“Here it is! There’s a passage here!”

“We’ve found it! Ragnar… Gahk!”

“D-damn it! The passage is too narrow!”

The entrance to the underground crypt, concealed behind layers of rock, was difficult to locate even with prior knowledge.

Yet, the remnants of the Old Dragon Society’s forces managed to find their way to it.

However, the narrow and low passage made it impossible for them to enter en masse. One by one, they were ambushed and swiftly eliminated, significantly slowing their advance.

“Get in there already, you bastards! Can’t you see we’re stuck because of you?”

“Screw you! Why don’t you go first? Stick your head in and die first, why don’t you?”

“That’s your problem! Either charge in or get chopped up by those human butchers behind us!”

“Goddammit!”

The mercenaries of the Red-White Mercenary Corps wailed helplessly at the front lines.

Their leader had fallen out of favor with Bong Gong, leaving them with only the most dangerous and suicidal tasks.

While their commander promised redemption and even possible promotion to nobility if they performed well, the looming threat of death made their hands tremble.

Meanwhile, the Qing-Ak Brigade kept a watchful eye from outside the cave. If the mercenaries faltered any longer, they would be executed on the spot.

Whether we charge in or stay put, death is inevitable.

Faced with no other option, the mercenaries made their decision.

“Screw it all!”

Closing their eyes, they rushed into the passage, hoping that at least a few of them might survive by sheer luck.

These mercenaries, once considered elite even by imperial standards, were no match for Ragnar’s razor-sharp blades.

Slice! Slash!

Each of them was decapitated as soon as they entered.

“What are you doing? Keep moving!”

“Rose House, advance!”

Soldiers of the Rose House, carrying tower shields, advanced cautiously. They built a phalanx formation, with the second and third rows of spearmen ready to stab through any gaps.

“With these shields, we can withstand anything—even their sword aura! Overwhelm them with sheer numbers!”

Confident in their preparation, they believed their victory was certain. Unlike the foolish mercenaries, they had come prepared for battle.

What’s more, the enemy numbered only four.

Surely, with their overwhelming numerical superiority, they could crush them.

Step by step, like a creeping turtle, they moved forward. The sword aura that struck their shields shattered harmlessly.

Although some of them coughed up blood from the impact, the formation remained intact.

But then, frost began to spread across the ground, creating a thin sheet of ice.

A few soldiers slipped, slightly breaking their formation.

“What are you doing? Get back into position!”

It was a small opening, barely noticeable. But Ragnar didn’t miss it.

From above, Arin dropped down from the ceiling of the cave.

The shield bearers, specialized for long-range defense, were at a massive disadvantage in close combat.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

In an instant, blood sprayed as shield bearers’ throats were slashed, and the spearmen lost their hands, screaming in agony.

“Aaargh! My hands!”
“A ghost! It’s a ghost!”

Arin’s first move was to extinguish the torches the invaders carried. The darkness of the cave became her ally, amplifying the chaos.

As the front line crumbled, sword aura surged forth once again, wiping out the soldiers of the Rose House.

The ground became soaked with blood.

“Push forward! Don’t let up!”

“Look behind! We’ve pushed this far into the entrance. They must be tiring! Keep pressing!”

“Maintain the formation! Black Shadow Blade Group, search every corner! Wandering Knights, prepare for ambushes!”

Even with Ragnar’s superior skills and strategic use of terrain, they couldn’t fight an endless battle without rest.

The Old Dragon Society believed victory was within their grasp.

“Well, it looks like we’ll eventually break through this passage,” said Kant, the first knight of the Wandering Knights Union, also known as the “King Slayer.” He sighed heavily.

“Ha! But at what cost?” Barossa, the leader of the One Sword Society, laughed mockingly. White smoke curled from the cigar clenched in his teeth.

“This isn’t funny,” Kant retorted.

“Of course not! Do you think I’m taking this seriously? I’m laughing at my own stupidity for getting into this mess!” Barossa sneered.

“If I’d just stayed put, I’d be swimming in gold by now. But no, I had to go chasing after bigger scores and ended up betting on the wrong horse. Damn!”

The One Sword Society, despite its name, operated more like a criminal syndicate than a group of swordsmen.

They cultivated narcotic plants like daema and opium in the abandoned lands of the northern territories. With the Empire’s political instability and declining law enforcement, their operations thrived.

But their ambition was their downfall.

They’d allied with Ed, aiming to seize control of the lucrative trade routes between the North and East. Instead, they were now on the brink of ruin.

Barossa sighed again. “Let’s open the way first and argue later. It’s not like we have other options, do we?”

Kant frowned but eventually nodded. Barossa was right.

Schwing!

Kant slowly unsheathed his sword.

“For now, we survive.”

Boom!

Kant launched himself forward, intercepting Arin mid-swing.

Clang!

“Commander!”

“Scatter! Staying bunched up makes us easy targets! Find them, no matter what!”

“Yes, sir!”

The Wandering Knights Union, a guild of rootless knights who banded together for survival, moved with precision. Though they lacked loyalty, their skills and discipline rivaled those of any noble retinue.

They scattered, searching the labyrinthine cave for Ragnar’s warriors.

Meanwhile, Kant engaged Arin in a fierce duel.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, blocking her path.

“Out of my way!”

“Sorry, can’t do that. If we don’t kill you, we die.” Kant grinned bitterly, launching a relentless assault.

<Seven Gale Strikes>.

His ultimate technique unleashed a series of rapid, forceful attacks, chasing Arin as she tried to escape.

“I overextended. I should’ve retreated after taking out the shield bearers.”

The sheer number of enemies had tempted Arin to eliminate as many as possible. That greed was now costing her dearly.

And now she faced Kant, leader of the Wandering Knights Union—a formidable opponent who wouldn’t be easily defeated.

“Sorry, Shepherd, Ray. I might not make it back.”

Fwoosh!

Arin unleashed her latent magical power. A scorching wind swirled around her, dyeing her hair and eyebrows a fiery red, as if drenched in blood.

“Hm… Dragon’s Breath, is it? But weren’t all the Ragnar vassals who mastered that technique wiped out during the last rebellion?”

“If you’re so curious, ask in the afterlife,” Arin retorted, refusing to reveal her origins.

Kant nodded, slashing his sword with deadly force.

Clang!

***

“Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a forbidden area they could never locate?”

Shepherd turned and swiftly cut down two swordsmen from the One Sword Society who had attempted to exploit a blind spot.

“I don’t know how they found it!” Oade shouted, shoving away a blade aimed at her crown with a displeased expression. “Maybe some loudmouth among us spilled the beans!”

She was visibly irritated, her tone sharp as she continued:

“Hey! Don’t step on that! Do you even know what this place is?”

The underground crypt was a sacred space, where even the smallest objects held profound meaning. To Oade, who had taken on the role of its caretaker, seeing it desecrated in real time was enough to drive her mad.

It was the reason she had picked up her sword again—a weapon she had sworn never to wield after the events 30 years ago.

“That damn old man, Deungryong, would never let me hear the end of this. Damn it!”

But she had no choice.

This crypt was far more important than her pride.

“Do we have an escape route?”

“There’s no such thing! The entrance is the exit! It’s the only way!”

“So, we have to hold the line here, no matter what. Arin has to stay safe… until Theo gets here.”

“Theo? That kid who went to the central sanctum?” Oade didn’t miss Shepherd’s murmured words.

“Yes, him.”

“And what’s so special about him coming back? What changes?”

“Everything.”

Shepherd chuckled softly, recalling Theo’s handsome face.

“He’s a lucky charm. He’s never failed us once.”

Oade’s expression twisted into something unidentifiable, but Shepherd’s attention was suddenly drawn to a pale mist creeping toward his legs. Without hesitation, he swung his aura-laden blade downward.

Boom!

“Tsk. I tried to sneak up on you, but Ragnar’s warriors aren’t so easy to handle.”

The dispersed mist coalesced into a humanoid figure in midair, revealing Barossa, the leader of the One Sword Society. A cold smile spread across his lips, the cigar in his mouth trailing smoke that melded with his body.

His ultimate technique, <Smoke Strike>, allowed him to merge his body with the toxic smoke.

“I’ve met plenty of rats like you on the battlefields I’ve wandered.”

“Rats, you say? That’s harsh.”

Hiss!

The white smoke thickened, spreading like gas to fill the entire chamber in moments.

“Well, experiments on vermin are my specialty.”

<Smoke Strike – Toxic Mist>

Shepherd felt his vision blur, a splitting headache erupting as the air around him turned oppressive. Covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve, he quickly realized the smoke was laced with narcotics.

Breathing it in would be a one-way ticket to death.

「Humans can’t last long without breathing. The toxicity will only grow worse with time. What’s your plan now?」

Shepherd hesitated briefly. Should he reveal his ultimate technique?

He had hidden it for years, unwilling to be reminded of his past, but this wasn’t a moment to cling to pride.

As he turned to reposition himself, a voice cut through the smoke:

「Gardner’s Bite is famous for its tenacity, sinking into prey until they draw their last breath. But what if your prey strikes first?”

“An assassin!” Shepherd’s spine tingled at the sudden presence behind him.

A figure emerged from the shadows, face and body concealed in black fabric. It was a killer from the notorious Black Shadow Blade Group.

Realizing he couldn’t dodge in time, Shepherd braced himself to sacrifice an arm to block the fatal strike.

Ray, too, moved to intervene, but the assassin was faster.

Just as the blade was about to strike—

Boom!

A flash of lightning erupted from the ceiling, slamming into the assassin and sending them flying.

“Gah!”

The assassin, now scorched blacker than their attire, collapsed where they had landed.

Nearby, the Drakeblade trembled violently where it had embedded itself into the ground.

Buzz… Buzz…

“Theo!”

Shepherd and Oade turned toward the source of the lightning.