The rumbling grew more and more. The warped city was becoming far more ruined than whole. Buildings collapsed, stalactites fell, smoke bellowed and rose… The carnage continued to grow widely with every second that passed.

And yet, still… Rodrick had nothing to show for his efforts.

"Ridiculous… Is he truly only a 1st Circle magus?"

All around him, countless shadows of the past bombardments remained visible like scars on the earth. Each outlining a distinct path of attack—different from the rest. The only thing uniting them all were the strange, glass-like swords that had been used as decoys for their actual location… Since his vision of the space itself was impaired, he had to rely on his ability to sense anima itself… And yet, even that seemed to have been twisted and torn in countless directions.

How is he able to do this? He thought to himself in silence as more wind blades raced out from his murderous swings. It was certainly a mystery—one that he found extremely entertaining.

In actuality, none of this should have surprised him. After all, he had seen what this young man had achieved during the Dungeon Break. Even back then, he was fairly impressed with his abilities. A man who could disappear and appear like smoke, emerging from wherever he needs to emerge from… A truly dangerous foe to fight on a chaotic battlefield.

If it weren't for the fact that their interests didn't fully align, he would have done everything he could to recruit him into his guild… Someone that useful in battle deserves to shine wherever blood needs to be spilled.

Even after they had left for the expedition, he was still aware of his capabilities… The spies he left behind—all of them were regular guards that could easily be detected. And that was exactly his plan… After rigging all of them with magitech devices that returned signals to him on whether they were conscious or not, he was able to monitor Soren's actions even from within the Hall of Death. Rodrick witnessed first hand how almost every day for the past two weeks, the guards he had assigned to him would occasionally 'fall asleep,' then awake hours later… It was clear to him from then on that the brat was up to something…

And yet, despite all of this, his expectations were still blown out of the water…

One by one, his attacks remained elusive to his enemy. As if Soren had somehow mapped everything in the vicinity and calculated exactly when and where the next barrage would arrive from…

I've seen countless magi control their environment to suit their needs, but never to this degree… How does he have so much anima? It felt both oddly satisfying and terrifying at the same time.

As his thoughts continued to stretch on, he finally took a deep breath then sighed deeply.

"I didn't want to do this so soon… But, it is warranted."

After launching the last wind blade, he violently slammed his colossal butcher's knife into the ground then closed his eyes. A movement he hadn't done in countless years…

"Awaken. Gale Reaver."

As those words left his mouth, his butcher's blade began to vibrate violently…

On the other side of the battlefield, a timeless act of survival was still in play. Myrin and Soren flew on top of a sword made of glass, shifting in countless directions to avoid the incoming wind blades flying their way. The bloodlust in every strike could be felt, even without [Eyes of the Fairy].

"When the hell will the Runic Acquisition Festival start?!" He screamed to his partner who was continuing to draw more and more creatures… The Astral Anima afforded to his influence was rapidly running out.

Even Soren, who had obtained the help of Tazzith, was growing more and more anxious. Although the situation was still under control, more and more variables were slowly being introduced—muddying the already muddy waters even more. The chaos was growing uncontrollably…

"They should have announced it already! I am not sure!" Myrin said swiftly before sending off another illustrated creature into the fray. He watched helplessly as it died the second it took one step off their flying sword—turning into a cloud of sliced-up ink splatters.

"Curses…"

By now, most of the structures in the city had already been demolished. There was not much left to hide behind…

Just as he was about to rethink his next steps, Soren felt the air turn cold… His butterfly-filled eyes shifted swiftly to where the change was originating from.

Rodrick Whitguard… He had for whatever reason paused his assault. But Soren knew, this was nothing more than just the hush before the tempest.

He watched in horror as the mountain of a man stood silently before his colossal blade… The air around it—it was shifting unevenly. Twisting and turning, like a cauldron brewing the end of the world.

Then, that which he had feared finally occurred. The iron skin of the sword began to shed, revealing its true colors…

A fluid mass of wind shaped into a blade. And within, countless scales could be seen flying endlessly within their typhoon prison.

Gale Reaver. A Tier 4 Sacred Treasure. He had already used [Record] on its information previously, so he was very familiar with its abilities. Not only did it pair well with his Wind Anima attacks, it also enhanced them to an almost catastrophic degree…

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Without waiting another second, Soren scrambled another few spellforms on the fly, creating multiple layers of Fairy Barrier around them. His mind screamed in agony as more and more of his focus was drawn at the task at hand… Blood seeped out of his nose endlessly in the process.

"Get ready to hide!"

It came so fast, neither of them had any time to follow that advice. A massive hurricane—one that could occupy the entire ruined city formed above their heads. Scariest of all were the ravenous dragon scales laced in every square inch of the wind.

The bombardment was now impossible to dodge.

Layer after layer of the Fairy Barrier shattered as he continuously recreated them. But it was truly pointless, the attack was beyond anything he could hope to stop.

Lacerations opened across their bodies. The wind cut through flesh like paper; the dragon-scale shards punched through skin and bone all the same… Blood sprayed. Screams were lost in the howling winds…

Then came the lightning.

Crimson electricity arced between the stone scales, charging the stormcloud above until it birthed a living thunderfield. Soren and Myrin felt their hair rise—static crawling across their skin like invisible insects.

"Ugh!" Soren covered his head beneath a large concrete slab as more and more Fairy Barriers formed above them. Even the changes in space didn't matter all that much any more.

The entire maze had turned into a death trap.

This lasted for only a few minutes, but the entire experience felt longer than a century. As the final flames of violence shimmered tol rest, the howls of the wind ceased with it.

The [Scalehail Cataclysm] had ended.

Blood dripped over Soren's eyes as his consciousness slowly began to slip away. Through the blurriness, all he could see was a flattened cave… No building had remained standing in the end.

"How absurd…" He chuckled to himself while coughing blood. In front of him was Myrin's body. With one final push from [Eyes of the Fairy], he managed to obtain some information about his health. The Elven Songster had somehow survived…

Then, the silence ended. He heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from behind him—slowly approaching their location.

"I must say, you really surprised me." A rather husky voice entered his ears. Soren continued to fight for his next breath—unable to even see the man approaching them.

"A Tier 1 Phantasm… A 1st Circle magi. Neither of these things should have been enough to face me. And yet, you still managed to do so. Be proud of your achievement—not many deserve to even face the wrath of my Gale Reaver. Your mistress is lucky to have students this talented…"

Soren remained silent. The words stuck in his throat were far too difficult to say with his injuries.

"Oh?" The old dungeon explorer sounded surprised—as if he had noticed something. "Myrin's injuries are fewer than yours. I see—you shielded him with your body didn't you?

"That's strange… I didn't think of you as the honorable type. Is it because you feel responsible for what befell him?"

Finally, Soren was able to notice Rodrick's shadow hovering over him. Even in the darkness of this ruined city, his seemed darker than the absence of light itself. But then again, that could just be a reflection of what [Eyes of the Fairy] was continuing to show him… Indeed, he had yet to fully give up. Even his Soul Realm was still active, despite his injuries.

Rodrick sat next to him—the frown on his face was rather palpable. "You really are a confusing brat. How can you be this selfless and selfish at the same time? I am astounded. Even though your actions were entertaining, the motive behind them still eludes me…"

Rodrick looked around the flattened city. All he could see was rubble for miles in each direction.

"It's strange, really. I thought you would be more inclined to use the civilians who remained in the city as hostages. But no—no one was inside any of these buildings… If you had left them to sleep in their homes, I would have hesitated to even use Gale Reaver… Why?"

Hearing this, all Soren could do was chuckle as more and more blood dripped from his bottom lip.

"You would have hesitated?" He asked in a sly tone. "Are you sure?"

Rodrick thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes—though, my decision would have remained the same. That Blood Amulet is the reason why this Safe Zone exists—its strategic location is important to the kingdom's prosperity. Regardless of the losses, securing it will still be my highest priority."

"I'm not so sure it's anything that noble." Soren snarkily replied. Slowly, he felt his vision faltering, but he continued to push through the pain. His eyes gazed into Myrin's figure, analyzing more and more information about him…

Then, he smiled—the one thing he was hoping to see happened.

Rodrick observed Soren's actions briefly then sighed. He could tell that the young magi was desperate, but all he felt was pity… An opponent like this—if he was allowed to grow—would have been far more entertaining to face.

"Perhaps you are right. I too am selfish to a fault." With that said, Rodrick finally reached down and unclasped the necklace from Soren's neck, holding the Blood Amulet aloft.

"I may not understand why you did all of this, but I commend you for trying. A true dungeon explorer pursues their desires—even when it leads to an unsavory death."

He stood up and patted his clothes—his unscarred eye fixated on the crimson jewel pulsing in a strange and eerie rhythm.

"I have to thank you, however. I am not sure how you were able to obtain the Blood Amulet—countless others have tried before you, but removing it from the ceiling of this cave was impossible. You did me a huge favor.

"May the Gold-Giver find joy in your ambitions."

Hearing his words, Soren couldn't hold back any more. He broke into a fit of laughter… One befitting a mad man. Rodrick observed this scene curiously then frowned.

"What's so funny?"

Hearing his question, Soren couldn't help but smile between the tears. "Ah, it's just so fitting! Your words. I just couldn't have said it any better myself…

"You've let your greed blind you, Rodrick."

Before Rodrick could even question him, he noticed something strange… The Blood Amulet in his hand… It was rapidly vanishing, as if being erased by an eraser. What remained in its place was a golden plaque etched in strange, runic symbols… The Dungeon Slayer didn't even have time to react—the instant he glanced at the golden card, it rapidly descended into his skin…

He had somehow absorbed it!

Rodrick glanced at Soren briefly, frowning. "What is thi—"

The words failed to leave his lips. His body began to flinch and spazz, as he stumbled back clumsily in pain… "Ahhh!" Rodrick held tightly to his head as blood poured from his eyes, mouth, and ears. A violent rupture shook within his skull as the visions of something terrifying played inside…

Visions of a colossal crimson eye… Visions of souls trapped in eternal damnation within. Visions of a disgusting sin from an ancient past…

Next to him, Soren smiled eerily as the flames of madness within his eyes continued to dance uncontrollably.

"It's a gift…" He whispered. "From one fellow explorer to another."

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