Upon exiting the dungeon, Iker rushed into the forest without looking back. His breath formed white clouds as he ran, breaking branches, crushing snow, and frightening animals with his mere presence.
Anxiety pounded in his chest. He circulated copper-green mana essence toward his dantian, forcing its transformation into aura. A navy blue glow covered his legs, propelling him even further.
He didn't think, he just ran.
How did he do it?
How could the seventh young master destroy everything in a matter of hours?
Was he alone? Did he receive help from someone else?
The questions mingled with blurred images: piles of corpses, warm blood still steaming, a stone of unknown origin. Each step plunged him deeper into confusion.
The branches beat him mercilessly. A spider web covered his face, blinding him for a few seconds. He swatted it away with his hand, without stopping.
The cold burned his skin, but sweat ran down his back under his armor, icy and cruel. His muscles protested with stabs that felt like knives.
The world blurred around him. Birds took flight as he passed. Insects fled from the crunch of his boots. His vision flickered, clouded by the effort.
I have to get there... before the others. I have to warn young Master Jasper...
But a shadow crossed his mind, colder than the snow beneath his feet:
What if it's already too late?
However, Iker shook his head and kept running. He had no time for unnecessary thoughts.
The last rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds like golden threads, weaving a blanket of light and shadow over the forest. The twisted branches of the trees cast grotesque shapes onto the moss- and snow-covered ground.
A cold wind cut through the air, carrying the scent of wet earth and rotting leaves. Dry branches crackled and fell, while lizards froze on tree trunks, their alert eyes scanning every movement.
Among the bushes, green rats and blue rabbits scurried about in frantic zigzags, but it wasn't enough. A three-colored kingfisher darted like lightning, its sharp claws closing with a dull crack. A sharp cry was drowned out by silence, and the snow was stained scarlet, glistening in the sunlight.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, the grove finally opened up. The camp tents appeared before his eyes like a frozen mirage.
Iker emerged from the forest with his face covered in cuts; blood ran down his cheeks, but he didn't care. As he came out, he saw his companions, who had been chosen by the young master Jasper.
"What happened? Why did you come back so soon?"
"Where are Dante and Brian? Are they... dead?"
"Did a group of animals attack them? Say something! Why aren't you answering?"
Several of those present approached Iker, asking him multiple questions, but he ignored them as he headed toward the white tent where Jasper was. His steps were heavy with accumulated exhaustion and fatigue.
He reached the white tent and entered it, where he saw Jasper sitting with a serious expression.
"What happened now?" Jasper asked, his hands covering his mouth. His voice was devoid of any emotion.
Iker held his breath for a moment before answering: "The young master Kael... has already cleared the dungeon."
Jasper stood frozen, his hand suspended in midair. A violent heartbeat thundered in his ears as he processed the message.
"WHAT?!!"
The scream shattered the silence of the tent with such force that several curious onlookers turned their gaze toward it, though none dared to cross the threshold.
"Speak clearly, damn it!" Jasper clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned with rage, his jaw so tense that the words could barely come out.
Iker felt a cold sweat run down his back. He swallowed, noticing how the dryness in his throat made every word torture.
"Young master, when we arrived at the dungeon where you told us not to go... it was already empty! And the stone of origin had already been taken. That means the dungeon was cleared."
"No... no... no... that can't be possible..." Jasper's voice broke into a whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it more real. The weight of the news pressed down on his chest, suffocating him. "Clear a dungeon... in just an hours! It's impossible!"
The world was unfair. And for the first time, that unfairness had a face—that of his younger brother.
His mind refused to accept it. Just a few hours ago, he was convinced that he would be the first to achieve it. Now, the truth stood before him like an insurmountable wall. Kael had done it. And he had done it with insulting speed.
It was too absurd!
"Gather everyone! We're storming the dungeon right now!" he shouted desperately. He wanted to clear the dungeon quickly so he could check if everything he had just heard were true.
...
Near the walls surrounding the city, a young man with black hair reaching down to his armpits could be seen. Half of his face was covered by a mask made of coins strung together with red thread, and on his back he carried a sword made of coins.
He was accompanied by a young man of similar age, with brown hair and eyes of the same color.
They were Kael Medici and Eren.
Maintaining his indifferent expression, Kael passed through the large city gate, receiving curious glances from the guards.
Upon entering the city, he did not stop to look around, but headed straight for the mansion to deliver the core of the dungeon: the stone of origin.
The hustle and bustle of the markets, children running barefoot, vendors shouting empty promises... None of that mattered to him. Only the core of the dungeon had value.
After walking for a few minutes, they arrived at the mansion, where they were greeted with looks of surprise and curiosity. But no one dared to ask a question, and they simply let them pass.
Kael looked at Eren, who was bandaged up, and said:
"Go change your clothes, then go get your bandages changed."
Eren nodded silently, staggering away with an expression worn out from exhaustion and heavy blood loss.
Kael continued walking along the stone path toward the training ground. He passed by the south garden, where the various flowers were covered in snow, some of them glistening slightly.
Shortly thereafter, he arrived at the training ground, where he found a medium-sized tent shaped like a toad (Bufo bufo), dark green in color, with its mouth open like a door: the Zu Carp Toad.
He entered the room, where old Roy was sitting at a table, reviewing various documents. Noticing his entrance, he looked up slightly; his expression changed from surprise to seriousness.
"Young Kael, why did you return so soon? You know what the clan chief's orders were." His voice was cold, laden with disappointment.
"Of course I know," Kael said, looking at him indifferently. "Father said we had a week to clear the dungeon, right?"
Old Roy nodded solemnly. Although he didn't like Kael's calm tone, he found it too arrogant.
A small smile appeared on Kael's lips, and he placed a copper-colored crystal stone the size of an ostrich egg on the table.
Old Roy looked at it curiously before his eyes widened in surprise and disbelief.
"This... is a stone of origin."