“This stop is White Tower Station, White Tower Ruins. The doors will open on the right. Please mind the gap as you disembark. Once again, this stop is...”
The train station buzzed with activity as people boarded and disembarked.
However, most of those on the platform wore the distinctive uniforms symbolizing Ragnar.
What was once a site frequented by scholars studying traces of ancient civilizations now carried the distinct scent of impending conflict, almost as if the air reeked of burning already.
“Ahhh! Finally stepping outside again. It feels great!”
Stretching wide to loosen his stiff body, Selpherd groaned contentedly.
Noticing Theo disembark with a weary gait, he let out a chuckle.
“What kind of training makes you that tired? It’s not like you were swinging a sword on the train.”
“There are... things like that. I could use an iced Americano to clear my head, though.”
“Iced Americano? Why on earth would you drink that gutter water? That’s a disgrace to coffee!”
“I’d rather not hear that from someone who eats pineapple cheese pizza.”
“What are you talking about? Have you ever tasted roasted pineapple fresh out of the oven? It’s divine!”
Too tired to continue the argument, Theo nodded, conceding defeat.
“So, you didn’t quite manage to enter the ‘accelerated timeline.’ Ha! Magic isn’t as easy as swordsmanship, is it?”
“I thought my dragon blood-enhanced talents would make it work, but it’s definitely tougher than I expected.”
“Ragnar’s talents have always leaned toward martial prowess over intelligence. You’re just an extreme manifestation of that.”
“Still, I’m glad I at least got some hints out of it.”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s see what you make of it.”
If his physical body couldn’t fully adapt to the accelerated mental state, perhaps he could train his nervous system to process information at the same pace as his consciousness.
This was the idea Theo was experimenting with.
Lodbrok shook her head at the challenging road he was setting for himself.
“Well then, take care.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’ve got plenty of work to handle.”
As they exchanged farewells, Theo and Selpherd turned toward Deung Ryong.
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Deung Ryong gestured toward Nazariu and Jerima, who were still being closely monitored by Wellington.
“Return to headquarters and file your mission reports. From what I hear, the White Dragon Knights are gearing up for a large-scale operation. Keep that in mind.”
The group’s eyes glimmered at the mention of the full assembly of the White Dragon Knights.
Given their scattered deployments across various regions, such an assembly was no trivial matter.
“Well then, until next time.”
“Next time?”
Deung Ryong offered Theo a meaningful farewell before leaving.
As he walked away, Theo and Wellington briefly exchanged glances, a silent prayer for each other’s success.
Swish.
Following in Deung Ryong’s wake were several shadowy figures moving discreetly.
“Quite a lot of them, huh.”
Scratching the back of his head, Theo watched until they disappeared completely.
They were Black Snow agents.
Deung Ryong likely wouldn’t leave any openings for them to exploit, but it was clear they were relentlessly waiting for an opportunity.
Deciding it wasn’t his concern anymore, Theo turned away.
“Well then, let’s head back.”
Selpherd, Arin, Ray, and Cassandra nodded, moving together.
Cassandra’s grip on Ray’s sleeve tightened subtly.
From now on, she was stepping into an entirely unfamiliar world.
***
“When do I get these off?”
It had been quite some time since they left the station.
Nazariu raised his cuffed hands and grumbled at Wellington. Four days of being restrained, his magic sealed, was enough to drive anyone to frustration.
Wellington looked toward Deung Ryong for guidance, and the elder, still walking ahead, gave a curt reply without turning his head.
“You were bold enough to orchestrate schemes against us, and now you’re acting as though nothing happened?”
Jerima’s face hardened at the pointed words.
Deung Ryong could very well use this incident as a pretext to take Nazariu’s life and pressure the Magic Tower. The implication wasn’t lost on her, and she silently urged Nazariu to tread carefully.
But—
“Fair enough. We stirred the pot and hoped to bow out clean, but things don’t always go as planned, do they?”
Nazariu, unfazed, merely clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
Jerima’s complexion turned pale.
“Still, nothing has happened yet. Wouldn’t you consider working with us again?”
Deung Ryong stopped walking and turned his gaze on Nazariu, his expression unreadable.
Nazariu scratched his cheek, feigning discomfort.
“I know I’m good-looking, but staring at me like that so openly is making me blush.”
“Your shamelessness knows no bounds.”
“Oh, too much praise will embarrass me further.”
“But shamelessness suits a ruler. You’ve certainly got the audacity befitting someone who aims to stand at the pinnacle of all mages.”
Deung Ryong clasped his hands behind his back and let out a small chuckle.
“Indeed, this is the kind of relationship we have. We trade what we need from each other, yet leave ourselves open to betrayal at the first sign of weakness. Trust is unnecessary, and excessive anger is unwise. Maintaining that kind of distance works best.”
Deung Ryong signaled Wellington with a slight tilt of his head.
Click!
Though clearly reluctant, Wellington removed the restraints from both Nazariu and Jerima.
“Ah, freedom at last! A wise decision, sir. Living peacefully is the best way forward, don’t you agree? Ha-ha!”
Nazariu stretched his arms dramatically and laughed.
“But you’ll have to deal with the aftermath yourselves.”
“That won’t be an issue. It already...”
Nazariu tensed, his senses sharpened.
Not far from their location, he could detect the subtle presence of Black Snow operatives hidden in the shadows, ready to strike.
“...isn’t alive anymore.”
The corner of Nazariu’s mouth curled upward.
Suddenly, the heads of the hidden operatives separated from their bodies in a fountain of blood.
From above, dozens of figures cloaked in robes landed where the Black Snow agents had been.
The six-pointed stars on their hoods gleamed ominously.
The Star of David.
The Magic Tower’s elite force had converged from across the northern territories to join their leader at this final destination.
“No way... All this time... Moving in secret...”
Clévé staggered into view, blood dripping from her lips, and cast a look of pure loathing at Deung Ryong.
Betraying an ally. Allowing enemies into their territory. This was tantamount to rebellion.
But Deung Ryong, unfazed, waved his hand lightly.
A sharp wind sliced through the air, cutting off Clévé’s remaining breath.
Wellington watched her lifeless body collapse with a conflicted expression.
“Well, then,” Deung Ryong said, clasping his hands behind his back again, “let’s start the negotiations.”
Even surrounded by the most powerful mages of the Magic Tower, Deung Ryong showed not the slightest hint of fear.
“I’ve heard that the Magic Tower has maintained relations with the descendants of the ancient dragonkind for a very long time. Isn’t that right?”
“Before that,” Nazariu interrupted, “could we confirm that the item we’re receiving is intact?”
“This is it.”
Wellington stepped forward and retrieved a book from within his coat—a grimoire emanating a demonic aura.
It was the raw material needed for Paracelsus.
“As expected. You deliver swiftly. The item appears genuine.”
“Now, speak. Where is the Nest of the Naga?”
***
At the coordinates provided by Deung Ryong, a massive military encampment sprawled across the landscape.
Flap! Flap!
Several flags bearing the symbol of Ragnar flapped powerfully against the sky.
“Woah...”
Just the sight of it made Ray swallow dryly. A heavy atmosphere that defied description seemed to press down on his shoulders.
“Considering both Ragnar and Troivan are among the most prominent great houses of the Empire, it’s no surprise their military forces are massive. But this... this is beyond what I imagined.”
They had heard from Deung Ryong that Ragnar had issued a total mobilization order to crush Troivan early. Still, this felt far beyond expectations.
‘The scale of this army is even larger than it was in my past life. Could my actions with Ed have caused such a massive ripple effect?’
As Theo pondered, the group moved toward the entrance of the camp.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Suddenly, from a distance, a large cloud of dust rose along with the sound of thunderous hoofbeats, shaking the very ground.
A battalion of heavily armored cavalry clad in black steel was charging straight toward them.
The Black Iron Cavalry?
They were one of the two major strike forces of Ragnar, alongside the White Armor Vanguard.
“What the hell?!”
“Get out of the way!”
At first, the group thought the cavalry would veer off, so they ignored them. But when it became clear they were heading straight for them, everyone scrambled aside, rolling on the ground to avoid being trampled.
Theo, in particular, had to clutch young Cassandra tightly in his arms to shield her.
“Hey, you bastards! What the hell is wrong with you? There’s a kid here!”
Arin shouted angrily, but the cavalry paid no heed. Instead, they began circling the group in wide loops, their horses kicking up more dust.
“Well, well, who do we have here? The illustrious White Armor Vanguard! Sorry about not seeing you. You’re just so small, you know? My bad, my bad! We figured your esteemed dragon knights would come soaring in on white dragons! Isn’t that right, boys?”
“Absolutely, Squad Leader! Your words are spot on!”
“Haha! Who has time to look around at their surroundings when we’re charging this fast? If they don’t want to get hurt, they should move out of the way themselves!”
Laughter erupted from beneath the squad leader’s deeply pressed helmet.
Grit!
Arin ground her teeth, her glare fixed on the apparent leader of the group.
“Pataya, do you have a death wish?”
“Come on, don’t glare at me like that. I told you, it was just a mistake.”
“Oh, so it’d be fine if we accidentally dropped a magic bomb on the Black Iron Cavalry camp at night? Purely a mistake, of course.”
Pataya’s expression turned cold.
“Even as a joke, there are lines you don’t cross.”
“Lines? And who crossed those lines first?”
Arin and Pataya locked eyes, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
The other cavalry members mirrored their leader’s hostility, their eyes gleaming with murderous intent as they gazed down at Theo’s group from atop their mounts, lances at the ready.
But Theo’s group didn’t falter, even though they were outnumbered. Their presence radiated a defiance that refused to be overshadowed.
Silence.
The standoff dragged on until Pataya was the first to step back.
“Fine, fine. Why waste time on a pissing contest with sparrows? We’ll be the bigger people and let it go. Let’s move out, boys.”
“Hey! You...!”
Arin moved to confront them again, but the cavalry was already disappearing into the camp, leaving a massive cloud of dust in their wake.
Cough! Cough!
“Damn it! Those bastards!”
Even Selpherd, who rarely expressed anger, looked visibly irritated, while Ray fumed as if it had been his own quarrel.
Theo, however, found the situation puzzling.
‘The White Armor Vanguard and Black Iron Cavalry have always had a poor relationship, but this was unusually blatant. Did something happen?’
The answer to his question came later when they met Julius.
“A few days ago, there was a violent clash between the Black Iron Cavalry and our forces at the front. There were significant casualties on both sides.”