“Huff, huff—”
The impersonator, who had just been facing off with the brown-haired man, managed to escape using magic. But with his last remnants of mana depleted, flight was impossible—he had no choice but to run on foot.
The Council members, suspicious of his behavior, pursued him. Yet he skillfully evaded their pursuit, hiding and weaving through alleyways.
He made straight for the teleport zone within Frost Territory. If he could pass through there and vanish, no one would ever find him. He had used Leonardo Blaine’s name, but no one knew his true identity. If he escaped this place unharmed, he could live as if nothing had ever happened.
Darting between empty alleys, he moved swiftly, taking full advantage of the deserted streets. Thankfully, after staying here for the past few months, he had memorized the layout well enough to navigate.
The mountain path was likely crawling with Council members hunting monsters, and the other teleport zones would certainly be locked down by now.
That left only one option.
Within Frost Territory, there was one dormant teleport zone, officially sealed and out of use. But not long ago, he had confirmed with his own eyes—the portal there was still active. Only he knew this. If he passed through that portal, he could disappear without a trace.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, he ran, his lips curling into a triumphant grin despite his ragged breathing.
“Huff—huff... Fools. No one knows about that place.”
His steps grew sluggish but light as he rounded the final corner, the image of the abandoned teleport zone vivid in his mind.
‘Just past this corner...!’
Overcome with the thrill of impending escape, the impersonator charged ahead onto the main road.
But contrary to his expectations, he was forced to come to an abrupt stop. The scene that greeted him made him swallow the metallic taste rising in his throat.
“...No way.”
In front of the supposedly deserted teleport zone stood rows of Council members in formation. And before them, a woman of seemingly high rank stood with her hands clasped behind her back, staring him down with sharp, unyielding eyes.
The ill-fated impersonator, running so frantically he nearly stumbled, froze in place, paralyzed by her fierce gaze and overwhelming presence. His instincts screamed at him to back away.
This couldn’t be happening. No one was supposed to know about this place.
As he spun around to bolt in the opposite direction, the dark red-haired woman with the greatsword—who had just been in front of him—materialized behind him in an instant, pinning his cloak to the ground with her blade.
“Where do you think—”
“Aaah, aaah!”
The impersonator shrieked in terror as the woman who had been standing before him was now suddenly behind him. Her crimson hair framed her face, and she wore the navy-blue Council combat uniform with silver armor accents.
Like Hugo, her fluttering cloak bore an elaborate insignia, but hers was even more ornate. Her frame was muscular, her eyes fierce and piercing.
“You—are you a fire mage?”
“Heh... heh, get out of my way!”
The impersonator flailed wildly, trying to shove her aside, but she dodged with ease, grabbed his arm, twisted it brutally—and snapped it.
“Aaagh!”
“Answer the question. Are you a fire mage?”
His screams echoed through the street, but the crimson-haired woman remained indifferent, pressing for answers. Just then, another figure approached, speaking calmly.
“Commander, if you keep that up, he’ll scream himself hoarse before we get anything useful.”
The newcomer, clad in the same Council combat uniform, had snow-white hair and an eerily pale complexion. He sighed, watching his superior casually break the suspect’s arm.
“Is that so?”
The woman released his twisted arm, and the impersonator crumpled forward, sniffling and sobbing as he tried to crawl away with trembling limbs—but the greatsword impaled through his cloak kept him rooted to the spot.
“Tsk. Adjutant Levernil reported the fire mage would come this way. Is this really the guy?”
“For now, the detected attribute is fire, but... his mana’s barely functioning. Probably drained himself teleporting and setting fires along the way.”
“Pathetic... Should we rough him up a bit more and drag him in like this?”
“No, we can’t. The Council Commander gave strict orders to report the moment he was found. I’ve already informed him—he’ll be here any second.”
The impersonator lay collapsed on the ground, sobbing bitterly. The two officers glanced down at him with blank expressions.
“Hey... are you crying? Did I go too hard on you?”
“That’s why I keep telling you not to break suspects’ arms first,” the white-haired man muttered.
The crimson-haired woman scowled at him, indignant.
“He tried to attack me first.”
“He wouldn’t have laid a finger on you, and you know it.”
While the two bickered casually over the sniveling impersonator, a flash of light announced the arrival of someone new. The officers snapped to attention, saluting crisply.
“Loyalty. Moria Halipe, Commander of the 3rd Battalion, Northern Council Branch, reporting.”
“Loyalty. Haron Spencer, Deputy Commander of the 3rd Battalion, Northern Council Branch, reporting.”
Hugo, stepping out of the teleportation glow, returned the salute casually.
“Loyalty. Is this the fire mage?”
“Yes, sir. Adjutant Flynn Levernil tipped us off that he’d come through this teleport zone. We’ve been waiting for hours—this is the only one who showed.”
“Flynn, huh...”
Hugo wasn’t sure how Flynn had known the suspect would target the sealed teleport zone—but if Flynn was confident, there was solid proof.
Hugo grabbed the impersonator by the collar, hoisting him effortlessly off the ground. Moria withdrew her greatsword from his cloak to make it easier.
“I sensed something weak at the Count’s estate, but his mana’s utterly pitiful now.”
“He burned through most of it escaping—teleporting into warehouses, setting fires... over and over,” Haron explained.
At that, Hugo lifted the man higher, forcing him to stand on shaky legs. The impersonator trembled, gazing up—and suddenly inhaled sharply as recognition set in.
Hugo smirked faintly.
“Ah, so you know who I am.”
“...”
“Then tell me—were you involved in the monster burial? Did you set those fires this morning?”
“I... I’m sorry. Please... spare me.”
The impersonator, caught in Hugo’s iron grip, recognized him immediately—the very man whose chilling aura had frozen him to the core at the Count’s mansion that morning.
All his defiance vanished. Every fiber of his being screamed that resistance was ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) suicide. His only hope was to beg.
Hugo regarded the pitiful man with an indifferent gaze. Yellow hair streaked with faint brown, dark green eyes—he matched the description Ardel, the water mage, had given during interrogation.
This was the fraud who had posed as Leonardo Blaine and scammed the Count.
But the pathetic energy radiating from him was laughably weak—nothing like what Hugo had sensed earlier.
For a brief moment, Hugo had wondered if the impersonator might be competent enough to warrant the title—but this trembling wreck before him was a disappointment.
As the man sobbed and pleaded, Hugo turned to Moria.
“Commander Halipe.”
“Yes, Council Commander.”
“Hand him over to the transport unit. Have them escort him to HQ. Cross-check his fingerprints and mana signature—find out who he really is.”
“Yes, sir.”
Moria seized the impersonator by the collar, bowing slightly in acknowledgment. Hugo then addressed the surrounding troops.
“You’ve done well waiting. Maintain your positions a little longer—once the Delberg merchants are sorted, you’ll be relieved.”
“Yes, understood!”
The Council members, Moria, and Haron all answered in unison. Hugo nodded once and vanished again in a flash of light.
Haron stared at the empty space where Hugo had stood.
“Wow... That’s my first time seeing the Central Branch Commander in person. The aura, the presence... way more impressive than I expected. Everyone says he’s terrifying, cold—but honestly, he seems... kind of considerate.”
Moria scratched her head, expression unreadable.
“Well... I suppose you could say that.”
Haron frowned, unconvinced.
“Commander, you don’t sound convinced at all.”
Moria chuckled wryly.
“It’s not that simple. You’ve never seen him use his true strength.”
“Huh?”
“Do you know which division I was in when I first joined the Council?”
“Yeah, the Central Branch...”
Moria’s gaze darkened slightly, her voice heavy with memory.
“Back when I was just a 5th Platoon Leader, I joined a subjugation mission with the Council Commander.”
“Seriously? If he led it personally, it must’ve been massive.”
“Yeah, we were hunting Ancient Dragons—their numbers were out of control. But that day... it was the first time I ever saw a dragon flee at the sight of a human.”
Haron stared, skeptical.
“Come on, Commander... Dragons—especially Ancients—are insanely aggressive. They fight to the death. We’re trained to avoid them at all costs.”
“Yeah... I thought that too.”
Moria visibly shuddered, recalling the scene.
“It was the first and only time I ever pitied a dragon.”
Hearing the raw sincerity in her voice, Haron fell silent, staring at his superior—the woman he thought knew no fear.
Meanwhile, the impersonator, still dangling in Moria’s grip, silently vowed that groveling for his life in front of that man had been the smartest thing he’d ever done.
