Inside the pathway, Fernando and Wyne rushed forward, their breaths ragged from exhaustion. The flickering light from Fernando’s flaming wall behind them had almost disappeared into the distance. The moment they were certain no one had followed, Fernando dropped Wyne unceremoniously onto the ground.

  “Ugh…” Wyne groaned, clutching his arm. His acolyte robe was partially burned, and his face had lost all color. “Sir Fernando, what about—”

  “Shut it!” Fernando snapped, pressing a hand to his chest where a shallow wound still bled. His once-imposing presence had dimmed, his mana reserves clearly drained. “Be grateful I dragged your useless hide in here. That acolyte was just dead weight anyway.”

  Wyne flinched at the cold remark but said nothing. Instead, he slowly pushed himself up, taking in their surroundings.

  The cavern was vast yet eerily silent. Wisps of glowing energy drifted through the air, forming thin, mist-like tendrils that pulsed faintly before fading. The mana and elemental particles here were unnaturally dense — almost tangible. With every breath, power seeped into their bodies, subtly easing their fatigue.

  Fernando furrowed his brows, sensing the unusual atmosphere. His gaze flickered to the stone beneath them, tracing the faintly glowing veins of energy running through it. Then, realization struck him.

  “This isn’t a vault,” he muttered, his voice dark with frustration. “There’s nothing here — no artifacts, no treasures, nothing!”

  Wyne’s face paled even further. “But that… that cannot be! The records were clear; this place was supposed to hold relics from the Magus Dynasty!”

  Fernando clenched his fists, mana flaring around him before he exhaled sharply.

  “Tch. I should’ve known. A vault that just conveniently appears is too good to be true.” He let out an irritated sigh before his gaze drifted upward, watching the energy-rich mist swirl. “…Still, this place isn’t completely worthless.”

  Without another word, Fernando strode deeper into the cavern, where the space soon expanded into a small underground lake. The water was still, reflecting the faint glow of the mana-rich air. In the center, a flat boulder jutted out from the water like a natural meditation platform. Fernando leaped onto the boulder and sat cross-legged, placing his palm against the cool stone. Immediately, he felt the elemental particles around him shift in response, aligning effortlessly with his mana flow.

  “A naturally occurring dragon vein…” Fernando muttered, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. “Well now, this might not be a bad place after all.”

  Wyne hesitated before carefully sitting down as well. Despite the lingering frustration shown on his face, he too could feel the richness of the mana in this place. It was much better than any place that the Arcane Radiance College possessed.

  Perhaps they hadn’t come away empty-handed after all.

  The cultists moved swiftly through the pathway, exhibiting the movements of trained killers on the hunt. The two Elemental Adept Magi led the pursuit, their eyes locked ahead, following the lingering traces of their targets’ mana signatures.

  “They’ve sealed the entrance behind them,” one of them muttered in disdain. “No matter. There’s only one way forward from here.”

  The group pressed deeper into the cavern, the thick concentration of elemental particles causing their infused mana to stir involuntarily.

  “Sir, this place… it feels strange,” one of the lower-ranked cultists whispered. “I’ve never encountered mana this dense before.”

  “Forget that and focus!” the lead Magus yelled. “Retrieve the targets first, then we claim whatever lies ahead.”

  They continued ahead, and as they rounded a bend in the passage, something happened. One of the Elemental Adept Magi frowned, feeling uneasy. All of a sudden, a rupture in space tore open above them. Before any of them could react, an ethereal blade shot out from the crack in an instant — silent, precise, and deadly.

  The leading Magus barely had time to register what was happening before the spell pierced through his skull, disintegrating his head on contact. His body remained standing for half a breath before collapsing in a heap, lifeless.

  In haste, the cultists raised their guard, scanning their surroundings warily, ready for a confrontation. Even though one of their leaders had just been killed, they showed no signs of panic — only cold, ruthless focus.

  Then, a slow, measured voice echoed from above.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Now, now… chasing after others so recklessly? That’s just asking to be hunted.”

  The remaining cultists turned their heads upward. Perched atop a jagged stone ledge stood a lone figure, clad in a Magus robe, his presence exuding an immense pressure beyond that of an ordinary Elemental Adept Magus.

  Then, he spoke while enunciating each syllable. “How does it feel to be the ones being hunted?”

  Victor landed lightly on the cavern floor, his boots barely making a sound against the stone. The air was still thick with the lingering remnants of mana, the echoes of battle fading into silence. Around him, the lifeless bodies of the cultists lay sprawled across the uneven ground, their robes soaked in blood, their masks shattered into pieces.

  It had been effortless.

  Victor flicked his fingers, dispersing the residual elemental energy from his last spell. The fight had lasted only moments and was more like a one-sided slaughter, just as it should be. The two Elemental Adept Magi had been the only real threats, but once they were eliminated, the rest had crumbled like dominoes.

  “So predictable. Such a disappointment,” he murmured, stepping over a corpse. A faint smug smirk formed at the corner of his lips. “I really have grown much stronger…”

  Even among the so-called elite of the Armageddon Cult, there was nothing remarkable. They were trained killers, yes, but ultimately shackled by their own limitations. Their reliance on brute force and blind faith in their organization had made them incapable of recognizing true danger. Rather than trying to escape, they had gone to attack him, unaware that he could kill them like squashing bugs.

  Subsequently, Victor bent down, rifling through the belongings of one of the fallen cultists. There was nothing noteworthy, though — a standard-issue acolyte robe, a pitifully small interspatial ring containing a few low-grade magic tools, some mana crystals, and other minor trinkets. How disappointing.

  He continued his search until he reached one of the Elemental Adept Magi’s corpses. This time, his fingers paused as he pulled out a black insignia, the same nine-starred symbol encircling a larger central star that he had seen before. He twirled it between his fingers, examining it with mild curiosity. “So, the higher ranks carry this…” Perhaps it could be useful in the future.

  Without hesitation, he stored it before rising to his feet as he turned his attention toward the deeper part of the cavern. The path Fernando and Wyne had taken remained undisturbed — exactly as he had intended. He had been careful, ensuring that his mana fluctuations from the battle wouldn’t ripple outward.

  “It’s about time to collect my reward.” Victor smirked.

  Without another word, he stepped forward and vanished into a crack in space.

  Soon, he reappeared before an underground lake, immediately noticing the dense concentration of elemental particles. This place was teeming with raw, unrefined energy — far richer than anywhere else in the cavern. His gaze swept across the scene until he spotted Fernando and Wyne, seated atop a flat boulder in the lake’s center, seemingly lost in their meditation.

  Now, should I just kill them with a surprise attack? Or…

  As that thought crossed Victor’s mind, he sensed something. A ripple— no, a distortion in the mana flow. It didn’t come from Fernando or Wyne.

  “Wait… This mana fluctuation… from below the lake?”

  His pupils dilated slightly. A powerful presence lurked beneath the surface. It was faint, but only in the sense that it was perfectly still, blending seamlessly with the surrounding energy. Something ancient. Something dangerous.

  A powerful magical beast — at least as strong as Victor.

  Fernando was likely too absorbed in the dragon vein’s energy to notice, completely unaware of the slumbering menace beneath him. Even the System hadn’t issued a notification, meaning the creature was either dormant or oblivious to their presence.

  As opposed to getting scared, Victor’s lips curled into a grin. “Well now… This just got interesting.”

  He extended a single finger and sent an almost imperceptible pulse of mana downward — a subtle nudge to the creature slumbering below. At first, nothing happened, with the underground lake remaining completely still. But then, the water began shuddering, spreading outward continuously.

  Victor remained concealed as the disturbance intensified. The once-glasslike water quivered, disturbed by something deep beneath. Tiny ripples lapped against the boulder where Fernando and Wyne sat. The cavern’s ambient mana grew restless, the previously serene energy turning oppressive as though welcoming its ruler.

  Fernando’s brows furrowed. He finally seemed to sense something was wrong. “Wh-What…?!” He shouted and stood up, but it was too late.

  Without warning, the water burst apart as something enormous came out from the depths. The first to emerge were a pair of translucent, crystalline limbs, dragging a towering frame upward. They slammed onto the rocky shore with a force that sent cracks sprawling across the stone. Then came the body: a jagged, chitinous body. Six segmented arms, each ending in razor-sharp claws, clutched at the rocky shore as the creature fully emerged. Its head was a smooth, featureless plate with only a single fissure of molten red where eyes should have been.

  A stygian guardian, a beast that should have long since faded into legend. It had now awakened.

  Victor recognized the creature almost instantly. Among the ancient literatures in the citadel, he recalled mentions of a legendary subterranean guardian that lurked in places where mana accumulated unnaturally. Unlike ordinary magical beasts, it did not hunt for sustenance but instead acted as a living seal, preventing intruders from disturbing the ancient ley lines connecting Seraphia to the Primordial Nexus — the origin of mana.

  Abyssal Myrmidon.

  A beast said to endure for tens of thousands of years, its strength dictated by the ley line it anchored. Fully matured, such creatures could ascend beyond the Sigil Conversion rank… Fortunately, this one was pretty young and had not yet crossed the threshold of becoming a Nexus Temporal rank magical beast.

  Even so, Victor wasn’t certain he could kill it… Not without significant effort, at least. Though it wouldn’t be difficult for him to escape from it, which was something that the injured Fernando would find hard to do.

  As a matter of fact, Fernando did not have time to finish his incantation before the creature sent one of its clawed limbs sweeping toward them with terrifying speed.

  “Enjoy your final moments.”

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