Chapter 619

Book 1 Chapter 619

“We have arrived.”

Gazing toward the distant structures of the Plove family estate, Leo spoke softly before turning back to his companions.

Behind him, Chelsea, Celia, and Abad were consuming tonics to restore their spent physical energy and internal mana.

Leo’s native land, the Delard Kingdom, was merely a minor territory situated on the outer borders.

Within that modest realm, the Plove family territory was considered an even more isolated, rural area.

Because of this obscurity, there was no direct spatial gateway connecting Delan, the royal capital, to this remote land.

The group had to emerge from the closest available spatial gateway and rush across the remaining distance at top speed.

While seasoned individuals like Reed, Jamua, or Ulta might have managed the sprint effortlessly, the pace proved grueling for the other three. As rising third-year students, merely keeping pace with Leo’s rapid advance had completely drained their physical reserves and mana pools.

“We owe Kyle our gratitude,” Abad noted with a weary smile, turning the tonic container in his hand. “It was incredibly fortunate that he provided us with such a large supply of these tonics before the winter recess began, anticipating that an emergency might arise while we were away from school.”

‘Listen up, alright? I’m offering these to you on a completely exclusive basis, understand? Take them. Take them. Haven’t you ever heard of a limited promotion? There is a wise old saying about staying prepared for anything~’

“He used those exact words with me,” Celia remarked. “He insisted he was giving me a highly exclusive discount.”

“Wait, he told you he was offering a special deal meant only for you as well?”

Abad and Celia exchanged bewildered glances.

“He kept stressing that an unexpected crisis might strike our group… That fellow occasionally displays an almost uncanny ability to predict the future.”

Hearing Celia’s conclusion, Chelsea finished coughing down her tonic, exhaling heavily as she caught her breath. Wiping her lips, she chimed in, “He was just talking nonsense.”

“Pardon?”

“He simply needed to liquidate his excess inventory, so he targeted the wealthy students to unload his goods. Kyle’s concocations are highly potent, but their effective lifespan is incredibly brief, isn’t that so?” Chelsea explained dryly. “The two of you certainly aren’t the only ones who fell for his sales pitch.”

“That absolute scoundrel…” Celia muttered, her hand tightening into a hard fist.

“Still, why do Kyle’s tonics expire so rapidly?” Abad asked, swirling the liquid in his glass vial with a look of genuine curiosity.

Leo kept his gaze fixed firmly on the Plove estate as he answered, “It is highly probable that he is utilizing Dwayno’s personal formulas.”

“What does that mean?”

Without shifting his focus away from the distant estate, Leo explained, “It refers to a methodology developed by the Divine Blacksmith during the historic Age of Calamity. Because there was no practical reason to preserve those draughts for extended periods during active warfare, he prioritized immediate battlefield potency over long-term stability.”

“Ah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Nevertheless, it appears Kyle is actively working to correct that flaw.”

In truth, Kyle was consistently advancing his research by studying Dwayno’s ancient alchemical records.

“It seems our underclassmen have plenty of leisure time to engage in idle chatter,” a voice interrupted.

Jamua walked over to rejoin the four students. Observing his arrival, Leo countered calmly, “Maintaining a relaxed mindset is far more effective than succumbing to excessive tension.”

“I cannot argue with that logic,” Jamua conceded. He then shifted his gaze toward the distance with a shadow of anxiety clouding his expression.

A short distance away from where the party was resting, Rhys stood entirely motionless, staring toward the Plove estate with a completely blank countenance.

The Rhys standing before them now was a far cry from his normal self.

Typically, Rhys maintained a thoroughly gentle, mild-mannered, and approachable disposition.

At this moment, however, he resembled a volatile explosive device that could detonate from the slightest friction. He gave off an aura so volatile that he seemed ready to burst into flames at a single touch.

“Is Senior Torua going to pull through?” Chelsea inquired in a hushed, hesitant tone.

Jamua’s expression darkened considerably at the mention of the name. “Her physical survival is assured. However, she remains entirely unresponsive. Furthermore, her internal mana has been completely stripped away.”

“……”

To any practitioner of the mystic arts, the total deprivation of one’s mana was a fate equivalent to actual death.

Chelsea bit down hard on her lower lip.

Her burning resentment did not stem merely from the fact that an upperclassman from her institution had been brutally assaulted. Every single magic student who shared an academic environment with Torua held an immense level of admiration for her.

Torua possessed an unyielding, pure devotion to the magical arts.

Even as a distinguished fifth-year student, she routinely sought out younger pupils to engage in open, enthusiastic intellectual debates regarding spellcraft. The image of Torua, her eyes gleaming with genuine excitement as she argued points of magical theory, remained vividly clear in Chelsea’s memories.

To steal the very gift of magic from someone who loved it so deeply was an unspeakable cruelty.

“I will never grant them forgiveness,” Chelsea whispered beneath her breath.

Just then, Ulta addressed Leo directly. “Leo.”

“I am listening.”

“We need to establish a definitive hierarchy before we take another step forward. Rhys is currently compromised by his emotions. Therefore, I want Rhys… or rather, I want you to issue direct, absolute commands regarding our respective duties.”

“Are you certain about this?”

Ulta gave a firm, unhesitating nod to Leo’s question. “Whether considering swordsmanship, spellcraft, or summoning arts, your capabilities far eclipse everyone present. No one will find it objectionable to operate under your tactical direction.”

An ambush was virtually guaranteed to be waiting for them.

Engaging in mortal combat was an inevitability.

Initially, Leo had intended to defer tactical control to Rhys, Jamua, and Ulta once they crossed into the boundaries of the Plove estate. He assumed that despite his own overwhelming combat prowess, older students might feel insulted or uncomfortable taking operational orders from an underclassman.

‘They are highly capable individuals who can manage a battle without my interference.’

Yet, Ulta had gone out of his way to hand the reins of command directly to Leo.

‘To be more precise, they require me to dictate their boundaries.’

The motivation behind this calculated arrangement was painfully apparent. It was a preventative measure designed to ensure Rhys did not completely lose his sanity in the heat of battle.

Even from Leo’s perspective, Rhys’s current state of mind was dangerously volatile.

‘He is fundamentally an honorable person who would strive to fulfill his responsibilities even when pushed to the brink of madness by pure rage. If we establish rigid operational boundaries for him, we can prevent him from crossing the point of no return.’

Ulta had correctly deduced that only a direct directive from Leo could serve as that psychological anchor.

“What is driving Senior Rhys to such an extreme level of fury?”

Naturally, discovering that a lifelong companion from one’s earliest academy days had been broken was more than enough to trigger immense anger. Yet, Rhys was traditionally a warrior capable of maintaining rigid mental discipline even in the face of profound tragedy. His current level of wrath felt entirely distinct from standard grief or anger.

Answering Leo’s inquiry, Ulta stated plainly, “It stems from devotion.”

“Devotion?”

Leo blinked in brief bewilderment at Ulta’s choice of words, given that Ulta had a well-known habit of filtering every situation through the lens of romance.

“Indeed. The two share a deep romantic bond. Furthermore, Torua is currently carrying their unborn child.”

“Pffft—!”

Celia, who had been focused on restoring her energy with another sip of her tonic, accidentally sprayed the contents of her mouth directly onto Abad.

“I-I am so incredibly sorry! The news simply caught me completely off guard…!”

“Do not worry about it, I entirely understand the reaction,” Abad replied, using the cloth Celia handed him to clean his face. “A revelation like that is more than enough to shatter anyone’s composure.”

Leo signaled his understanding with a slow nod. “In that case, let us organize our operational approach.”

“Rhys! Join us for the tactical briefing!” Jamua called out.

Responding to the call, Rhys walked over to join the circle. “Before we map out our strategy, there is an observation I must share.”

As Rhys spoke, the entire group—with the sole exception of Leo—grew visibly rigid with tension. It would create a massive tactical problem if he insisted on seeking out the Hero Slayer for a personal vendetta.

The true extent of the Hero Slayer’s might remained a mystery. However, as an ancient entity responsible for terminating countless legendary figures throughout history, it was painfully clear that no one in their party besides Leo possessed a ghost of a chance against him.

“What have you noticed?”

“The current atmosphere surrounding the Plove estate is profoundly unnatural.”

Ulta tilted his head in confusion at the remark. “It appears virtually identical to the state it was in when I visited during the previous summer season.”

Undeniably, the Hero Slayer was entrenched within those borders. Yet, from their current vantage point, the territory looked like nothing more than a tranquil, undisturbed countryside estate.

“Exactly. That is the primary anomaly. Following the crisis that unfolded last year, the Plove territory became recognized as the sacred ground where the champion Arion returned to banish a manifestation of Erebus. A great number of people now view this land as a holy sanctuary.”

Hearing this, everyone save for Leo registered sudden realization.

It was precisely as he described. Until the events of the prior year, it had been an isolated rural village, but its political and spiritual status had shifted drastically since then.

“Correct. The entire area is presently under the absolute, totalitarian grip of the Hero Slayer.”

‘Mel transmitted a warning to me. She indicated that all communication with the draconic entities stationed within the Plove estate abruptly ceased yesterday morning.’

The Plove estate had transformed into a highly critical location. To safeguard its secrets, various dragons had integrated themselves into the area under assumed identities. Now, those guardians had gone completely silent.

“Because he is holding the residents of the Plove territory as leverage, the six of you must dedicate your entire focus toward securing and evacuating the populace. This will be an arduous task. It is highly probable that he has deployed elements of Tartarus’s military forces to fortify the area.”

Ulta nodded solemnly in agreement with Leo’s assessment. “What will be our tactical layout?”

In response, Leo quickly outlined their positions.

“For what reason am I being relegated to the rearguard?” Rhys demanded, his voice dropping to a freezing register.

The surrounding students watched Leo with bated breath, anxious to see how he would handle the challenge.

“Because that position demands the highest level of martial discipline under our current circumstances.”

“……”

Silenced by Leo’s firm tone, Rhys cast his eyes down to examine the tactical layout Leo had drawn up.

Jamua was assigned to head the vanguard, directly anchoring the front line of engagement. Celia and Chelsea were positioned immediately behind him to provide continuous spell support. Ulta was stationed centrally, acting as a versatile pivot capable of reinforcing either the front or the back as fluidly as possible. Meanwhile, Abad, as a dedicated spellcaster, was anchored in the rear line.

If they were operating within a enclosed corridor or a scenario that required nothing but forward momentum, the security of the rearguard would be a minor concern. However, their objective required them to infiltrate the very heart of an entrenched enemy encampment and hold a defensive perimeter. In such an environment, the threat of encirclement was absolute.

In standard group combat, if the spellcaster holding the backline falls, the entire formation collapses instantly. Consequently, the rear inevitably bears the brunt of coordinated enemy ambushes. Given the parameters of this mission, Rhys—as a heavy knight capable of delivering devastating strikes while maintaining an ironclad defense—was the single most qualified candidate to anchor that vital position.

“And what of the Hero Slayer himself?”

“I will handle him entirely on my own.”

“……”

Rhys exhaled a long, heavy breath before finally inclining his head in acceptance. “Understood.”

If permitted to follow his own desires, he would have demanded to stand alongside Leo to bring down the monster. Yet…

‘Is this the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that Celia’s peers always describe experiencing?’

A grim, self-deprecating smile touched Rhys’s lips.

Leo’s gaze remained completely unyielding, wordlessly communicating a hard truth: ‘You are simply not strong enough yet.’

Leo proceeded to meticulously detail every potential hazard they might encounter within the Plove territory, providing specific contingency plans for each variable. As he absorbed the information, Rhys stared down at his own clenched fists.

‘I still have a tremendous mountain to climb.’

With their operational strategy finalized, Leo led the advance into the Plove estate without a moment’s pause.

The very instant their boots crossed the threshold of the territory, an immense, suffocating wave of magical energy crashed over the entire party.

Leo’s eyes narrowed instantly in recognition.

‘This specific mana signature?’

It was the unmistakable, ancient resonance of a dragon. Furthermore, the specialized draconic syntax utilized to anchor the spell was intimately familiar to him. It was a branch of mystic arts forged directly from the corruptive hexes wielded by the fiends of Tartarus.

‘The Nightmare.’

It was one of the hallmark psychological workings belonging exclusively to Lysinas, the King of Wisdom. The spell functioned as an invasive illusionary curse designed to force its victims into mortal combat against the manifestations of their deepest psychological trauma.

‘Furthermore, the underlying matrix has been structurally modified.’

Leo’s mind raced to dissect the composition of the spell.

“Kyle…”

Mirroring the exact phenomenon that Lyven, the deputy headmaster of Lumern, had manifested during their prior encounter, the spectral form of Lysinas coalesced directly in front of Leo.

“For what reason… were you the sole individual to survive that slaughter?”

Drenched in phantom blood, Lysinas glared down at Leo with eyes burning with unadulterated malice.

“Why did fate allow only you to endure and taste the fruits of existence? I, too, wished to experience it! The dawn of a peaceful world!”

Without uttering a single word, Leo drew his blade in a fluid motion.

Right at that split second.

Ssshh—

An abrupt, expanding torrent of pure shadow surged forward, completely enveloping and dissolving the illusion of Lysinas.

Leo froze mid-stance.

The fundamental geometry of the surrounding area underwent a violent distortion, fracturing to reveal an open pathway.

‘A critical failure in the spell matrix? No, this is something else entirely!’

Banishing his momentary astonishment, Leo forced himself to clear his mind of all distractions.

‘My immediate priority is to break free from this zone.’

Before plunging himself directly into the collapsing fissure of space, Leo cast a quick glance behind him.

Whish—!

The instant he successfully severed himself from the influence of the illusionary magic, the familiar architecture of the Plove ancestral manor materialized before his eyes.

“I bid you welcome, Leo Plove.”

Standing directly on the path ahead was a strikingly beautiful woman characterized by midnight-black hair and deep crimson eyes. Her appearance perfectly mirrored Reina during the days of her youth.

“My true identity is Zora Inel! The entity your kind refers to as the Hero Slayer—”

Slash—!

Without a fraction of a second’s hesitation, Leo swung his blade, cleanly severing Zora’s head from her shoulders.

Zora’s features froze in an expression of absolute, unmitigated shock as her head parted from her body.

“To strike down a visage that perfectly resembles your birth mother without showing a shred of remorse!”

Leo slightly tilted his head to the side, looking down with cold indifference at the severed, still-speaking head of the astonished Zora.

“What of it?”