As he advanced toward the Sanctum, Darien tried to predict what awaited him there.

What business did Vincent Velgrane, heir to the most powerful house in Eldermead, have with him? By the way, dead or alive?

Coming upon an area swallowed by fog with the Sanctum in the distance, Darien was ambushed by a creature that leapt out of nowhere.

He then realized it was a deadly lake instead, the black waters unseen beneath the blanket of mist.

(Griefbinder)

(HP: 1289)

(Rank 2 Stray!)

The boy narrowed his eyes as the beast lurched its massive size out of the fog, its sludgily slick body glistening.

The black water peeled away from the grotesque creature as it growled, releasing its multi-tongue.

Darien had evaded one tongue in the ambush. Seeing this many now, he was surprised.

But he didn't let the Griefbinder's appearance shock him for too long as he floated backward when another tongue writhed out toward him.

~flissssh!

SPLASH!

The rotten tongue splashed back into the water, trembling the entire lake and the surrounding grounds.

Hovering above, Darien's gaze assessed the abomination before he conjured a <Frostfang Javelin>.

He then hurled it downward, and the long ice shard cut through the mist toward the Griefbinder.

The monster wailed as the javelin pierced through its bloated sidebelly. Green goo burst forth, hissing upon contact with the lake's surface.

In that same moment, the javelin detonated in a bloom of ice that not only encased the writhing Griefbinder but spread across the lake as well, freezing it solid.

Seeing this, Darien glided forward with his sword. He swept the blade through the frozen Griefbinder, its body shattering before being devoured by a hellish glow.

The ice dissolved as swiftly as it had formed, and by the time it had cooled down after the heat, Darien was on the other side.

[You get 20000 Skill Points and 720 EXP!]

[Knight Rank: Expert 13690/250000]

Now that he had <100x SP Multiplier>, Darien knew he couldn't lack skill points now.

Once he reached the other side of the lake, he saw the royal templars, armored in silver and jade, stationed like immovable statues before the great Sanctum of Duskfall City.

The Sanctum resembled a monstrous cathedral, irregular in design, with towering spires and shattered portions of its stonework.

'I wonder what monster is being reserved here. This looks serious,' Darien thought as he activated <Perfect Stealth> to move unseen.

Gliding upward, he slipped through a broken, arched window of the edifice, entering a grand temple-like hall bathed in surreal golden light.

No templars were in this inner sanctum, but the place appeared far from abandoned.

Holding on to one of the altidunious pillars, Darien's eyes swept across the vast hall of magic, studying every corner.

Eventually, Darien spotted what he had been looking for—his party.

They were bound by a magical rope against the base of the main shrine: Jakob, Bowen, and Ramsey.

'There they are!' Darien exclaimed inwardly, but he did not lunge recklessly to free them.

Looking around again, he wanted to be sure it wasn't a trap. 'What about Ayn?' he thought, too.

Not seeing Ayn among them made Darien feel uneasy. Maybe Ayn had already been slain by Vincent, or perhaps he had died in battle, or something else.

His absence heightened Darien's caution, who feared he might have already walked into a trap.

Suddenly, the sourceless golden light flooding the temple began to swell, glowing so brightly that it felt like the entire hall was about to collapse into pure annihilation.

Darien frowned, his instincts telling him that this was the attack!

Reinforcing his magical shield, the warrior turned to flee through the very same window he had entered from… only to slam against an invisible magical veil that shimmered before vanishing.

"Haha, we've got him," sneered a voice above, a figure crouched on the high ceiling's rafters.

The figure wore magical goggles, likely protection from the blinding light, and was dressed in magus regalia.

With a sudden burst of his wind magic, the figure launched himself downward like a falcon toward the unsuspecting target.

Half-blinded by the radiance, Darien braced himself as five <Wind Slices> collided against his magical shield in rapid succession.

He unfolded his blade, lifting it just in time to meet the attacker head-on.

CLANG!

The two hovering warriors wrestled in the air as they pressed against each other. Then, they recoiled apart with a burst of force, each taking a mid-air stance in readiness and assessment.

"Of course," Darien hissed.

He instantly recognized Kalan Branthorn, the heir to Eldermead's second most powerful family, and one of Vincent Velgrane's most loyal confidants.

Kalan's gaze measured him in return, sharp and calculating, with a faint smirk on his lips showing both arrogance and intent.

At this point, Darien didn't care what they wanted him for. He could only assure them they had chosen the wrong person to provoke.

~FWISHHHH!

Kalan's eyes widened as tendrils of liquid fire erupted from Darien's blade, lashing out toward him like serpents hungry for flesh.

Darting backward, he twisted and spun through the air as the searing flames chased him relentlessly.

Only when he created enough distance did he turn around.

Thrusting a palm outward, Kalan released a burst of wind that roared out and smothered the fire.

Using the opportunity, Darien released a stream of <Energy Bolts>, each streak of light tearing through Kalan's body ruthlessly.

The noble jerked under the onslaught mid-air, until Darien finished it mercilessly by hurling a <Frostfang Javelin> that tore through his chest and pinned him against one of the towering pillars.

Blood sprayed down the golden-lit hall as Kalan's body hung lifeless, frozen in place.

'Utter fools,' Darien thought as he hovered before the body of his enemy. 'Causing unnecessary bloodshed.'

As he mused, he felt the presence of others in the hall.

Slowly turning, his gaze fell upon two familiar figures standing below, looking up at him.

The first was Vincent Velgrane, tall and regal, gripping his magical sword with aura gleaming around him.

Beside him stood… Ayn. Alive and unharmed, Darien's party mate stood next to Vincent.

Confusion eroded Darien as he descended gradually, trying to understand why Ayn was unbound and seemingly compliant to Vincent.

As his feet neared the temple floor, Vincent thrust out an arm, ordering the warrior beside him. "Ayn, leave. Return to the main world now."

Ayn complied without hesitation, casting a final glance at Darien before throwing a Return Pebble to the floor and lunging into the shimmering portal back to the main world.

Still transfixed, Darien didn't process the sudden departure. Ayn was able to flee without being stopped, leaving only him and Vincent in the temple.

The realization of betrayal was more dumbfounding than infuriating.

Darien couldn't believe Ayn had been a rat all along, luring him straight into Vincent's hands.

That explained why the Sanctum had been so meticulously prepared for his arrival.

Ayn must've disclosed everything he'd witnessed of Darien's skills and spells, giving Vincent and Kalan the precise knowledge to set up the magical veil around the temple, fully anticipating Darien would float in and avoid the front entrance.

The ambush with Kalan and the sudden blinding light now made perfect sense. It was all part of a premeditated trap designed to corner him!

"Bastard," Darien hissed, shaking his head as his eyes locked on Vincent's smug smirk.

"Let me guess… these are just mirages, right?" he asked later, glancing at his "party" bound at the shrine, eerily motionless.

Vincent chuckled darkly before thrusting a hand toward them.

Immediately, the illusions dissolved into golden light, vanishing completely.

Frowning, Darien asked, "What happened to them… for real?"

Vincent's lips twisted into a malevolent smile. "I sacrificed them to the shrine monster. Its power grows with every offering. And I need it powerful."

Darien and Vincent locked eyes, the air between them thick with hostility and unspoken threats.

A pang of pain struck Darien at the thought of Jakob's death, but he allowed no trace of it to show on his face.

'Don't worry, pal. I'll avenge you,' he promised.

If possible, Darien wondered if he could even sacrifice Vincent to this very shrine monster before slaying the beast himself.

Gripping his sword tightly, Darien mirrored Vincent's stance as they prepared for a fight. "Don't eat dust this time," he told his enemy.

Vincent's expression soured with bitter memory, and without hesitation, he lunged forward, initiating the clash.

Darien met Vincent's strike head-on, the clash of their blades sending bright sparks flying.

Spinning, Darien sidestepped and swung, but Vincent twisted, countering. Their swords became a blur of molten arcs and clashing metal in a matter of moments.

Darien didn't know how he did it, but Vincent had become more proficient in sword art than before.

But he was determined not to lose as the hall reverberated with the rhythm of their duel, each strike answering the other with a louder echo and a brighter arc.

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