Everyone seated at the table turned their gaze toward Rick—

  everyone except Aurelian.

  He rose slowly from his chair, eyes locked on Rick. At the same moment, the four guards stationed inside the tent placed their hands on the hilts of their swords.

  Isaac and Chris moved as well—

  not forward, not back.

  They simply stood.

  Yet the air shifted.

  Everyone in the tent felt it—an unspoken pressure, as if the two knights were merely waiting for a single word from Rick.

  The atmosphere turned razor-sharp.

  Rick, however, laughed.

  “My, my, Lord Aurelian,” he said lightly, tilting his head. “What’s with that expression? It was only a joke. Why are you standing so stiffly?”

  Aurelian stared at him for a long moment, then spoke coldly.

  “You have a strange sense of humor, Master Rick.”

  He sat back down.

  Lord Malrik raised a hand at once, and the guards relaxed—hands easing away from their weapons. His gaze remained fixed on Rick as he spoke, voice firm.

  “Master Rick, that is not the sort of jest I can overlook so easily. I would ask that you choose your words with greater care.”

  Rick met his eyes calmly.

  “And I would ask the same,” Rick replied. “I don’t appreciate jokes involving my niece.”

  His smile faded—just slightly.

  “As you know, Lord Malrik, I am not a man who forgets easily.”

  Malrik studied him carefully before responding.

  “From what I understand,” Malrik said, “the misunderstanding between Lord Aurelian and Lady Rose has already been resolved. Sir Vetar himself was present.”

  Rick glanced toward Aurelian.

  “True. It was a misunderstanding,” he said. “And I trust it will not happen again.”

  Then, quietly:

  “The man I now serve… is not particularly forgiving.”

  He turned back to Malrik.

  “Now that the matter is settled, we can discuss the true reason for my visit.”

  Rick leaned back slightly.

  “I wish to examine the remaining fragments of that demon’s armor.”

  Cassian—who had been observing in silence—finally spoke.

  “If I may ask, Master Rick?”

  Rick nodded.

  “Go ahead, Cassian.”

  “I’ve read the report regarding the incident in the cavern,” Cassian said. “It states that you encountered four of those armored demons—and that Sir Rainer himself managed to kill one of them.”

  He paused, curiosity evident.

  “That being the case… why travel all this distance merely to inspect the armor fragments we recovered?”

  Rick smiled faintly.

  “For the same reason,” he said, “that no trace remains of Vetar’s battle with my niece against the one known as the Crimson Demon.”

  Cassian’s brow furrowed.

  “According to Vetar, portions of the demon’s armor were destroyed during the fight.”

  “Exactly,” Rick replied. “And yet—when the Black Smoke Mage retreated alongside the Crimson Demon, the remaining armor vanished.”

  His eyes darkened.

  “Taken. Removed. Retrieved—by a method I still do not understand.”

  Cassian exchanged a glance with Malrik before speaking again.

  “May I ask another question, Master Rick?” Cassian said.

  He hesitated briefly before continuing.

  “In the report, it was mentioned that there were traces of an ancient city—or what remained of one. According to the findings, it was vast, stretching for miles beneath the earth.”

  Cassian met Rick’s gaze steadily.

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  “If I’m not mistaken.”

  Rick looked at him calmly.

  “You’re not mistaken,” Rick replied. “It was a city—or what was left of one. “The demons live there now… or rather, they did.”

  His smile was thin.

  “That place doesn’t exist the way it once did.”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  Cassian nodded slowly.

  “I didn’t think you were wrong, Master Rick. The scale of the power you unleashed during that operation was visible to adventurers miles away.”

  He paused, then added,

  “If I may ask one more thing?”

  Rick’s expression hardened slightly. He wasn’t pleased with the direction of the questioning—but he knew the fastest way forward was to finish this properly.

  He gave a small nod, signaling Cassian to continue.

  “The report states that the black-armored demons were positioned near the center of the city,” Cassian said. “Within what appeared to be a massive structure—almost like a grand hall or citadel.”

  His eyes sharpened.

  “Were they guarding that structure—or something inside it? The report lacks details on how the engagement began, or why it began. It only states that the source of the magical phenomenon was destroyed during the operation.”

  Rick didn’t answer immediately.

  Instead, he thought.

  They know something we don’t.

  Or at least… they suspect it.

  Now he understood why someone like Lord Malrik had accompanied the campaign in person.

  I should have Michael look into this, Rick decided. If he hasn’t already. That crafty spider wouldn’t overlook something like this.

  Rick finally looked back at Cassian.

  “There was a magical formation,” he said evenly. “Covered in runes I couldn’t decipher—not even from a distance as short as this tent.”

  He continued,

  “At its center was something like a silver mirror.”

  His eyes darkened slightly.

  “The moment we entered the structure, they attacked. The rest is already in the report.”

  Rick didn’t miss the subtle shift in Cassian’s expression—

  the brief narrowing of his eyes.

  As if something had clicked into place.

  “Thank you, Master Rick,” Cassian said at last. “That aligns with the remainder of the report.”

  Silence settled over the tent—broken only by the soft sounds of servants pouring wine.

  Mary watched Rick closely, surprise flickering in her eyes at how things had unfolded. Still, she had half-expected something like this to happen—especially after learning what they had tried to do to Rose and Sai. Even so, the quiet that followed was suffocating.

  Altharion remained seated throughout it all, saying nothing. He simply drank his wine in silence, observing the events as they unfolded before him.

  Damn it… something serious is happening, Mary thought. And I don’t know what it is. Maybe I should ask Rick on the return journey.

  The moment stretched—until a guard’s voice broke the tension.

  “Master Kaelen Veylor has arrived.”

  Kaelen entered the tent, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto Rick.

  “I haven’t seen you in decades, boy,” Kaelen said.

  Rick smiled faintly.

  “It’s good to see you still in good health, Master Kaelen.”

  Kaelen approached the table as a servant pulled out a chair and poured him a glass of wine. He sat without ceremony, then looked straight at Rick.

  “You know why you’re here.”

  Without a word, Kaelen reached into the storage stone set into his silver bracer and withdrew a fragment of black armor. A servant took it from him and placed it carefully before Rick.

  Rick picked it up, studying it with open curiosity.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Rick said slowly. “It’s… how should I put it—alien.”

  “You’re right,” Kaelen replied. “I hesitate to even call it metal. It doesn’t react to conventional smithing methods. Its properties don’t match any material I’ve seen—or even heard of—in my entire life.”

  That caught Lord Malrik’s attention.

  “Would you care to elaborate, Master Kaelen?” he asked.

  Kaelen nodded.

  “The material does not heat properly, even at extreme temperatures. It resists moisture, water, and corrosion completely. It is remarkably light—yet can become harder than steel. And despite that, it remains flexible, almost like reinforced leather.”

  He paused, his expression darkening.

  “I do not know where such a material could come from—or how it could exist at all. Something like this should not be unknown. Not with these properties.”

  Rick nodded in agreement, then turned his gaze toward Lord Malrik.

  “Unless,” Rick said calmly, “it doesn’t belong to this world.”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  That finally drew Malrik’s full attention.

  “A fascinating idea, Master Rick,” Malrik said carefully. “But one that is difficult to accept without more substantial proof than fragments of armor.”

  Rick met his gaze evenly.

  “True,” he said. “It does require more evidence.”

  Then he stood.

  Mary and Altharion rose with him.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Malrik,” Rick said. “But we have a long journey ahead, and preparations to make.”

  Malrik inclined his head.

  “I wish you safe travels on your return.”

  Rick turned toward the exit. Mary and Altharion followed, with Isaac and Chris falling in behind them as they left the tent.

  And as they did, the sense lingered—unspoken but unmistakable—

  That something far greater than a demon’s armor had just been set in motion.

  “Rick… are you listening to me?”

  Mary’s voice finally cut through his thoughts.

  Rick didn’t respond.

  She frowned, then grabbed him by the collar and spun him around hard enough to make him cough.

  “Rick! What’s wrong with you?” she snapped. “You’ve been walking in silence for a while now. Do you even know where you were heading?”

  Rick blinked, then smiled sheepishly.

  “…No.”

  Mary groaned.

  “I thought so. Now tell me—what’s going on?”

  Their exchange drew the attention of nearby adventurers. Even without it,

  Rick’s distant stare drew more attention than he liked.

  He said nothing—not out of hesitation, but caution.

  This was not a place for careless words.

  Not when he didn’t know who might be listening.

  Before Mary could press further, Altharion gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Why don’t I invite you all to a meal before you depart?” he said calmly. “I doubt any of you have eaten. You’ll be able to talk freely.”

  Rick’s eyes lit up immediately.

  “That sounds perfect. I’m starving—I haven’t eaten all day.”

  Altharion smiled.

  “Then follow me, please.”

  He led them toward his tent. Upon arrival, he instructed several attendants to prepare a meal at once, sending them quickly toward the camp’s kitchen.

  Altharion gestured to a set of chairs. Mary and Rick took their seats, and Altharion joined them. Isaac and Chris remained standing behind Rick, as always.

  After a brief pause, Altharion looked at Rick.

  “May I ask… did you confirm what you came here for?”

  Rick smiled.

  “Yes.”

  Silence followed—heavy and deliberate.

  After a few seconds, Altharion spoke again.

  “And I hope I’m not jumping to conclusions, but… do you believe the Magestates were aware of this? Or at least had some idea of what’s happening?”

  Rick’s smile vanished.

  “They know something we don’t,” he said flatly. “That much, I’m certain of. And I believe they know something about those black-armored demons.”

  His expression darkened.

  “And that’s what worries me most. I have a feeling something big is coming. Everything that’s happened—every event—it’s all connected. I can see that much. But I still don’t have the thread that ties it all together.”

  Altharion studied him carefully.

  “Then there may be someone who can help.”

  Mary immediately knew who he meant.

  Rick turned toward Altharion, his gaze sharp.

  “Who, Altharion? There’s no one with that kind of influence—no one who’s lived for centuries—except Mary’s grandmother.”

  He exhaled slowly.

  “She’s one of the most powerful figures in the Kingdom of Thalorien.”

  Rick fell silent.

  Centuries were not measured in years alone—but in the weight they left behind.

  And if Mary was about to stand before her grandmother once more…

  then whatever waited at the end of this road

  had been waiting far longer than any of them realized.

  I truly appreciate everyone who continues to follow the story and support it chapter after chapter.

  See you in the next chapter!