Bang! The ground was struck, forming a shallow pit. The Red Wolf kicked off with its front paws, its sharp teeth grazing Throne's nose, the foul stench of blood stimulating his brain.
"Don't you ever brush your teeth?" Throne raised his hand to slash, but felt no tactile sensation of hitting a solid body. The Red Wolf leaped back quickly and then began circling him.
He stood in place, watching this hyperactive Red Wolf jump back and forth. After a few seconds, he suddenly rolled to the side.
Swish, swish. Several magic glintswords flew over. The Red Wolf was also capable of magic; seeing its target roll to dodge, it kicked off hard with its hind legs. In an instant, that wide-stretched bloody maw snapped down fiercely.
Its gums felt a twinge; it had caught nothing but air.
Where is he??
Melina had already slaughtered the wild wolves. She watched as Throne first vanished, then appeared several meters above the Red Wolf's head, holding his blade with both hands and slashing down violently!
Moonlight Slash!!
Magic power formed a blade several meters long. Forget a Red Wolf, even a knight in full heavy armor would be split open.
The azure sword light flashed and vanished, followed by a mournful cry.
Puchi—
Blood gushed out like a fountain. Even with an emergency dodge, nearly half of the Red Wolf's neck had been torn open. It jumped back with its tail between its legs, while the swordsman, half-kneeling on the ground, extended his left hand.
"Come back."
His words became law. A purple glow of gravity pulled the mid-air target back. What awaited the Red Wolf was not a gentle embrace, but a fierce sword light.
Puchi! Stabbing through the chest, the slender magic energy pierced out from its back. The Red Wolf struggled a few times before finally going still. As blood surged, Throne raised his foot and kicked the corpse off the cliff.
Swish—
With a flick of his right hand, Throne looked at the mirror-bright Moonveil, secretly sighing at what a fine blade it was. War Counselor Iji was indeed a top-tier blacksmith. He had enhanced this famous blade almost to its limit. Combined with the double-strengthened magic blade, its sharpness was peerless.
"Why did you run over here to kill a wolf?" Melina asked, wiping blood from her cloak, feeling somewhat bewildered.
Throne glanced at her and asked casually, "Don't you find it strange?"
"It is a bit. That Red Wolf didn't seem to have much hostility toward me; it doesn't make sense." The young girl became troubled. The Red Wolf wasn't weak; it would have taken her some effort to deal with it.
"If it doesn't make sense, don't overthink it." Throne didn't intend to let Melina know too much. Shouldering his blade, he walked deeper into the Royal Grave. "Let's continue. The blade testing isn't over yet; there's a weakened prey inside."
Melina pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and hurried to catch up. Soon, she saw some strange insects crawling around the center of the tombstones.
They had slender bodies as if pieced together from stones, and heads like lamps that emitted a pale purple light.
"An Evergaol?!"
"Yeah. The one inside has a very good affinity with me; I have to ask it for a favor." Throne stood in the center of the gaol; he knew exactly what was sealed within. "Remember to leave him alive later. I want to ask for some guidance."
Guidance? Asking for guidance with a blade in hand? Melina had many complaints she couldn't voice, but then the light flared up, and she was pulled into a singular space.
The seal of the space meant no one could leave unless the prisoner died. Generally, those imprisoned within were powerful beings. Her muscles began to tense, while Throne looked completely relaxed.
To him, this was an inevitable part of the process. He had leveled up enough; it was time to clear the map.
The white mist closed in like walls, carving out a narrow arena fit for a deathmatch. Intruders either died here or killed the prisoner trapped within.
Evergaols—prisons designed for spirit bodies. Their physical forms had long since crumbled to dust, leaving only souls to suffer eternal torment. Madness was the only certainty for those sealed inside.
But a spirit was still just a spirit, weaker than its living counterpart. Their consciousness fractured, erratic, making them perfect subjects for study.
Melina spotted a cluster of purple light ahead and swallowed hard. "What exactly did the Carian Royal Family seal away?"
"A visitor from the stars," Throne answered, casual, detached. "Probably captured during the ancient war."
He'd asked Ranni once, but she'd only responded with riddles. It didn't matter. The Onyx Lord's origins were irrelevant as long as it served his purpose. His blade scraped against the floor, sparks flying in its wake.
As Throne approached, a shadow emerged from the purple light, solidifying under his gaze. Soon, it took shape—a spirit body clutching a greatsword, slender-framed, balding. Black smoke curled from its form, a tyrannical aura crashing toward them.
The Alabaster Lord.
Throne didn't care about its connection to Radahn's teacher, the so-called Onyx Lord. He gestured toward Melina with a tilt of his chin. "Go on."
"Why me?"
"Because I need to calm my mind and study its Gravity Magic." Throne smirked as the Alabaster Lord raised its greatsword and slashed down.
The floor shattered into a shallow pit.
The attack was slow, clumsy, no real threat. But the purple shield that followed slapped him back—a Gravity Barrier. Faster than he'd anticipated. Throne landed lightly several meters away.
Purple lightning flashed, illuminating his face. A black hole appeared within the gaol, and from it, black-purple orbs surged toward him like meteors.
This was it—high-level Gravity Magic: Meteorite.
Unlike his own crude technique of gathering earth into chunks, these were actual meteorites, summoned from the void of space. The difference was staggering.
Boom, boom, boom, boom...
Each impact shook the gaol, forcing Throne to retreat again and again.
He glanced up. The three-meter-tall figure was already beside him, greatsword raised high.
Clang! A short blade intercepted the strike. Perhaps because it was a spirit, the Alabaster Lord's strength wasn't as overwhelming as expected.
Melina leaped gracefully, driving a kick into its chest to knock it back, then surged forward to engage.
In truth, there was no such thing as loot dropping from defeated enemies. The Alabaster Lord was stripped bare, hardly the type to hide a magic book.
But that didn't stump Throne. He withdrew from the fray, watching Melina dance around the raging spirit. Stroking his chin, he observed closely.
"That grab… Gravitational Solidification. The magic frequency aligns with gravitational waves. The Meteorite spell must involve tearing a rift briefly to summon them."
Throne's foundation was solid, his experience vast. He could see the essence of the magic at work.
Of course, he didn't have a photographic memory; he needed this kind of close-range observation to slowly adjust the frequency of his Gravity Magic.
The Alabaster Lord wasn't weak. Melina was exhausted, holding back just enough to keep it in check. Just as her patience frayed, Throne's voice cut through.
"Back off."
Without hesitation, she leaped out of range.
She watched as the Alabaster Lord drove its greatsword into the earth, splitting the ground and tearing open a rift in space. Her stomach dropped. Purple meteorites cascaded from the sky, filling the air with deadly shards.
Throne lifted his hand, and a faint glimmer of starlight flickered before her. An azure barrier surged outward, colliding with the meteorites. The projectiles lost their trajectory, scattering wildly in every direction.
Thops's Barrier couldn't stop physical objects, but it disrupted Gravity Magic entirely.
Before the Alabaster Lord could process what was happening, a golden greataxe spiraled toward it. The creature raised its blade in a desperate defense.
The clash rang out—metal against metal. The greataxe ricocheted into the air, propelled by the combined force of the Gravity Barrier and the greatsword. The Alabaster Lord stumbled backward.
Its gaze snapped upward. A 'black hole' hovered above the swordsman's head, drawing the purple meteorites inward. They crashed down in a deafening barrage.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Dust engulfed the Alabaster Lord, burying it in a cloud of debris.
Melina stood frozen, her combat stance rigid, her eyes wide as she stared at the man before him. His black ponytail swayed gently as he turned.
Throne yanked the greataxe from the ground and slung it over his shoulder.
"See? Just like that, I've learned it."
......
Atop the magic rise, Ranni didn't bother investigating the commotion disturbing the ancestors' rest. She glanced at the scattered gravestones and let out a soft, exasperated sigh.
Here I am, worrying myself sick, and he's off gallivanting with that person, treating it like some kind of game.
She wouldn't criticize him, though. Annoyance aside, she knew better.
She had the broader battle under control. Throne using this time to grow stronger wasn't a mistake.
'I didn't expect the remnants from before could still prove useful.' She saw the flash from the Evergaol and knew Throne had entered. The outcome was a foregone conclusion.
If he couldn't defeat an Alabaster Lord that had been imprisoned for who knows how long, he wouldn't deserve to make those grand claims of his.
"Princess." A Carian Knight stood in the center of the room, his voice breaking the silence. He had no idea what Ranni was thinking. Having been away for years, the Princess had always struck him as enigmatic, regal, and wise.
"My apologies, Moongrum, for summoning you back so abruptly. I hope you won't hold it against me." Ranni turned to face him, her expression icy.
The knight quickly assured her he 'wouldn't dare,' adding, "The Raya Lucaria Academy has been eager to remove me. Recently, they even allowed a Tarnished entry, likely targeting me. I'm not afraid of death, but if I die for nothing, who will protect Her Majesty the Queen?"
Moongrum had been the Carian Knight guarding the Grand Library. His strength and loyalty were unmatched, and the Academy had never managed to deal with him. Now, with the balance of power shifting and war looming, the sorcerers had finally decided to act.
They were preparing to seal the gates, but the knight left on his own accord, leaving them no reason to stop him.
"You've worked hard all these years," Ranni said, her tone as cold as the Dark Moon.
"It is my duty. However, this way, Her Majesty the Queen's safety cannot be guaranteed." The knight knelt on one knee, his head lifted with stubborn resolve. "This is more important than my life."
"So you still harbor some resentment toward me." Ranni's lips curved into a faint, imperceptible smile. She waved her hand gently. "I didn't call you back for safety concerns."
"Then why?"
Ranni didn't answer. Instead, she clapped her hands softly. "Come in."
The knight glanced to the side, bewildered. A bald man in full sorcerer robes entered the room. He looked nervous, quickly offering a sorcerer's salute.
"His name is Thops. He's the new head of the classroom appointed by my mother. Don't interrupt me; his research is enough to establish a sixth magic classroom. I'm sure the Academy's sorcerers have already experienced it firsthand."
What? The knight's jaw dropped.
He knew this person had developed a strange barrier—even a knight would call him a genius.
Queen Rennala had long since retreated into self-isolation. How could she possibly...
Creating a new magic classroom required more than the Dean's approval. It demanded votes from every professor.
Would those rebels dare to open the gates? To sit together in the grand conference room?
"Are you—"
"Yes. A small ruse." Ranni's eyes glinted. "Ordinary sorcerers don't know my mother's true state. They only know you've left the Academy. That excuse suffices."
The knight froze. Then his face split into a grin.
Truth be told, he'd resented Ranni. Resented all the demigods. When sorcerers revolted, they'd done nothing. Handed over the Royal Family's treasures like cowards.
Betrayal.
Only the Royal Family's recent war preparations had drawn his attention back.
"Have you finally decided to claim Caria?" The knight's gaze burned. For a Carian Knight, the greatest pain was losing their sovereign.
The Lunar Princess and the Queen of the Dark Moon were not the same.
"I intend to step forward. To shoulder more." Ranni's voice stayed calm, but the words carried weight. People had waited years to hear them.
Not everyone was like Blaidd or Iji—ready to sacrifice everything for her ideals.
Their loyalty belonged to the Carian Royal Family. Why die for Ranni's personal crusade?
Ten years ago, when the manor fell, Ranni had been just another conspirator hiding in shadows.
"By Caria's name, I swear my service to my King." The knight bowed. A Liurnian Wars survivor, yet confusion flickered behind his oath.
"Why now?" He studied her. "When you returned from Leyndell, I welcomed our new Queen with hope. You gave me no audience. Watched coldly as Caria crumbled."
Had Ranni called then, the Albinaurics would have rallied. The Trolls. The Misbegotten. Even the Glintstone Dragons.
With the Golden Order at its peak, they could've crushed the rebellion like insects.
"You waited years for this. Why hesitate when victory was simple? Why act now when the tide turns against us?"
"I wouldn't presume." Moongrum kept his head low. "You have your reasons. As evidenced by... this." He gestured at her doll-like form.
The fiery-haired warrior-princess was gone. Whatever she'd done had cost her dearly.
He was half-right.
Back then, Ranni had been fighting to escape the Two Fingers. An Empyrean candidate couldn't rule Caria. By the time she finished, no strength remained to reclaim the Academy.
The Two Fingers' assassins lurked everywhere. At the Golden Order's zenith, showing her face meant death.
By the time the Elden Ring shattered and the Order collapsed, she'd lost all interest in picking up the pieces.
The Lands Between meant nothing to her. She would leave soon enough.
Ranni didn't answer. Her gaze drifted to the window, where a man returned with his harvest.
He was the reason she'd chosen this hardest path.
The air crackled with tension.
Ranni's fingers pressed against the map, her touch lingering over Raya Lucaria Academy. Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet each word carried the weight of prophecy:
"It was a person who, through his efforts, gave me the opportunity to choose calmly."
A beat of silence. Then—
Her aura shifted, sharpening like a drawn blade.
"Then let us begin." The words hung in the air, charged with inevitability. "Let us embark together on this unforeseen path!"
But if given the chance, who would want to abandon everything—betray everything?