The fire spread rapidly, bringing with it clouds of smoke.

Houses and buildings crumbled in every direction the eyes could see.

Shouts of despair echoed endlessly as people under mind control irrationally attacked anyone who was not affected.

With his sword still sheathed, Oliver struck down two men who lunged at him. In a swift motion, he enveloped his hand with a dense layer of mana, pulled the visitors’ hourglasses from their pockets, and shattered them before they could take full control.

Instantly, like marionettes with their strings cut, both men collapsed unconscious on the spot.

Moving quickly, he dragged their limp bodies into a nearby shop and secured the entrance as best as he could to keep them safe.

“It’s not just the visitors’ hourglasses—even the residents’ cards are making people attack one another!” Kasa shouted, using her shield to block a runaway carriage barreling toward them.

“To cast a spell this massive over the entire city... this is madness,” Oliver replied, guiding a nearby family that had managed to resist the control into their home. He instructed them to barricade their doors for safety.

“If this continues, Caligo will be reduced to rubble before the day is over.”

His expression darkened with worry as their group continued navigating the chaotic streets.

“Oliver, please tell me you have a plan.” Davi’s gaze darted nervously toward the alleys running parallel to the main street, where smaller fires were already spreading unchecked.

“I want to believe that not everyone is under Velmont’s control and that there are still people fighting to contain the situation. But in the worst-case scenario, even the Mercenaries’ Guild has fallen. If that’s true, we’ll have to resolve this ourselves,” Oliver said grimly, his eyes fixed on the massive fortress perched at the city’s highest point.

Even though they were still recovering from their fight with Selene during their time under Velmont’s control, the group was physically far more capable than ordinary civilians. This allowed them to move quickly through the chaotic city, taking shortcuts through alleys and across rooftops.@@novelbin@@

However, Oliver knew what they needed to do wouldn’t involve everyone in their group.

Stopping abruptly at a narrow street intersection, Oliver turned to face his mother, who was cradled in Cleomel’s arms. A storm of mixed emotions flickered across his face as he spoke.

“If everyone with a resident’s card or hourglass is affected by Velmont’s magic, no place in the city will be completely safe. The Bridge of Connection is likely our best chance. Cleomel, take my mother and leave the city!”

His tone carried an undeniable urgency.

Though he wished he could keep his family close, he knew he couldn’t bring his mother into the heart of the chaos. Trusting her protection to one of the people he held in highest regard, Oliver locked eyes with Cleomel, whose determined nod served as her silent agreement.

“Wait, Oliver, come with us!”

The only one who couldn’t agree with this was the one being protected.

Still cradled in Cleomel’s arms, Abelia panicked and grabbed her son’s arm. Her legs had not yet regained their full strength, but as a mother desperate to protect her family, she clung to him with all her might, unwilling to let him leave.

Even in the face of his mother’s worried and desperate expression, Oliver knew this was something he couldn’t avoid.

“Aunt Selene entrusted us with Velmont’s position while she held off all the academy’s students on her own. Someone has to stop all of this.”

Holding his mother’s trembling hand, Oliver shook his head slowly, his gaze filled with unwavering determination.

“You’ve always taught me that we protect others not because it’s our duty, but because it’s the right thing to do. If I back down and run away now, I’ll be going against everything I believe in.”

Gradually, the strength of Abelia’s trembling hand holding his arm began to fade. Her tear-filled obsidian eyes locked onto his.

“Be careful, please.”

Abelia knew her son wouldn’t change his mind. Just as she was a stubborn woman who would face the entire world to protect her children, her children would fight to uphold what they believed was right.

Holding Abelia even tighter in her arms, Cleomel gave Oliver one final nod before turning and running.

Watching his mother and mentor disappear into the chaos of the streets, Oliver clenched his fists, fortifying his resolve before turning away.

“Let’s go.” His words were spoken softly, but the weight of them was palpable to those at his side.

With renewed urgency, the trio advanced swiftly through the chaotic streets toward the central district. As they got closer, it was no longer just civilians standing in their way, but heavily armed guards.

There was no time to fight everyone or interrogate them for information. This was a race against time.

A sharp sound echoed through the city in turmoil as Oliver finally unsheathed his stardust blade. Mana swirled around his body as he carved a path forward with his strength alone. Attack after attack, Oliver forged a route through the guards for his companions to follow.

“Follow me! We can’t waste any time!” Oliver shouted, his obsidian eyes locked on their objective ahead.

Dodging another group of guards, Oliver began scaling the large wall in a series of quick jumps. When he finally reached the top, a cold stone mansion—so imposing it could be considered a fortress or castle—rose before them.

The biting cold wind hit them, cutting through the thick mist. Because the city was built on a hill, the elevation increased as they approached the central district. From where they stood, almost the entire city was visible below, with smoke clouds rising amidst a cacophony of screams.

“This is going to be a problem,” Davi muttered, his eyes scanning the castle grounds ahead.

Armed and armored soldiers were stationed throughout the castle gardens. Inside the walls, where chaos didn’t seem to reign like it did in the streets, there would be no way to avoid a direct confrontation.

“It’s fine, I’ll—”

But before Oliver could finish his sentence, a hand rested on his shoulder.

Turning to the side, the swordsman met Kasa’s serious gaze as the latter slowly shook his head.

“We’ll serve as a distraction and clear a path. You’re already exhausted—if you waste more energy here, you won’t stand a chance against a Two-Star Mage,” Kasa said firmly, his determination unwavering.

“For a thickhead, Kasa’s got a point. Leave this to us and move ahead,” Davi added with a confident grin, pulling his club from his waist.

“You guys...” Oliver froze for a moment, stunned by his companions’ willingness to stay behind so he could press forward.

But as if to show that their decision wasn’t up for debate—even from their leader—both men gave him a firm slap on the back.

A small, determined smile formed on Oliver’s face. Adjusting his battle attire, he turned to face the castle gardens. As he had said before, there was no time to waste.

Leaping from the wall into the castle grounds, the trio charged toward the group of guards.

With fierce resolve burning in his eyes, Kasa raised his shield, blocking the onslaught of long-range spells raining down on them. A large, translucent green barrier shimmered into existence, standing like an unyielding wall.

“Now!” Kasa shouted, and Oliver sprinted through the guards’ formation while Davi intercepted anyone who got too close.

Gathering mana into his blade, Oliver swung it in a wide horizontal arc. The resounding crack of splintering wood echoed through the area as the castle gates shattered, and the young swordsman pressed on inside. None of the dozens of guards dared follow beyond that point, with his companions holding the line at his back.

The interior of Velmont’s castle was as cold and foreboding as its exterior. Dark walls and gray floors blended into an atmosphere so morbid that even the air felt heavier.

The castle was vast, yet there wasn’t a single servant in sight. Even after ascending several flights of stairs, Oliver hadn’t encountered another guard.

When a mage didn’t bother concealing their mana, it was easy to track them. Despite the invasion of his estate, Velmont made no effort to hide his presence, as if openly daring Oliver to find him.

Though his heart was uneasy, Oliver pushed forward, racing through countless corridors until he reached an imposing set of double doors.

The doors appeared even sturdier than the gates at the entrance, yet they weren’t locked. Placing both hands on them, Oliver pushed them open slowly. A chilling air seeped through the gap, and as he stepped inside, an overwhelming sense of dread consumed him.

The room was abominable—not just because of its grotesque contents but because it radiated an unspeakable horror.

It was a place steeped in death, a putrid tension so suffocating that it felt impossible for a sane mind to endure without breaking.

Horned bears, ice foxes, clawed bats, and fiery lizards—these were just some of the monsters that filled the colossal throne room.

Fresh blood stains marred the pillars supporting the structure, the metallic stench so potent it clung to Oliver’s senses.

Lining the walls, humans and demi-humans alike stood motionless, their empty gazes staring blankly ahead like puppets awaiting commands.

“Velmont, stop this madness immediately!” For the first time in his life, Oliver marveled that his body could still move.

At the far end of the room, surrounded by bloodthirsty creatures, stood a lone man. Draped in a billowing black cape, Velmont casually fiddled with a pedestal, indifferent to his visitor.

“Second Prince, what an unpleasant surprise to have you here on such a delightful day,” Velmont said, tipping the brim of his hat as he turned toward Oliver. His sharp green eyes studied the trembling swordsman with detached curiosity. “Normally, I’d follow proper etiquette and offer you my finest tea, but you don’t seem to be in the mood for pleasantries, do you?” He raised a gloved hand to his chin, one eyebrow arching in mock concern.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you bastard!” Oliver shouted, fighting to suppress the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. Despite his unsteady steps, he surged forward.

Velmont let out a disappointed sigh. Gathering mana around himself, he moved to personally "entertain" his uninvited guest.

Stardust clashed with Stardust, but the outcome was evident even before a second strike could be delivered.

A powerful impact hurled the young swordsman against the wall, expelling all the air from his lungs in one blow, leaving his body burning as if engulfed in flames.

“Argh... Aaah... Aaah...” Oliver gasped, struggling to regain his breath. The pain coursing through his body clouded his desire to escape the death-filled room.

“We still have some time, so I suppose I can indulge you with a conversation.” Sheathing his rapier, Velmont turned his back on the struggling prince and began to walk leisurely. “Tell me, Prince, what do you think of the way people survive nowadays?”

Brushing the dust off his shoulder, Velmont wandered among the throng of monsters.

“S-Survive...?” Oliver’s voice was heavy as he forced his battered body to rise.

“Yes. Surviving isn’t the same as living, is it? Give a man a glass of water, and he’ll survive for three days. Increase his water supply and offer him a piece of meat, and he’ll last a month. No matter how you look at it, he’s surviving—but is that truly living?” Velmont’s voice carried an almost philosophical tone, his face partially obscured under the shadow of his hat, the dim light in the room making his expression hard to discern.

“Cut the riddles. Hiding your words like this makes no sense! What does one thing have to do with the other?” Oliver shouted, his frustration spilling over.

“Free will is a curse.” Velmont’s response was brief, his green eyes scanning the expansive hall.

At those words, even Oliver froze.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know what the surname Sunshard represents?” Adopting a theatrical tone, Velmont placed a gloved hand over his chest while gesturing with his other hand toward a specific point in the room.

Following Velmont’s outstretched hand, Oliver noticed the multicolored stained-glass window shaped like a sun on the wall opposite the entrance.

“The family that once protected a city by one of the most majestic lakes. In the mornings, the sunrise reflected on its surface was so breathtaking that to any observer, it was as if a fragment of the sun itself resided there.”

Velmont resumed his pacing, his fingers brushing the hilt of his rapier.

“When the first king ordered all to submit to his rule, when every other family abandoned their people to move beyond the mist and live under the sun, the Sunshard family alone remained faithful to their vow to protect their people, staying behind.”

He sighed, his piercing gaze meeting Oliver’s.

“Tell me, Second Prince, do you truly believe life within the mist is living? Children spend their early years never tasting a single fruit. Their bodies grow so frail from the lack of vitamins that many don’t survive into adolescence. So many attempt to build a life here, only to meet the same insignificant end as everyone else.”

He spoke as if his words carried a pain he could no longer bear.

"I commend the work of people like Selene, for example. Using her authority as a two-star mage to allow young individuals to go beyond the mist. I once thought the same way. But one or two people every handful of years—does that really change anything?"

He brought one of his hands to his heart, his cape fluttering behind him.

“With free will, we can dream. That’s the doctrine the capital enforces. Yet everyone born within the mist dreams of escaping it. The very possibility of longing for what we cannot attain is what traps those born here in endless suffering.”

Oliver’s expression twisted in revulsion, as though the words he heard were too abhorrent to bear.

“So that’s what you want? To control your people and decide for them what happiness is?” Oliver shouted, punching the air in front of him with his fist clenched. “You’re kidnapping and killing the same children you claim to care about! How does that make you any different from the king?!”

“No war has ever been won without sacrifices, young man. My people will live in the light of day while those in the capital remain in darkness. All those who gave their lives for this will be remembered as heroes—heroes the first king never was.”

Velmont spoke plainly, his hands busy adjusting his clothing, his gaze indifferent as if discussing something mundane.

“She taught me what I should have already known: everything in this world depends on strength. It doesn’t matter what methods are used to obtain it. As long as I possess strength, I will be the one who is right in the end.”

Hearing the man’s words, Oliver’s expression twisted with confusion.

“She...?” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but still caught by the man.

“Have you ever felt it? The presence of something so overwhelming that nothing you do seems to matter? She taught me there’s no point in hiding within the mist, obeying a king who cares for no one but himself. Humans are nothing more than insects compared to the true power that governs this world. With her power, the Mage Tower, the capital—none of it will stand against me.”

For the first time, Velmont’s voice shifted. Anger, sadness, bitterness, and joy—dozens of emotions swirled together as he spoke.

“...You... You’ve gone insane, haven’t you?” Oliver struggled to find the right words in front of the man. He couldn’t make sense of what Velmont was saying.

“Call it insanity if you wish. The preparations are nearly complete.” Velmont extended a hand toward the altar, his fingers tracing a single object resting upon it.

The black sphere was the size of a fist, yet the ominous pulse it emitted was enough to send chills deep into Oliver’s core. Blueish glimmers danced across its surface, the sheer concentration of mana radiating an almost unbearable pressure.

Oliver might not have understood what it was, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. Gripping the hilt of his sword with both hands, he summoned a fierce gale of wind to gather around the blade. Like a brewing storm, the air pressure dropped, and the wind howled ominously.

“If you try to attack again, I won’t show any mercy this time,” Velmont warned, his hand resting on his rapier as his piercing gaze locked onto Oliver. Around him, the monsters advanced, ready to protect their master.

But the young swordsman would not retreat—not now. Even if it cost him his life, this was a battle he was determined to fight. With resolute conviction, he charged forward.

“[Heavenly Gale]!”