Chapter 185: WINDING ROADS
The black SUV continued its steady trek southward.
Several days had passed since they departed from Iron Hearth. The trees here weren’t as towering as those in the north, but they were denser, more untamed. The road had transitioned into hard, stony earth, scarred by the deep ruts of merchant wagons that had traveled this path for years.
Here, at the border between Ironhold and the territories leading toward the Emerald Union, the air felt different. It lacked the biting chill of Northreach but carried a heavy humidity. The scent of damp earth and sodden leaves filled the cabin whenever a window was rolled down.
Inside the vehicle, a sense of routine had settled in. The initial nervousness of the first day had evaporated, replaced by the quiet habits formed during a long journey.
Rumina, in the front seat, remained buried in her documents. A worn map was spread across her lap, cluttered with scribbled figures and marginalia. Beside her, stacks of contracts and price lists awaited her scrutiny. Her finger traced line after line, occasionally pausing to jot something down in a small notebook. Reading glasses, which she rarely used, now perched precariously on the tip of her nose.
Raveena and Caelus sat side-by-side in the middle row. The window next to Raveena was slightly ajar, letting in a cool breeze. Her long black hair flowed freely, dancing in the draft. Caelus sat beside her, his gaze occasionally flickering toward her profile.
Through the rearview mirror, Rumina observed it all. She saw how Caelus would hastily look away whenever Raveena moved. She saw Raveena pretending not to notice, even as the corner of her lips tugged upward.
"Honestly," Rumina murmured under her breath, barely audible. "My younger sister manages to attract attention before I do."
She refocused on the documents in her lap. Numbers were far easier to manage than watching her sister blossom into adulthood.
The SUV pressed on. Rolling hills gave way to valleys before climbing once more. Occasionally, they crossed small streams via narrow wooden bridges—Ramirez always slowed to a crawl during these crossings, his sharp eyes verifying the integrity of the structures.
"You’ve never been this far before?" Caelus suddenly asked.
Raveena turned to him. "Never."
"Neither have I." Caelus stared out the window. "In the past, traveling always meant a horse-drawn carriage. It was slow. Uncomfortable. This car..." He paused, searching for the right word. "It’s strange. But it’s fast and comfortable."
Raveena offered a small smile. "My brother’s handiwork."
Caelus nodded. "He is an extraordinary man."
Raveena didn’t reply. Her gaze drifted back to the passing landscape.
Caelus stole another glance, lingering longer this time. Raveena turned her head. Their eyes met.
Caelus snapped his gaze forward.
Raveena suppressed a chuckle.
From the rearview mirror, Rumina simply shook her head.
Midway through their journey, the car came to a halt.
Ramirez applied the brakes gently, coming to a smooth stop. His sharp eyes were locked onto the road ahead.
About fifty meters in front of them, a group had blocked the path. They stood in the middle of the road, motionless, as if they had been lying in wait. Twelve men in total.
Their leader was a massive man with a jagged scar marring his face. From his nose to his chin, the skin was pulled into an uneven network of scar tissue. His eyes were small, black, and unblinking. In his hand, he gripped a heavy greataxe with a weathered wooden handle.
He hoisted the axe high.
"Halt!" he bellowed. His voice was gravelly, echoing through the trees.
One of his subordinates, a scrawny man with bulging eyes, leaned in. "Boss, that... that isn’t a carriage."
"What?"
"It... it looks like it’s made of iron. It moves on its own. I don’t know what that is."
The bandit leader snorted. "Whatever it is, it clearly belongs to someone wealthy." He pointed to the clear glass windows. "Look at those windows. What poor man possesses glass that translucent?"
"But Boss—"
"Shut it!" The leader stepped forward. "Stop! Surrender all your valuables!"
Inside the car, Ramirez glanced back, his eyes seeking Rumina’s instructions.
Rumina sighed, her fingers ceasing their rhythmic tapping on her documents. "Get out. Finish this quickly."
Ramirez nodded. He killed the engine, opened the door, and stepped out. His hand already rested on the hilt of his sword. His movements were slow, deliberate—the gait of a man who had fought a thousand battles and felt no need to rush.
Raveena opened her door. The cool air rushed in, carrying the scent of wet earth. She stepped out, her blue cloak fluttering in the wind, her long hair trailing behind her.
Caelus followed, standing beside Raveena—not too close, yet not too far.
Rumina remained inside. She leaned her head against the window, tapping the documents on her lap with irritation. "Why must there be bandits... I’m going to be late."
Outside, Ramirez stood before the vehicle. His aging frame was still upright, his shoulders broad and unbowed by the years. His sharp eyes scanned the twelve bandits, identifying the primary threats.
The leader laughed. "Just the three of you? Ha!" He turned to his men. "Listen up! Only three of them against twelve of us. This will be easy."
His men didn’t answer. Some of them looked hesitant.
"Do you want to die?" The leader raised his axe even higher.
Ramirez offered no verbal reply. He simply drew his sword from its scabbard. The sound of metal sliding against metal rang clear in the cold air. Slow. Measured.
Two bandits from the flank began to move. They tried to approach the car from the left, perhaps intending to strike at Rumina while she was still inside.
Ramirez moved.
He didn’t run. He didn’t rush. He simply stepped. Yet, in three strides, he was already upon them.
His blade flashed.
The first bandit collapsed, blood erupting from his neck. He fell silently, kicking up a small cloud of dust. The second barely had time to raise his sword before Ramirez was there. A second slash. The bandit dropped to his knees, then toppled over.
"WHAT—?" The leader took a step back, his eyes wide.
Two other bandits attacked from the side, lunging toward Caelus. Perhaps they thought the blonde youth would be an easy target. Perhaps they thought he would make a fine hostage.
One bandit swung a hatchet. The movement was sluggish, riddled with openings. Caelus evaded with a fluid motion, spinning to his left. His empty hand parried the bandit’s arm, and in one swift motion, he drove his sword into the man’s abdomen.
The bandit fell. The others recoiled in terror.
From a distance, two bandits with bows began to draw their strings. They aimed at Caelus and Raveena, their arrowheads glinting under the dim sunlight.
Raveena raised her hand.
Blue mana pulsed at her fingertips. A small, glowing sphere appeared in her palm, spinning rapidly. She didn’t throw it. Instead, she focused her mana on the arrows mid-flight.
Zwing.
The two arrows hurtling toward them suddenly veered off course. They performed a sharp U-turn, striking the legs of the archers who had fired them.
"Aaargh!" The two archers fell, clutching their wounded legs.
Vector Mana Reflector.
A bandit standing behind the leader—perhaps the bravest or the most foolish—tried to circle around the car. He intended to reach the other side, perhaps to force the door open and take a hostage. His steps were quick, nearly silent.
But Ramirez was already there.
He hadn’t seen Ramirez move. He didn’t know how. All he knew was that suddenly, an old man with a sword stood directly in his path.
The blade flashed once more.
The bandit fell before he could even scream.
The leader was trembling now. He looked at his remaining men; all of them were paralyzed with fear. Some had already begun to back away.
"Run!" one of them shrieked.
The leader didn’t wait for a second command. He spun on his heel and bolted, his axe clattering to the ground as he abandoned it. The survivors followed suit, scrambling into the brush.
Ramirez didn’t give chase. He simply watched their retreating forms disappear into the trees, then wiped his blade on the grass. Once. Twice. No blood remained.
He sheathed his sword.
Caelus approached Raveena. His face was slightly flushed—though not from exertion. He looked at Raveena for a moment, then at her hand, where traces of blue mana still lingered.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Raveena nodded. "I’m fine."
"Your magic..." Caelus paused. "I saw it. It was... incredibly cool."
"Vector Mana Reflector," Raveena said, staring at her own hand. "It deflects projectile trajectories by altering the refractive index of mana in the air."
Caelus blinked. "Which means... what, exactly?"
"It’s not important."
Caelus offered a small smile. Raveena looked away, but her cheeks were tinged with red. Her long hair brushed against her face as the wind picked up.
Inside the car, Rumina leaned her head against the window. "Good grief... romance in the middle of the road. I’m almost jealous," she muttered. Her voice was faint, but enough to make Raveena glance back briefly.
Rumina quickly returned her attention to the documents on her lap.
She tapped on the glass. "Ramirez, finished? Let’s go. We still have a long way to travel."
Ramirez nodded. He returned to the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, filling the silence left by the brief skirmish.
Raveena and Caelus climbed back inside. Caelus sat next to Raveena, perhaps a little closer than before. Or perhaps it was just Rumina’s imagination.
The black SUV resumed its journey, leaving behind the bodies of the bandits, which were slowly being reclaimed by dust and dry leaves.
In the dungeon near Torshavn, the atmosphere was a stark contrast.
Gunnar and his fifty adventurers had reached the lowest floor. The final corridor was damp and oppressive. The air felt heavy, as if a great weight were pressing down from all sides. The stone walls were etched with ancient carvings—unreadable symbols and bizarre geometric shapes that defied logic. Some pulsed with a faint, rhythmic blue light.
Their footsteps echoed through the silent corridor.
Before them stood a colossal stone door.
It was twice the height of a man and wide enough for three to walk through abreast. Its surface was covered in symbols that throbbed with a dim blue light, mimicking a slow, rhythmic heartbeat.
Gunnar pushed the door.
The massive stone slab slid aside without a sound, as if held by magic or as if it had never been locked at all.
Inside the chamber lay a void of absolute darkness.
There was no light, only an all-consuming black. But slowly, their eyes adjusted. Runes along the walls began to ignite one by one, bathing the room in a sickly blue radiance.
And in the center of the chamber, an ancient monster lay slumbering.
Its body was gargantuan, encased in a thick, translucent layer of ice that shimmered under the blue runes. Cerulean veins pulsed throughout its form—in its arms, its chest, its neck—like subterranean rivers flowing beneath ice.
Several adventurers began to move forward, driven by curiosity and the desire for a closer look.
"Don’t," Gunnar whispered.
But it was too late.
A young adventurer with a clean face—as yet unmarked by the scars of his trade—stepped forward. His right foot landed on the floor directly in front of the monster.
There was a hidden rune there, concealed beneath layers of dust and silt. Unseen. Undetected.
A blinding blue light flared.
It filled the entire chamber with a brilliance that seared the eyes.
Gunnar froze, unsure of what had been triggered. He could only stand there, his gaze transfixed on the monster that was beginning to stir.
The first crack appeared on the surface of the ice. The sound of shattering ice rang out like glass hitting a stone floor. Thin. Barely audible.
A second crack followed. Larger this time. The blue veins in the monster’s body pulsed with frantic speed.
The monster’s eyes snapped open.
Two pale blue orbs, devoid of pupils or expression. Yet there was something there—something that froze the blood of every man in the room.
It wasn’t the cold. It was primal fear.
Their legs felt like lead. They were rooted to the spot.
A roar erupted.
It was deafening, a cacophony that shook the stone walls until they spider-webbed with cracks. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The mana lamps on the walls flickered erratically; some died out, while others flared with violent intensity.
Gunnar didn’t move. He was petrified, his eyes locked on the rising beast.
The ice encasing the monster shattered further. Piece by piece, the sound of the destruction grew louder, like a mountain of glass being crushed.
"Retreat..." Gunnar whispered, his voice failing him.
The monster shifted its massive arm. The ice covering it fell to the floor, splintering into a thousand shards. The blue veins throbbed even faster now, like a heart racing in anticipation.
"Retreat!" Gunnar barked, louder this time. "Fall back!"
A few adventurers tried to scramble away, but their legs refused to obey. It was as if an invisible force held them in place.
The monster opened its eyes wide.
The two pale blue orbs stared directly at them.
A second roar followed.
Louder than the first.
The stone walls buckled further. Several adventurers fell as debris rained down. Dust choked the air.
"RETREAT NOW!" Gunnar screamed.
But it was too late.
The monster rose. Its massive silhouette blotted out the blue light from the runes, casting a shadow that swallowed the entire chamber.
Gunnar unsheathed his sword. His hand was trembling.
He let out a cry, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the monster that filled the entire dungeon.
Outside, in the forest near Torshavn, birds took flight in a panic.
Those nearby felt something amiss. The earth shuddered faintly. The air tasted wrong.
But no one saw what had happened.
Not yet.