The Royal Capital, Eldoria, was a stark contrast to the desolate forests and ravaged villages Ren had left behind. Its walls, a shimmering white marble, rose impossibly high, crowned with golden spires that pierced the sky. Inside, the city buzzed like a disturbed beehive. Streets paved with smooth, pale stone were thronged with merchants hawking exotic goods, knights in polished armor, and mages with robes embroidered with arcane symbols. The air hummed with a different kind of magic here—the magic of prosperity and power.
Ren moved through the crowds, his bark mask now covered by a simple, dark cowl he'd found draped over a forgotten clothesline outside Oakhaven. He was no longer covered in mud, having cleansed himself in a cold stream, his old summoning robe now a utilitarian grey cloak. He kept his head down, his senses alert, drinking in the sights and sounds. The sheer volume of people and mana in one place was almost overwhelming.
[Current Power Level: 720 (Slightly Satiated)]
[Warning: High concentration of mana signatures detected. Stealth is advised.]
The Void within him pulsed, excited by the sheer buffet of energy. Every mage that passed him, every glowing artifact in a shop window, represented a potential meal. But Ren's focus was singular: the Forbidden Archives. He knew such a place would be heavily guarded, locked away beneath the palace itself.
He ducked into a bustling marketplace, letting the ebb and flow of the crowd conceal him. Merchants yelled, children laughed, and a bard in a nearby tavern plucked a merry tune on a lute. Yet, amidst the cheerful din, Ren heard whispers.
"—heard it from a merchant caravan, by the Gods! The King's own guard, cut down in Oakhaven!"
"And their weapons gone? Magic sucked dry, they say. Like a ghost… a 'Ghost of the Dead Forest' they call him."
"Pah! Probably just some strong beast. Our Heroes will deal with it. They're feasting in the Golden Hall tonight, preparing for the campaign against the Demon Lord."
Ren's masked face remained impassive, but a cold satisfaction settled in his chest. The bounty. It had already reached the capital. Good. It meant the King was rattled. And it meant more opportunities for Ren to collect "fuel."
He continued to navigate the labyrinthine streets, seeking information. The library, he surmised, wouldn't be openly advertised. He needed to find a less conspicuous source. He eventually found himself near the outer walls of the sprawling Royal Palace, a fortress within a city.
The palace itself was a spectacle of white marble and gold, adorned with statues of ancient heroes wielding long-forgotten magic. Tonight, its grandest windows blazed with light, and the sounds of music and laughter drifted from within. The "Hero's Banquet" was clearly in full swing.
Ren knew he shouldn't linger, but a morbid curiosity, a desire to see the faces of those who had discarded him, pulled him closer. He found a discreet alleyway that offered a partial view of one of the illuminated courtyards. And there they were.
Miya, radiant in a gown of shimmering white silk, her golden hair woven with precious jewels, stood beside the King himself. Her presence alone seemed to outshine the ornate chandeliers. She laughed, a bright, clear sound that reached Ren even from his hidden vantage point. She looked utterly at home, adored by all, a true goddess in this new world.
Then he saw Kaito. The fire amplitude bully was draped in fine crimson and gold, boasting loudly to a group of knights, a goblet of what looked like expensive wine in his hand. Lucas and Riven were nearby, trying to look important, preening under the attention. John, ever the quieter one, stood a little apart, yet he too wore the symbols of his new status. Even Sera, the Elite Healer, was surrounded by priests, her gentle smile radiating warmth.
They were all there. His former classmates. The "Heroes."
Ren felt nothing. No surge of anger, no desire for revenge. Just a profound sense of detachment. They were playing their part in this world's grand illusion, while he was merely trying to find the exit. Their lives here were as alien to him as his own had become.
As he watched, a group of younger knights approached Miya, bowing deeply. Ren listened, his Hollow Step skill muting even the subtle rustle of his cloak.
"Lady Miya," one knight murmured, "the scouts report strange activity near the Dead Forest. Rumors of a 'Ghost' or an 'Unknown Lord' attacking our patrols. Should we dispatch a task force to secure the area?"
Miya frowned, a delicate crease appearing between her brows. "A ghost? Nonsense. It is likely just a particularly vicious beast. Our focus must remain on the Demon Lord. Perhaps Kaito and his unit can clear the area once the banquet concludes."
Kaito, overhearing, scoffed. "A few common bandits causing a fuss. I'll burn them out of their holes. No need to trouble the Saintess with such trivial matters."
Ren felt a strange tremor within him, a mix of grim amusement and cold resolve. Trivial matters. They would dismiss him as a beast or a bandit. They would never consider that the "Defect" they had thrown out had come back.
He turned away from the shimmering lights of the palace. He had seen enough. Their world was not his world. Their glory was not his concern. He had to find the archives.
He spent the next few hours meticulously observing the palace's perimeter. He noticed the changing of the guard, the subtle magical wards woven into the outer walls, and the specific patrols that led to the various wings. The archives, he correctly surmised, would be under the most stringent security, likely beneath the main library in the scholarly wing.
As dawn approached, Ren found a quiet spot near a small, neglected garden behind the scholarly wing. He watched as a lone, elderly scholar with spectacles thicker than his fingers exited a small, unassuming door and headed toward the main palace. The door clicked shut behind him.
This was it.
[Skill Activated: Hollow Step]
Ren became one with the predawn shadows. He moved with a grace that defied his former awkwardness, a quiet hunter closing in on his prey. He reached the door, its old wood groaning softly as he tested the handle. It was locked, of course, with an intricate magical seal.
Ren placed his palm against the cold wood, focusing the Void within him. He wasn't trying to break the lock or pick it. He was trying to consume it.
[Skill Activated: Mana Devourer (Level 2)]
A faint, purple glow emanated from the door as the magical energy binding it began to seep into Ren's hand. It took longer than the soldiers' spears; this was a static, powerful enchantment. He felt the cold energy fill him, pushing his power level higher.
[Current Power Level: 950 (Slightly Satiated)]
With a soft click, the magical seal shattered. The old, wooden door creaked open, revealing a dark, dust-filled corridor that smelled of ancient paper and forgotten spells.
Ren stepped inside, letting the door swing shut silently behind him. He was in. The capital, the palace, the "Heroes"—they were all just stepping stones on his path. He had no desire to burn this world down, but he would strip it bare if that's what it took to go home. The Unknown Lord had arrived.