Found it.

That was the only thought that ran through Maxime’s mind. He held the report in his hands, reading the cover over and over again. This was the name he had been searching for so desperately, but he didn’t feel any relief. Seeing Christine Watson's name listed as the test subject on this experimental report numbed him. Maxime’s hand began to tremble as he turned the pages.

In-Depth Study on Rare Mana Compatibility

To elicit normal mana responses, the subject’s body is restored to standard parameters.

Maxime’s eyes scanned the report, fearing that the experiments had harmed her physically or mentally, or that she’d been tortured. With each word, each sentence, his heart raced, then stopped, over and over. Normally, he’d be worried that Adeline might pick up on his tension and the frantic beat of his heart, but right now, he couldn’t hide it if he tried.

Over a month, mana is gradually introduced in increasing concentrations to assess compatibility. Dark magic reactions will be evaluated after compatibility trials are concluded.

After reading that line, the first thing Maxime searched for was the experiment’s date. Hoping against hope that they hadn’t moved on to the next stage, he quietly murmured the date aloud.

“...Three days.”

Three days left. When the experiment concludes, he had to act immediately. He should go now, cut down every damn mage involved in this. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Veins stood out on the back of his hand, his black eyes filled with murderous intent. He needed to unsheathe his sword and head for the dungeon’s depths immediately.

Maxime had just drawn his sword halfway when—

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He almost drew it fully, but then Adeline’s voice brought him back to his senses. Her hand was weak, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke, forcing courage into her words.

“Calm down.”

The lava-hot anger in Maxime’s mind cooled rapidly. The negative emotions that had filled his head left an aching void in their wake. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could hear it in his ears. Every exhale was visible as his breath steamed in the cold dungeon air.

Maxime stowed the report inside his coat and turned to face Adeline. He could see faint white plumes of breath escaping her lips, too. Supporting himself with one hand on the desk, he tried to steady his swaying body, still gripped by the storm of his emotions.

He’d almost lost himself completely. He glanced down at the half-crumpled report. He couldn’t just rush in now. If he gave in to his emotions and recklessly rampaged through the dungeon, he wouldn’t just be risking Adeline’s safety. He’d likely end up as another corpse in these dungeons before he could save Christine.

No.

Maxime repeated it to himself. He wasn’t thinking straight. He needed to act rationally. The fastest way to rescue Christine would be to secure the king’s support and return to the dungeon with a plan in two days. Maxime felt the stickiness of his own blood on his hand. He’d clenched his fist so tightly that blood was dripping from between his fingers. The only thing that mattered now was that Christine hadn’t yet been harmed.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was rough, and he had to clear his throat. Adeline tilted her head toward the sound, trying to read his expression, but Maxime took a step back to keep his feelings hidden.

“Why were you so agitated?”

“I found some useful information. A report on an experiment. Nothing more.”

Of course, that explanation didn’t account for his reaction, but Adeline seemed hesitant to press him further, biting her lip. Maxime waved his hand to brush off her concern.

“The experiment details were troubling. I couldn’t forgive the mages for conducting such experiments.”

It was a flimsy excuse, but he didn’t want to dwell on the topic any longer. Right now, their priority was to escape from the dungeon unharmed.

“Let’s get out of here. How are you holding up? Can you walk on your own?”

Adeline shook her head in response.

“No need to worry. I’m just not sure I’ll be able to fight at full strength.”

Adeline seemed willing to overlook his attempt to change the subject, which was a relief to Maxime. Their immediate problem wasn’t the report, but escaping the dungeon.

“Even though we don’t know what other obstacles lie ahead, I can still handle a sword. I won’t be a burden.”

She braced herself, readying her resolve. Maxime, still uneasy, gave her an apologetic look. Was she still fighting for the Count? What was it that kept this tragic and precarious knight going?

He took a final deep breath. If they were going to find the exit before dawn, they couldn’t afford to waste any more time. With a quick glance back to make sure Adeline was following, Maxime left the room. The corpses of the synthetic creatures they’d fought still filled the air with their putrid stench. Maxime raised his head, expanding his senses to search for an exit, his brows furrowing.

“The air…”

“It’s coming from the left. To the right, it only goes deeper.”

Before he could finish, Adeline had already answered, tilting her head as if to question why he hadn’t moved. Maxime let out a hollow chuckle at how swiftly she’d identified the path.

“Let’s go left, then. That’s where the creatures I fought earlier crawled up from, so we’ll need to be cautious.”

Adeline nodded. Maxime began walking toward the left staircase. The entrance gaped like a dark maw, and faint light glimmered at the end of the stairs. He glanced back at the staircase leading down to the right, hesitating.

For now.

Maxime turned back to the left staircase, extending his senses to detect any traps. He couldn’t sense anything unusual. He looked over at Adeline, who was attuned to the dungeon’s presence.

“There don’t seem to be any traps, at least none that I can detect. Do you sense anything?”

Adeline shook her head, sounding uneasy about the lack of detection.

“No, nothing. I think it’s safe to go down.”

Her tone conveyed her mistrust. Maxime stole a glance at the mass of corpses surrounding them. It seemed whoever built this dungeon had relied on those synthetic creatures to fend off intruders.

It’s more surprising that someone could survive them.

With a quiet laugh at the mage’s bad luck, Maxime stepped onto the stairs. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, as if the dungeon’s chill was no longer holding back.

The staircase’s air was damp and heavy. The closer he got to the faint light, the more visible it became, like an eerie, mossy green glow. As he reached the bottom of the third basement floor, Maxime wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Impressive.”

On either side, giant glass tanks lined the corridor, with a path running down the middle. Most of the tanks, dozens at a glance, were shattered, leaking a viscous green fluid onto the floor. Adeline, having heard him describe the room, let out a quiet sigh.

“It’s an ominous place.”

Maxime nodded at her remark. The unbroken tanks contained dismembered parts of beasts, floating in the green liquid with their heads attached to metal tubes. The broken tanks must have held synthetic creatures. Maxime scanned the room carefully, alert for any remaining threats, then turned his gaze to where Adeline had come to a halt.

“What’s wrong?”

Maxime’s eyes landed on a massive glass tank hidden among the others.

“What is that?”

It was a tank big enough to hold five people. It, too, was shattered, with viscous green liquid dripping from the broken glass.

“There’s a lingering presence. Is something there?”

“There’s a tank large enough to hold several people. Do you sense anything?”

Adeline seemed to extend her senses further, then shook her head.

“Not at the moment… I think we should cross the corridor for now.”

Though the tank was suspicious, it wasn’t worth worrying over if Adeline couldn’t detect anything. Maxime cautiously crossed the corridor. The air flow became so pronounced that he could feel where it was coming from. As he neared the corridor’s end, the draft felt like a faint breeze.

“Oh.”

The corridor didn’t lead anywhere; instead, a narrow waterway emerged from the bottom of the wall, trickling with green slime. The wall stretched into another corridor. Maxime wrinkled his nose at the smell—not the decay of corpses, but the unmistakable odor of sewage.

“A sewer…”

Adeline muttered, and Maxime nodded in agreement. It was better than the smell of corpses, but it didn’t exactly invite deep breaths.

“Well, we’ve found an exit, but we’ll need to see if this leads to the royal sewer system…”

Maxime pondered breaking through the wall, resting his hand on it.

Thud.

The sound echoed from afar, and both Maxime and Adeline froze. It was the sound of something powerful slamming into a wall, followed by the rumble of collapsing stone.

“Arsen.”

“Yes, I felt it too.”

Adeline was already holding her sword, likely sensing the presence before Maxime. It was a presence far beyond any high-level beast they’d encountered. Whatever it was, it sensed them as well, closing in much faster than they were moving.

“I’ll go first.”

Maxime stepped in front of Adeline, who looked at him in confusion as he gently pushed her back.

“You’re not used to fighting in the dark…”

“I’ll be fine. You’re not in top condition, either.”

He calculated the distance and time in his head, unsheathing his sword. He had just enough mana left to enhance his body. He could make out the approaching figure, a bipedal creature like a werewolf from an old legend.

Or was it a werewolf?

He swallowed as he noticed its unnaturally long arms. With every breath, it growled like a feral beast. Unlike the crude synthetic creatures, it had a fully functioning vocal system.

As its claws came down, Maxime launched himself forward.

—

Adeline started to move but stopped herself. If she joined the attack, their sword strikes might hinder each other, giving the creature an advantage. She could still feel the lingering touch of Arsen’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

His unusually fierce expression, his words that seemed altered by emotion—it all overlapped with his current state.

Observe him.

The Count’s command still echoed in her mind. She had memorized everything about Arsen: his movements, his words, his shifting emotions, the tremor in his voice when he spoke her name.

This man, who should be a potential enemy, whose neck she should sever and deliver to the Count if ordered—yet he lingered in her thoughts with a strange intensity. Even his fleeting gestures seemed deeply etched into her mind.

Adeline. Sorry, just wait a little longer.

The memory of those words, the faint touch that lingered on her face, seemed to diminish the residual effects of dark magic that weighed on her.

No.

It was just a coincidence, just a mirage of thoughts and memories intertwined.

Ignoring her doubts about the Count and the strange impression Arsen left, Adeline gripped her sword hilt tightly. She didn’t need to think about it right now. She let her senses expand to encompass the entire fight. The pain in her eyes persisted, but her acute senses remained sharp.

Clang!

Adeline could tell from the sounds that Maxime and the beast were locked in combat. It sounded like a clash of swords, despite the monstrous nature of their opponent. She heard the shrill metallic screeching and the rapid slashing, the sort of noises you’d expect from a duel between swordmasters.

A monster with claws, large yet swift. Arsen isn’t struggling, but if I create an opening, he could finish it quickly.

Adeline made her calculations. In the confined space, she wouldn’t use her aura. As Arsen withdrew with a sharp metallic sound, Adeline slid low and approached the beast.

“Adeline…!”

She sensed Arsen’s shock as she slipped past him, feeling the monster’s intent lock onto her mid-charge. The dungeon’s chill, the weight of the ground beneath her feet—it all blurred as she swung her blade, drawing a single line across this world.

Swish.

She felt the blade slice cleanly, the fabric of flesh parting. Arsen froze briefly, then moved again as the werewolf’s right leg dropped to the floor.

End it.

As Adeline passed the creature, she whispered a command. She felt something strange stir in her heart, as if a distant memory was flickering in the corner of her mind.

Once, there had been a time like this.

As she was caught in this lingering memory, the sound of the werewolf being sliced into pieces filled the air.

Thud.

The pieces of the werewolf fell to the ground. Arsen’s presence drew closer, and Adeline looked up at him with a faint smile. She recognized the laughter she’d heard before, the hollow, weary sound.

“Your swordsmanship is impressive,”

Maxime said, and Adeline shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’s still lacking.”

The laugh came again, less bitter this time.

“Thank you for your help.”

At his words, Adeline sensed a different resonance in his voice and nodded slowly.

“Well then, let’s use the path that creature opened up to get out of here.”

Hand.

Adeline realized that Arsen had extended his hand to her. Almost hypnotized, she cautiously placed her hand over his. The sensation of his hand holding hers resonated with her.

As he led her, Adeline matched her steps to his, feeling their rhythms pulse together. Her mind, too tangled to unravel, drifted as she followed Arsen out of the dungeon.