I slowly opened my eyes. The very first thing to greet my consciousness was the sharp scent of sulfur mixed with the metallic tang of dried blood atop this metal operating table.
I was still lying in the underground laboratory. The light from the crystal lamp shone directly into my face. Slowly, I attempted to lift my right arm.
The sensation was truly alien. This arm felt vastly heavier, denser, and numb. As I tried to bend my fingers and clench my fist, a loud creaking sound echoed from deep within my flesh. It was not the sound of a breaking bone, but the grinding friction of a new bone structure that was now as hard as forged steel.
Virelith, who sat in a chair with an exceptionally pale face and blackened eye bags, exhaled a heavy sigh of relief.
"Do not lift extreme weights immediately, Kael," the Engineer's voice sounded hoarse from exhaustion. She adjusted the position of her glasses. "Your arm bones now possess three times the density of a normal human. The parasitic Troll cells have fully assimilated, but your nervous system still requires time to adjust to the new mass."
I stared at my clenched fist, feeling the monster's strength slumbering beneath my skin. "I do not feel the pain anymore. You did a perfect job, Engineer."
Virelith had just opened her mouth to reply when the silence of the laboratory was forcibly shattered.
DONG! DONG! DONG!
An incredibly loud, heavy, and prolonged tolling sound echoed through the stone walls of the sewers. It was the Aethelgard Academy emergency bell, which was only rung in the event of a high-level military lockdown or a full-scale invasion.
My heartbeat instantly accelerated. The relaxed pacing within the room evaporated without a trace.
The ceiling of the laboratory, located directly beneath the academy's main street, began to vibrate violently. The rhythmic thud of armored boots from hundreds of Senate knights and instructors running in hasty formations could be heard above us. Through the stone crevices, flashes of bright blue light occasionally leaked through, indicating tracking magic being fired in all directions.
A feeling of entrapment, a suffocating claustrophobia, began to fill this cramped room. A massive hunting net was being cast right over our heads.
"What is happening up there?" Ragnar, who was sitting leaning against the wall with his bandaged left arm, also stood up. His face was tense.
Suddenly, the shadows in the corner of the room thickened and merged.
Selena Lune stepped out of the darkness. The girl was breathing slightly heavily, indicating a level of urgency she very rarely displayed, yet her crystal blue eyes implied a twisted sense of amusement.
"I highly suggest you do not leave this rat hole," said Selena quickly, brushing dust from her black dress. "All elite academy knights, the Student Senate battalion, and the instructors are being mobilized to every corner of Aethelgard."
I climbed down from the metal operating table. "What did Orvelis do? Did he violate Senate law openly?"
"It is not Orvelis," answered Selena, her thin smile turning into a cold smirk. "But Lord Valerius, the Direct Envoy of the Central Empire. Someone just robbed his carriage in the capital last night, severed his right arm completely, and stole his private auction items."
The temperature inside the laboratory seemed to plummet below freezing.
Ragnar, who had just recovered from the acid poison, instantly turned deathly pale. The giant man took a step back until his shoulders hit the potion shelf. His eyes widened in horror as he stared at Selena, and then shifted to look at me.
"The raven-masked man..." Ragnar's voice trembled violently. "The man who fired acid poison and whose arm I severed last night... that was the Imperial Envoy?"
Virelith held her breath, covering her mouth tightly with both hands.
Selena chuckled softly, a melodious sound that rang like a death knell for us. "Exactly. And right now, Lord Valerius is mobilizing the entire imperial fleet and the academy to hunt for a giant man utilizing golden Aura magic. Congratulations, primate, you have just become public enemy number one in all of Aethelgard."
A very cruel irony slapped my sanity. We had challenged the Dragon ruling the Forbidden Forest, and now, inadvertently, we had clipped the wings of the Raven from the Central Empire.
Ragnar realized that his physical features were far too specific. A giant physique, a greatsword user, and a golden Aura possessor. Hiding underground would not last long with imperial-caliber tracking magic continuously sweeping the area.
The street fighter clenched his healthy right fist and stepped forward approaching me. His scarred face was filled with desperate resolve.
"They will find us, Kael," said Ragnar with a heavy tone. "Their tracking magic will sniff out my Aura trail. If they find out I am working under your banner, Orvelis will use that excuse to execute all of you legally in public."
Ragnar knelt on one knee before me, bowing his head in submission.
"Just hand me over, Kael," pleaded Ragnar, his voice filled with painful sincerity. "Tell them that I acted alone, that I robbed that carriage out of my own greed. You will all be safe, and your cover will remain intact."
A heavy silence hung in the damp air. The sound of knights' footsteps on the ceiling above echoed increasingly close together.
I stared at Ragnar. Instead of feeling moved by his sacrifice, the pure anger of a General exploded in my chest.
My right hand shot forward. I seized the leather collar of Ragnar's cloak. With a single yank that required no significant effort, the monster strength of my new arm lifted the hundred-kilogram giant off the floor entirely.
SMACK!
I slammed Ragnar's body against the stone wall so hard that the entire room vibrated.
"Take back your words, Bear," I hissed as cold as ice. My red eyes looked straight into his shocked eyes. "Take them back."
Ragnar fell silent, staring at me with wide eyes, realizing that my physical strength now far exceeded ordinary human logic.
"I did not pick you up from poverty only to feed you to the executioner's axe when things go bad," I stated with an undeniable absolute authority. "Orvelis might sacrifice his subordinates as meat shields. But I am not him. On my battlefield, we go home together, or we die together. Not a single one of my dogs will be left behind."
I released my grip. Ragnar landed on his feet, swallowed hard, and nodded slowly with a newfound respect now etched deeply in his eyes.
Virelith adjusted her glasses and stepped forward to stand beside me.
"Kael is right," said Virelith pragmatically. "Mathematically speaking, surrendering Ragnar will only make Orvelis more suspicious. Orvelis is not stupid; he will trace where Ragnar got the auction information. We need a tactical solution, not a useless martyrdom."
I turned my body, pacing back and forth in the cramped room. My veteran brain spun at maximum speed. Fighting Lord Valerius and the imperial fleet head-on was suicide.
If you cannot fight the storm, you must redirect the wind.
A dark, cunning, and highly deadly idea flashed through my head.
"Lord Valerius is blinded by rage, and he needs a logical target to tear apart," I mumbled softly, piecing together the academy's geopolitical puzzle. I turned to look at Selena and Virelith. "Which faction is in the most desperate need of the incredibly expensive Troll Heart Marrow and Bone Scroll to resell on the black market?"
Virelith narrowed her eyes, beginning to understand the direction of my thoughts. "The faction whose potion supply route was just destroyed. The bankrupt faction."
"Nightbane," Selena grinned widely, laughing in awe at the sheer cunning of my plan. "Oh my, Draven. You want to frame Orvelis right before the eyes of the Imperial Envoy?"
"I will not just frame him. I will make those two monsters tear each other's throats out," I answered coldly. I looked at the Engineer. "Virelith, do you still have the remaining blood and acid poison from Ragnar's arm? Also the Black-Lotus residue from the clothes he wore to the East Sector?"
Virelith nodded quickly. "It is in the medical waste tube."
"Perfect," I smirked. "Forge some fake evidence for me. Dip a piece of cloth or an emblem bearing the Nightbane crest into that Black-Lotus residue and acid. Ensure the chemical composition is perfectly identical to the one fired by Lord Valerius's artifact."
"You want to plant that evidence at the capital robbery scene?" asked Ragnar in disbelief. "But there is a lockdown out there! Knights are everywhere!"
"Ragnar is strictly forbidden from leaving these sewers until I return. You will be dead bait if you are seen," I ordered, walking approaching the table where my weapons were placed.
"Then who will go through that knight barricade?" asked Selena, crossing her arms over her chest.
I did not answer. With my new right hand, I reached out and grasped the hilt of my giant Blood-Iron greatsword lying on the table.
The heavy steel sword, which I usually had to lift with two hands and a full waist rotation, I now lifted with just my right hand alone, swinging it as lightly as a wooden twig.
I sheathed the greatsword on my back, then pulled the hood of my gray cloak up to cover part of my face.
"I will be the one to go," I said calmly, listening to the heavy thuds of knight boots continuing to echo across the ceiling.
I smirked beneath the shadow of my hood, my eyes radiating the anticipation of a General about to set fire to the entire imperial chess board.
"Prepare yourself, Orvelis," I whispered softly to the void. "Let us see what happens when the Imperial Raven starts preying on the Aethelgard Dragon."