The hum of the ruins still lingered in Trafalgar's mind even after they'd moved deeper into the tunnels. The faint pulse in his arm hadn't faded — if anything, it was worse now, like something alive was crawling beneath his skin.

He walked behind the others, eyes scanning the walls, searching for the sealed door from before. It wasn't in sight anymore, but he could feel it. It was close.

Rhaldrin's voice echoed through the corridor ahead, still full of scholarly excitement. "Note how the mana threads change color near the fracture points. This is a sign of ancient reinforcement, likely to stabilize the structure without the need for a core."

Barth was practically glowing, scribbling notes faster than anyone else. Trafalgar watched him for a moment, then smirked faintly. 'You're too focused to notice anything else, huh…'

His eyes flicked toward the Myrrhvale guard standing at the rear — the same man who had barked at him before. Trafalgar could feel that look of disdain pressing into the back of his head. The guy hadn't forgotten.

Then an idea sparked. Simple, stupid — but perfect.

He leaned toward Barth and whispered, "Hey, I need to check something."

Barth blinked, still holding his notebook. "Wh-what is it?"

"I'm gonna say I need the bathroom. Come with me."

Barth's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"Just do it. You'll see."

The professor was still explaining something to the rest of the students when Trafalgar raised his hand casually. "Professor Rhaldrin," he said loud enough for everyone to hear, "I… uh… need to use the bathroom."

A few students turned around, half suppressing laughter. Even Rhaldrin froze mid-sentence, blinking at him. "At a time like this?"

Trafalgar kept his expression serious. "Yes, sir. Urgently."

Barth hesitated, then stammered, "M-me too!"

The laughter spread this time. Rhaldrin sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Go. But make it quick, both of you."

The Myrrhvale guard frowned and extended his hand. A faint shimmer of mana gathered in his palm, materializing into a small glowing orb. The device floated for a moment before solidifying, its surface rippling with blue light.

"Requesting escort for two students. Southern sector," he said, his tone clipped. The orb vibrated once in response, then vanished into thin air as quickly as it had appeared.

Trafalgar smiled faintly, watching the faint traces of mana fade from the air. 'Perfect.'

A few minutes later, another guard appeared from the adjoining corridor — a younger one, with deep green scales running along his neck and a trident-shaped insignia on his shoulder. He gave a curt nod to the first man. "Escort request received."

The older guard gestured toward Trafalgar and Barth. "These two. Take them to the nearest rest chamber, then bring them back once they're done."

"Yes, sir."

Trafalgar and Barth followed as the second guard turned on his heel, boots clinking softly against the metallic floor. The air here was thicker, warmer — heavy with mana. Every step away from the group made the burning in Trafalgar's arm intensify again. He clenched his fist subtly, hiding the faint tremor. 'Still reacting… whatever's behind that door, it's calling me.'

Barth whispered nervously, "Trafalgar… this feels like a bad idea."

Trafalgar grinned without looking at him. "Relax. It's just a quick detour. Besides, I really do need to go now, don't I?"

Barth didn't answer, only tightening his grip on his notebook like a lifeline.

After a few turns, they arrived at a small, circular chamber lined with smooth stone. Crystals embedded in the walls glowed softly, illuminating three closed stalls and a faint stream of mana water flowing through a carved channel.

The guard stopped by the doorway, arms crossed. "You have five minutes," he said flatly. "I'll be right here."

"Got it," Trafalgar replied, stepping inside with Barth close behind.

The moment the door closed, Barth turned to him, whispering harshly, "You're not actually—"

"Using the bathroom? No," Trafalgar cut him off with a quiet smirk. "But I am going to need your help."

Barth froze. "W-with what?"

Trafalgar leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "There's a chamber that caught my attention earlier," he said quietly, glancing toward the door. "I can't explain it, but… something about it feels important. I need to take a quick detour."

Barth blinked, confused. "Wh-why? We're not supposed to—"

"I know, I know," Trafalgar interrupted softly, raising a hand. "That's why I need your help. You remember that skill I helped you get? The one called [Sleep]? I'm gonna need you to use it."

Barth froze, eyes wide. "O-on the guard? Are you crazy?"

"Just for a few minutes," Trafalgar said calmly, voice smooth as ever. "You'll stand watch, and I'll grab what I need. If you help me, I'll bring you something back — a relic from these ruins. Something no one else will ever touch. Think about it, Barth… you could study it, write about it, maybe even name it yourself."

Barth hesitated, his breath unsteady. The thought of holding a real Primordial relic was almost too much to imagine. "A-a relic…?"

Trafalgar nodded slowly. "Yeah. Help me just this once. I'll do the rest."

The small chamber fell silent, the soft hum of mana water echoing around them. Barth's fingers tightened around his notebook, his usual nervousness clashing with curiosity.

Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded. "…Okay. I'll do it."

A faint smile crept across Trafalgar's face — equal parts gratitude and calculation. 'Knew it'd work.'

The faint hum of mana crystals echoed softly through the small washroom. Trafalgar stood by the sink, sleeves rolled up, while Barth paced nervously near the doorway, clutching his notebook like a lifeline.

"Are you sure about this?" Barth's voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

Trafalgar gave him a quick glance, his tone calm and controlled. "Relax. It's just a small detour. We'll be done before anyone notices."

Barth shook his head, still pale. "I can't believe you talked me into this…"

"You'll live," Trafalgar said with a faint grin. Then, lowering his voice, "Remember what I told you — when the guard comes in, use [Sleep]. Quick and clean. You can do it."

Before Barth could reply, the heavy sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. The Myrrhvale guard's voice followed, rough and irritated. "You two done yet?"

Trafalgar mouthed, now, and stepped away from the door, pretending to check something near the mirror. The door opened with a creak, and the guard stepped inside, scowling.

"What's taking so long—"

He didn't finish. From behind the door, Barth shaking used [Sleep].

The air shimmered faintly with mana. The guard's sentence broke off, his expression going blank. He staggered once, eyes rolling back, and collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.

Barth froze, staring at the fallen man. "D-did it work?"

Trafalgar looked down at the unconscious guard and smirked. "Perfectly."

He turned to Barth, voice dropping to a low, steady tone. "I'll be quick. He doesn't seem that strong — I'd say his mana core's about the same as mine. That gives me around ten minutes before he wakes up."

Barth's throat tightened. "W-what do we do when he wakes up?"

Trafalgar's lips curved into a sly grin. "We gaslight him. Tell him he slipped, hit his head, and we were waiting for him to wake up. Simple."

Barth blinked, still trembling. "That's… awful."

"Effective," Trafalgar corrected. He patted Barth's shoulder, tone casual. "You're on lookout. I'll be back before he even snores twice."

As Trafalgar slipped past him, Barth stood frozen, heart pounding. He'd never done anything like this before — but somehow, against all reason, he trusted Trafalgar completely.

Trafalgar glanced once over his shoulder before heading down the dim corridor. 'Lucky I helped him on that train… kid's too good to waste.'

Trafalgar moved like a shadow through the quiet corridor, the soft hum of the ruins echoing around him. Every step was measured and silent. He knew the others were deep within the main chamber, far enough that no one would notice his absence. Barth's nervous pacing back by the restroom faded into the distance.

The air here felt heavier, almost alive. Threads of faint blue mana drifted through the hall, pulsing in rhythm with the deep vibration in his arm. The closer he got, the stronger it became — a steady burn crawling beneath his skin.

'There it is,' he thought as the sealed doorway came into view. It towered above him, carved from black stone and streaked with runes that shimmered faintly like veins of molten silver. The same lines pulsed along his arm beneath his sleeve, answering the call.

He glanced around — no guards, no footsteps, no voices.

Trafalgar's breathing steadied. He flexed his hand once, testing the ache in his arm. The pain was already there — sharp, insistent — but he ignored it and stepped closer.

"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Let's see what the hell you are."

He raised his hand, the one marked by the ancient tattoo, and pressed it gently against the door's surface.

The reaction was instant.

Light burst from the contact point, bright and violent. His arm flared with pain — searing, electric — as if molten metal was coursing through his veins. The symbols across the stone began to glow in perfect sync with his pulse, throbbing brighter with every heartbeat.

Trafalgar gritted his teeth, refusing to pull away. His whole body trembled, but his eyes stayed fixed on the spreading light.

'It hurts like hell…'

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