The chamber, once roaring with flame, fell silent.
The black mages were dead.
Only the soft crackling of scattered fires remained—embers licking at stone and shadow.
"Huff..."
Edrick lowered his twin daggers and took a steadying breath.
Friend, he whispered inwardly.
I'm here, replied the boyish voice of the fire spirit.
Edrick raised his right hand.
Can you stay by my side until I get out of this cave?
FWOOOSH—
A blaze swirled through the air and settled beside him.
It flickered, twisted, and shifted—then took the form of a wolf.
A creature similar to the shadow-wolves he had fought earlier, but made entirely of flame.
Thank you.
The fire spirit could only assist in areas where fire was present.
Fortunately, there was more than enough heat here to allow for five or six fire mana bullets—potent shots capable of piercing the barriers of black mages.
Time to move.
Step.
Edrick launched forward.
Despite the brutal fight just moments ago, his movements were light, nimble—unnaturally so.
That was because the spirit had already refilled his mana reserves.
Rotational exhaustion doesn't apply to me, he thought.
He ventured deeper into the stronghold.
More enemies appeared—black mages lurking in the shadows.
Each one fell to the same pattern: a feint, a flash, a fire-forged bullet. None escaped.
Traps? Neutralized by the spirit's guidance.
No ordinary Second Star knight could accomplish this.
Yet Edrick carved through the heart of the enemy stronghold alone.
THUD.
His steps halted.
Ahead stood a towering figure.
A man hefting a greatsword as long as a child was tall.
Dark Knight.
Where black mages were casters who drew upon dark mana, dark knights were warriors who infused it directly into their bodies.
They lacked variety in spellcasting—but they had something far more dangerous:
Wuuuummmm—
A dark aura pulsed along the length of the greatsword, cold and violent.
By corrupting the mana in their core, dark knights became stronger, sharper, more destructive.
Those without the proper affinity often died in the transformation.
But those who survived were monsters.
Shing.
The dark knight leveled his blade at Edrick.
Edrick let his daggers dangle loosely and turned to the wind spirit.
He's the last one, right?
Yes! Beyond him are the children—the ones they were going to sacrifice.
Black mages sought to summon demons to the mortal realm.
And for that, they needed human offerings.
These prisoners—most likely children—had to be saved.
I kill him, I save them. Simple.
Dash!
Edrick charged.
Enter!
Got it!
The wind spirit enveloped him.
Not just support—full integration.
Spirit Integration.
His body merged with the spirit's essence, enhancing every movement, every reflex.
BAM!
Edrick vanished.
His speed was unreal.
CLANG!
But the dark knight reacted.
He twisted his massive blade, deflecting the strike just in time.
Dark aura met Edrick's own, attempting to consume it.
A corrosive type...
Dark aura reflected desire—each knight's unique will given form.
This one? It devoured.
How is he resisting me? the knight growled aloud.
Even Fourth Star knights struggled against such aura.
Yet Edrick stood firm.
He didn't answer.
He simply attacked again.
CLANG! CLANG!
Twin daggers danced, blurring with speed.
Unpredictable. Relentless.
The movements weren't random—there was purpose behind each slash.
The "Sea Reaper" sword style.
A unique art passed down by knights who danced like waves.
Edrick had progressed beyond simple memorization.
He was adapting.
That was the mark of a Second Star.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Dozens of strikes in the span of a single breath.
The clash was fierce—balanced on a knife's edge.
Then—
WHOOSH!
A sharp burst of wind struck the dark knight in the stomach.
"Urgh!"
He staggered and hastily channeled mana to shield his body.
WHOOSH!
Another hit—this time to the thigh.
Once per second.
Mana bullets, faster and more precise than any the knight had seen.
That's not a mana bullet... That's a spell—at least Third Circle!
WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
There was no dodging.
By the time he heard it, the strike had already landed.
CLANG! CLANG! WHOOSH!
Dagger and magic wove together—relentless pressure from two fronts.
"Grgh...!"
Even through his mana shield, the bullets hurt.
And every time he flinched, Edrick's blade darted in like a viper.
Swordsmanship and mana in perfect harmony.
The tide was turning.
This can't go on...
The knight gritted his teeth.
I'll give up an arm. In exchange, I'll cleave him in two!
He committed to a final strike—
But then—
FWOOSH!
Flames erupted from Edrick's dagger.
He had merged with the fire spirit.
"...!"
The knight's eyes went wide.
Too hot...!
If he let that hit land, it wouldn't just cost him an arm—it would end him.
He tried to retreat—
Too late.
SHINK!
The dagger plunged into his abdomen.
The fire aura flared.
"ARGHHH!"
Flames erupted from his open mouth, burning his organs from the inside.
Even a Third Star knight couldn't survive that.
THUD.
He fell.
Still. Charred.
Edrick staggered back, dissolving the spirit integration.
"Huff... Huff..."
His heart thundered in his chest.
Spirit integration granted incredible power—limitless mana, enhanced strength, boosted durability.
But the cost?
Immense strain on the body.
"Whew..."
Sweat poured down his face.
He adjusted his mask and pushed forward.
His body screamed in protest, but he ignored it.
Ahead—movement.
Cells. Dozens of narrow cages, each holding a child.
Over fifty in total.
Where are the guards?
I'll check!
The wind spirit zipped through the cave.
Edrick leaned against the wall to rest.
Moments later—
They're gone! All of them!
There was a hidden tunnel, wasn't there?
*Yep. Even the kid with the trace spell from the ledger is gone.
Guess that's lucky.
He hadn't recovered fully from spirit integration.
If he'd been forced into another fight...
Better this way.
Once his breathing calmed, he drew his dagger and ignited its aura.
CLACK!
One by one, he sliced through the locks.
Each clang brought freedom.
"Th-thank you!"
A girl of about thirteen bowed deeply.
More followed. Some cried. Others just trembled.
Edrick clenched his fists.
The black mages must be wiped out.
They were nothing but terrorists.
If left unchecked, they would burn the world down—just like they had a century ago.
He thought of his family.
His gaze turned steely.
CLACK!
"Th-thank you..."
Fifty-three children.
All under fifteen.
Those older had likely already been sacrificed.
"We're cutting through the forest. Once we exit, stay silent."
"Yes!"
Some had been trapped for days. Others, for months.
But all of them had eyes full of determination.
Then—
"Um... where are we going?"
A girl asked softly.
Small frame. Short blonde hair. Around twelve.
Despite her youth, she held herself with quiet grace.
A noble.
Edrick scanned the others.
They had the same question.
"We're heading to Viscount Purfield's estate. It's the nearest territory."
"Oh...!"
Relief spread through the crowd.
Most of them had been sold from that very region.
But the girl's expression darkened.
"...May I take a different path?"
"Why?"
"There may be... complications. With my background."
She didn't elaborate.
But Edrick, a noble himself, understood.
An illegitimate child. Born of a mistress, not a wife.
Lucky ones were acknowledged.
Most were silenced.
The dead told no tales.
He nodded silently.
She bowed deeply in gratitude.
Even in that simple gesture, her dignity was unmistakable.
A high-ranking noble's child—no doubt.
"Any other questions?"
"..."
"Then let's go."
They exited the cave.
Though the main entrance had collapsed, the spirit had found a hidden exit.
Outside, tracks littered the ground—more footsteps than the mages Edrick had killed.
They all ran? Without a fight?
Strange.
If they had joined the battle...
Things might've ended very differently.
Something's missing...
But for now, he turned away.
The spirit guided them safely through the woods, avoiding monsters.
After about twenty minutes—
Shhhk.
Edrick knelt and dug into the dirt.
From it, he retrieved a cloak and two ledgers.
He shook the dust off the cloak and pulled it on.
Then handed the ledger forward.
Take this.
See you soon!
The spirit took off, carrying the cursed item—ready to trace its origins.
Just as it had with Dvich.
Once reunited, it would report everything it had seen.
Thirty minutes later, they finally emerged from the forest.
The children, sensing they were safe from monsters, began to relax.
"Rest."
Edrick allowed a ten-minute break.
They had another hour of walking ahead.
As they sat, the blonde girl approached.
"I'll be leaving now."
They hadn't even reached the outskirts of the town—but she was ready to go.
Edrick didn't stop her.
This was her journey.
Instead, he handed her the cloak.
"Cover your face."
"...!"
Her eyes widened.
"You're... a noble."
He said nothing.
"Thank you. I'll repay this someday."
She wrapped the cloak around herself and vanished into the trees—heading in the opposite direction.
Edrick watched her for a moment, then turned away.
Noble-born or not, it wasn't his concern.
Helping the weak was the right of the strong.
And he wasn't strong enough to protect everyone yet.
"Let's move."
He erased her from his thoughts and led the remaining 52 children toward Viscount Purfield's estate.
Meanwhile, the girl rested in a nearby grove.
Her legs ached.
She leaned against a tree and massaged her calves.
Then—she felt something in her pocket.
What...?
She reached in and pulled it out.
A silver coin.
Her hands trembled.
A cloak to hide her face.
A coin to begin her life.
Everything she needed—given in silence.
She stood, hands clasped at her chest.
I will repay this kindness.
The gesture she made was not of the Kingdom of Gaia.
It was the traditional vow of a neighboring land:
The Trastin Empire.