“Uh, u-uh... I-I don’t kn—”

    “I feel like if I stabbed you right here, you’d remember.”

    Even in his blackout state, the oppressive, chilling presence unique to a Dragonblood lingered in Kiaros.

    “If that doesn’t jog your memory, I’ll just try stabbing somewhere else.”

    He hadn’t even gone through many threats yet when the Guardian, trembling violently, shouted:

    “T-the underground! He’s in the underground! Western underground...!”

    Kiaros knocked the Guardian out with a precise blow to a vital point.

    Then he quickly changed into the Guardian’s clothes.

    If it weren’t for this blackout, I could’ve crushed this entire operation single-handedly...

    But now, as nothing more than a strong human, he had to resort to disguise.

    He glanced in a mirror. A young man with black hair and dark eyes stared back, dressed in the black suit of a Modification Faction Guardian.

    Hurry. Quickly.

    Now that he was walking through the building, no one paid him any mind. The eastern side of the building was in chaos, and everyone was on edge.

    Namia, I...

    Even as he moved steadily, his heart pounded. The thought that Namia might be here made his blood surge.

    I miss you so much...

    The warmth that had pressed in close inside that cramped storage room, the relaxed gaze that met his eyes with a smile, and the secret urges that flared every time...

    It’s only been two days... but it feels like forever.

    Because they’d spent every moment together. Only now did he realize—even then, it hadn’t been enough. He had always been thirsty ? ? (Don’t copy, read here) for more.

    Kiaros headed straight for the western underground. He easily subdued two guards, knocked them out, and began descending the long, dark stairs.

    ***

    At that moment, in the Grand Temple’s eastern conference room—

    “Give me back my daughter!”

    With a crashing sound, a wall burst open as an old man rampaged into the room.

    “My little Aran! She’s got such a good heart at the core!”

    The Modification Faction executives, who had just rushed into an emergency meeting over the maze breach, were completely blindsided.

    “She just made bad friends! So if we break her friends first, everything’ll be fine, won’t it?!”

    The executives had no idea the Tower Lord had followed them here.

    They had assumed that if the Tower Lord knew Aran was here, he would’ve called the Dragonbloods for help.  Sёarch* The novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But the Tower Lord was a thoroughly selfish man who consistently defied common sense.

    “Stop the scrolls first! The magic—ghuaaargh!”

    One executive who tried to seize the Tower Lord’s scroll bag was instantly struck down with a staff.

    The Tower Lord was just as skilled with physical combat as he was with scrolls.

    “My Aran! She’s just lazy! That’s all! Her heart is good!”

    “Guhhk! Cough—cough!”

    Executives began dropping like flies.

    In the meantime, the Tower Lord’s scrolls also began to activate, forming defensive barriers around him.

    The effects themselves weren’t overwhelming, but combined with the Tower Lord’s raw physical ability, the synergy was explosive.

    “Stop him!”

    Vivers barked at the Guardians as he backed away.

    His mind was racing.

    If that old man’s broken in, it means the Dragonbloods must know where our base is. The Magic Tower and the Imperial Family are allies, after all.

    If the Dragonbloods arrived, it would be over.

    But the Emperor was supposedly ill, and Kiaros was in a blackout. So perhaps there was still hope.

    Southern forces will probably arrive soon too, but...

    That old man was after just one person: Aran.

    Realizing that, Vivers’s expression darkened.

    He quietly slipped out of the chaotic meeting room.

    There were many executives in the Modification Faction, but only Vivers knew all the secret passages in this ancient, labyrinthine temple.

    ***

    Deep within the underground prison—

    A dark and shadowy corridor, reachable only by descending countless stairs. Aran came here often.

    Ever since the High Priest had reported, “We’ve acquired the blood of Kiaros Polariwood,” she visited even more frequently.

    “The Empire’s finished now. The war’s begun, and the Modification Faction will win.”

    Wearing a mask, Aran looked down at Cedric as she spoke.

    “It’s time to change your mind. Join us. If you can’t do it in your right mind, we can erase your memory and make it easier.”

    Cedric, shackled, stared blankly back at her. Aran, frustrated by his silence, pressed on.

    “I told you already. The Empire put too much in the hands of the Dragonbloods. But now they’re finished. Only chaos remains.”

    “There’s more than just Dragonbloods in the palace. I’m sure there’s someone capable still standing.”

    Cedric calmly refuted her.

    “And why are the Dragonbloods finished? Does the High Priest really think he can kill the Crown Prince? Assassinate the heir to the throne in the heart of the palace? You think it’s that easy?”

    Behind her mask, Aran bit her lower lip and stifled a groan.

    When Cedric was silent, it hurt her chest. But when he spoke, it was a headache.

    “Of course the High Priest made it sound easy. He can die and it won’t shake your group. That’s just how you operate, isn’t it?”

    “...”

    “Why would you stay in an organization like that? A proper organization is built on mutual trust and cooperation, growing together in a positive—”

    “Ugh, shut up. Even if the assassination fails, it’s over either way.”

    Aran cut him off, eyes full of frustration.

    “You don’t even know why the Emperor disappeared from the capital, do you? It’s because he’s sick. They haven’t announced it publicly, but he’s close to death.”

    “...”

    “He doesn’t know it himself, but it’s because we experimented on his blood. When we tested it with reptilian-type monsters, we got exactly those symptoms.”

    Her words grew more urgent.

    “And since we have the Crown Prince’s blood and are preparing experiments, Kiaros will end up the same.”

    Cedric, who had been quietly listening, looked at her.

    “Why are you explaining all this to me in such detail?”

    “Because... you’re too valuable to waste as a test subject...”

    “And what about Namia?”

    “...”

    “Will Namia be okay? That’s the only thing I’m worried about.”

    “Why are you asking me that?!”

    “Isn’t it obvious?”

    Cedric sighed, hesitated for a moment, then said:

    “...She’s our daughter.”

    Aran flinched. She staggered backward in shock, unable to hide her horror.

    “W-what! How—how do you know?! Huh? How do you know that?!”

    “...Common sense. Just covering your face doesn’t mean a person’s unrecognizable...”

    “W-when did you find out?! When?! Just when did—?!”

    And then, a loud explosion rang through the underground prison, shaking the floor beneath them.

    “...Huh?”

    Aran snapped her head up.

    “Something’s wrong. Hold on. Is it an intruder?”

    “It could be the Dragonbloods. Maybe your High Priest got caught in a trap set by someone competent in the palace.”

    “The Emperor is sick, and the Crown Prince is in blackout.”

    “But maybe someone competent in the palace fixed that.”

    “Don’t say things like that. If that’s true, we’re all dead.”

    Still, Aran couldn’t deny that Cedric’s words left her rattled. Another explosion boomed—this one shaking the floor even harder than the last.

    “...Tch.”

    Aran hesitated, then rummaged through her pocket. She tossed a key and a dagger into the cell.

    “If something goes wrong, get out on your own.”

    She knew exactly what Vivers would do in this kind of situation.

    “This place might collapse into total chaos soon.”

    She then threw her now-useless mask onto the floor and ran back up the stairs.