Silas left the city an hour later. He took no guards, no change of clothes. He simply walked out of the Gate and disappeared into the forest.

The journey was not long, but it wasn't short either. It was in the middle. He knew the path by heart since he was the one who had found the cave, so reaching the place was not a problem.

As he was also the one who found Ashwick, when they realized the city wasn't just a ruin but a goldmine, he decided to rebuild it.

They had to cut down trees with axes and saws. They cleared tangled vines that had grown as if they had been there for decades, while it had just been months. They moved massive boulders using ropes, levers, and their monstrous strength. The work took months. But they kept going until the city became what it was today.

A waterfall concealed the cave's opening, pouring down the face of a steep cliff. The water ran dark from mineral deposits in the stone, yet Silas didn't pause. He walked straight through the falling water, his robes becoming drenched. But he didn't care.

Inside, the air was different.

It wasn't just the temperature, which dropped to a level that would have frozen a normal man's breath in his lungs. It was the pressure. The pressure of mana.

The cave tunnel went deep into the mountain's roots, illuminated by the light of some crystal formations with moss clinging to the walls.

The deeper Silas ventured, the more intense the pressure became. It far exceeded anything felt outside, pushing against his body with such force that it looked like moving through thick liquid.

This was the hidden treasure of Ashwick. A cavern naturally shaped to concentrate mana within its depths, and that mana was harvestable.

For those without the system, it was the best place in the world to be in, as it offered a method to increase the mana levels without having to build a circle. This was, in fact, the place where the church learned that making something like this was possible.

This was how Drecht had reached Level 365 and how the Paladins had reached Level 330; they sat in the shallow sections and absorbed the environmental mana, but only a few people at a time could use it, and they couldn't for long.

The magic circle, instead, was a much safer option, and it provided far more mana than this cave did.

Silas didn't stop at the shallow sections but continued deeper until the tunnel opened into a massive cavern.

At the cavern's heart, the mana concentration was overwhelming. Silas sensed a foreign energy trying to penetrate his skin.

Then he reached the lake of liquid mana, flew over it, and got in the middle of it. It was finally time to start.

He inhaled. Any lapse in concentration would cause the mana to rip through him from within, transforming him into a feral creature like those roaming the woods, yet the potential strength made the danger worthwhile.

Silas grinned.

"Reidar Miller," he said to the empty cavern. "Let's see if you will be able to survive me this time."

[More than three weeks later.]

Reidar stood beneath an unnaturally large oak tree. Days earlier, he had deployed his Vorathid Sky-Hunters, spreading them across the forest in a broad search pattern. The cave's exact location had eluded him until that point, but he was sure it was somewhere nearby.

Through the multi-faceted vision of the Vorathid Sky-Hunters, he scanned the area, the sky, the water, and the cliffs. The summons dipped into ravines, buzzed over rocky outcrops, and went through the canopy, searching for the signs of a cave, for signs of Silas.

For days there had been nothing, just the endless, oppressive, and dangerously lethal wilderness.

Then, one of the Sky-Hunters picked up something.

It wasn't a visual cue. It was a feeling. The mana concentration in a specific area was spiking. It was far higher than what it was in the rest of the forest.

Reidar directed the swarm toward the place.

They converged on a cliff. A waterfall cascaded down from a ridge. To the human eye, it was just a waterfall. But to people like him, it wasn't. The concentration of mana coming from the cave was just too unnatural.

The summons flew through the curtain of water.

The air on the other side was freezing. The temperature dropped, and being soaked didn't help. Then they noticed something else from the temperature. The mana pressure. It was so strong that the connection between Reidar and his summons flickered.

"Go deeper," Reidar said.

The Sky-Hunters crept along the tunnel walls. Glowing crystals illuminated the path leading deeper into the mountain. The passage went downward, coiling into the earth's foundation like the roots of an ancient tree.

The deeper the Vorathid Sky-Hunters went, the greater the resistance became. The air thickened until it felt viscous, as if the creature were flying in syrup. Every forward movement required the insects to struggle against the heavy atmosphere.

Finally, the tunnel opened until the summons ended up in a vast cave. The floor was covered in crystals. The mana density here was so high it was visible as a shimmering haze in the air.

And in the center of it all, hovering over a lake that was too weird to be made of water, was a man.

Silas sat in the lotus position. Perfectly still, like a statue carved from marble. He was completely immersed in whatever he was doing, and for that reason, he didn't notice the summons clinging to the ceiling far above him.

Reidar focused his attention on him. The System name tag, the same that every creature on the planet had, appeared.

—[Silas Bishop—Level 390]—

Reidar's eyes snapped open. He stumbled back a step, his breath catching in his throat as if he had been punched.

"Reidar?" Jake asked, stepping forward. "What is it?"

Reidar stared at nothing, the number burned into his eyes.

Level 390.

That was a twenty-level jump. In a matter of weeks, Silas had nearly bridged the gap to tier 40.

"I found him," Reidar said. "But he's almost done."

He looked at Lena and Jake. "He's at Level 390."

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