet glow was fading.

One Dragon Heart, half full, I had already secured. Of the two remaining, one had been nearly drained just keeping the portal alive. The other was in a similar state.

“Ah.”

I might never return here. No—I should assume I couldn’t. In that case, there was no reason to leave anything behind.

I seized the second refined Dragon Heart.

The portal shrank rapidly. It must have been bound to the one I just pulled free.

“Haa…”

Now one in each hand, I drew a long breath.

My grip tightened around them.

I had no idea what waited beyond the portal.

Enveloping my body in mana, I readied myself to strike the moment I arrived.

Step by step, I approached. The suction grew stronger.

I let the portal’s pull take me.

“Your Majesty.”

“Mm?”

Somewhere within the Crimson Empire.

The sole empire on the Arkanis Continent, ruling from the center. Its vast lands were protected by countless soldiers. Yet even so, the empire was surrounded on all sides by rival kingdoms. Geography was against them—yet they had endured as an empire for centuries. The reason lay with their three imperial knights.

The Three Great Knights of the Empire—each of them Grand Masters. Absolute powerhouses. The three together were said to be enough to carve a kingdom in half, living weapons who made up more than half the empire’s true strength.

“I’d like to step out for a while.”

“Oh? And where are you headed this time, Sir Colin?”

The Emperor of Crimson spoke lazily, popping a cherry into his mouth. A glass of red wine swirled in his other hand.

Colin, balanced in stature and calm in bearing, was one of the Three Great Knights. Known also as Colin the Silver, for the color of his hair.

A Grand Master had the power to contain and mask their mana. Outwardly, Colin looked no different from a seasoned knight—hardly threatening at all.

“I was thinking of the Karnian Mountains.”

The Karnian Mountains stretched vast and jagged, looming behind the Widav Kingdom—the most treacherous range on the continent.

“…Karnian? Isn’t that where dragons dwell?”

Indeed, the range was named after the dragon said to live there—Dragon Karnian.

“That was two hundred years ago. The dragon has not shown itself since.”

“Still… it’s unsettling.”

“I’ll be back in one piece.”

“You speak as if a dragon were nothing. Even for a Grand Master, a swipe of its foreclaw would leave you half-dead.”

“You underestimate Grand Masters, Your Majesty.”

At his confident reply, the Emperor chuckled.

“Go, then. It’s a long road—shall I at least provide a carriage?”

The Emperor treated Colin without formality. In truth, the two had been close friends since childhood.

“A single horse will suffice. I’ll return before the season changes.”

The next day, Colin rode out toward the Karnian Mountains.

“We’ve found a cavern.”

The mage’s hushed report made Hazabut’s eyes gleam as he gave a slight nod. After suffering heavy losses from traps that triggered at the faintest sound, everyone had grown cautious.

Since entering the Demon King’s Temple, they had already lost two-thirds of their forces.

There was no time for grief. What awaited Hazabut’s party was not mourning, but the death-laden traps that filled these halls.

The temple stretched endlessly, its depths unseen. Moving forward with death looming at every step had sunk the entire group into grim silence. The discovery of a cavern was the first change in their bleak march.

“Where is it?”

“Five minutes ahead. All discovered traps have been disabled, but… there may still be those we missed.”

“And the interior?”

“That hasn’t been checked yet…”

At the mage’s shrinking voice, Hazabut shook his head.

“We need details from inside. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

The mage moved again, issuing orders. A number of soldiers and attendants hurried off.

After some time, the mage returned and gave his report. Hazabut listened carefully, then gave several new commands. Soon the company was moving, making their way toward the cavern.

When they arrived, they found high ceilings, wide space, and walls scarred by fire and shattered stone. The cavern was large enough to hold their remaining force with room to spare.

“Hm…”

Hazabut felt the trace of a strange mana flow—faint, but unsettling.

Drawn by it, he began to walk. Some of the other mages called after him, but he didn’t answer, continuing to follow the current. He inspected walls, floor, and ceiling in turn, ignoring the worried glances behind him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the soldiers kept watch, wary of hidden dangers.

Dumaine scanned the cavern with cool eyes. The only way out was the entrance they’d come through, now guarded by two soldiers.

“So here it is…”

Hazabut’s mutter drew Dumaine’s gaze.

What’s the old fool doing in the middle like that?

To him, the mage looked half-crazed.

‘These damn mages, always with their heads in the clouds…’

With a disdainful glance, Dumaine turned away and approached a black box set in the cavern. Curiously, no one had gone near it.

The moment he drew closer, he understood why. A clinging sense of unease pressed against him.

It was unpleasant—so unpleasant he wanted to turn away. But forcing himself onward, he laid a hand on the lid and pushed it open.

“This is…”

Dumaine let out a low breath.

Inside lay a radiant crystal, brimming with tremendous mana.

A refined Dragon Heart—the same kind once used to sustain the portal. Though far weaker now than at the start, the power it still contained was enormous. Even for a Sword Master like Dumaine, the quantity remaining was staggering.

He glanced around. No one seemed to notice. The old mage was still absorbed elsewhere, and the others weren’t even looking this way.

‘A test of worth?’

Dumaine tightened his grip and pried the refined Dragon Heart free.

The moment he did, something shifted.

Hazabut was the first to notice. He had been tracing the faint remnants of the portal’s mana flow—until suddenly, that flow was cut off entirely. His head snapped toward Dumaine, who now held the radiant crystal in his hand.

‘That’s…!’

Hazabut’s eyes gleamed.

There was only one crystal in existence that could hold such vast mana. Not mithril, not any crystal forged by mortals could compare.

‘A Dragon Heart!’

Hazabut strode forward with heavy steps. Dumaine’s brow furrowed slightly.

“What is it?”

Hazabut asked in a low voice.

So much for taking it quietly. What now?

Dumaine glanced around, then let a faint smile curl his lips.

“Would you rather I announced this discovery aloud?”

“Tch.”

“You already know what this is.”

The fewer who knew, the better. Hazabut’s greed flared hot. Not even the king needed to hear of this. He gave a slow nod.

But he wasn’t about to hand it over to a foolish knight. Sharing it was out of the question.

“Yes… I understand.”

Hazabut’s voice was mild, but in his heart he sneered. ‘Idiot.’

Silently, he began weaving a shadow spell. It was his specialty. Normally, casting stirred mana that others could sense, but this technique let him cloak it, preparing unseen. The cost was high—intense focus and much more time—but here, it was perfect.

He moved carefully, making sure not to rouse suspicion. Dumaine relaxed a fraction, even putting the Dragon Heart back into the black box and shutting the lid. With casual strength, he lifted the entire box from where it was embedded in the ground.

‘Now!’

The stupid knight cradled it like a treasure, all his attention locked on it.

Hazabut whispered the incantation of a 6th-class mental spell.

‘Memory Alteration.’

A faint light flickered from his head, then sank into the minds of everyone present.

One by one, the soldiers’ memories twisted, reshaped to Hazabut’s will.

Dumaine, too, should have been ensnared. Even a Sword Master could not withstand such a spell unguarded.

But then—light flared from the black box. The magic that should have seized Dumaine dissolved in an instant.

Hazabut’s eyes went wide. Impossible.

“What trick is this…?”

Dumaine felt it too. He knew what had just been attempted. Rage flared, and with it a storm of mana burst from his body.

At this range, no mage alive could withstand a Master’s killing intent.

Hazabut threw up a 4th-class barrier in panic. Yet again, the black box flared, and both Dumaine’s storm and Hazabut’s spell vanished into nothing.

It had nullified them.

The box was protecting itself. That was the only explanation.

The soldiers’ minds bent to Hazabut’s will, but Dumaine stood untouched. And because of the box, he couldn’t strike back either. Every surge of power was smothered the moment it sparked.

The two glared at each other, their eyes bristling with unspoken fury.

But here, with so many watching, neither could risk open conflict.

Hazabut had struck first. By rights, Dumaine had every reason to cut him down. Yet the situation shackled him.

“Enough. There’s nothing more to see.”

He had the Dragon Heart now—that was all that mattered.

They had found one within the Demon King’s Temple. That fact alone blinded them to the ruins, to the burned walls and collapsed stone.

Dragon Hearts were treasures beyond compare. To miss this chance would be unthinkable.

And so, with strained composure, Hazabut and Dumaine turned back, hurrying to report their “discovery.”