Meanwhile, Ryomen, still carrying Zhou on his back and clearly struggling with his own emotions about the night's events, approached the group with an expression that was simultaneously angry and filled with genuine concern.

"Is no one going to check up on Zhou?" Ryomen questioned with barely controlled anger, his voice carrying the weight of someone who felt his friend was being unfairly overlooked.

"Oh, right, right," Brok responded immediately, recognizing the justice in Ryomen's complaint and feeling somewhat embarrassed that he had needed the reminder.

Without hesitation, he rushed forward to assist with Zhou's care, his movements quick and purposeful as he prepared to assess his superior's condition.

He had never learned medical training, but he had lived quite a rough life back then as an agent for the underling tournament, so he knew some basic life hacks.

But as Brok approached Zhou's unconscious form, something completely unexpected happened. Zhou's eyes suddenly shot open with startling intensity, and he fixed Brok with a death stare so powerful and menacing that no words could measure its impact perfectly.

Zhou's eyes, which had been closed shut in exhaustion—and which should have been clouded with fatigue and confusion upon waking—instead blazed with a sharp warning for Brok to stay clear before shutting closed again into unconsciousness.

Taking a huge gulp, Brok stepped backward.

Mara, who had finished her examination of Ryder and confirmed that he was in stable condition, finally managed to stop panicking about his immediate health. Her breathing had returned to normal, and her frantic movements had been replaced by relaxation.

Looking toward Zhou with compassionate attention as well, she asked with obvious concern, "Is he alright?"

Brok watched this interaction with growing confusion, his eyes widening as he observed something no one else seemed to notice. As Mara approached and gently took Zhou into her arms to examine his condition, Zhou's face underwent a surprising transformation.

Somehow, Zhou had been aware enough to recognize who was approaching him and to react differently based on his preferences.

'This pervert!' Brok could only curse in his mind.

He found himself in the awkward position of being the only witness to Zhou's craziness, as no one else seemed to notice.

***

Lying on the sandy floor, his body spread like a starfish that had given up on life, Master Sung found himself in the exact area where the aftermath of the battle against Valachi had concluded.

'Well, this is embarrassing,' he thought, spitting out a mouthful of sand that had somehow found its way between his teeth. 'Over a decade of training new summoners, over a decade as a guild master, and here I am, back to how I began.'

He had been gaining an edge against Valachi initially—or at least, he had convinced himself he was gaining an edge.

Looking back now, with the crystal-clear understanding that only comes after a thorough beating, he realized that what he had interpreted as gaining an edge was probably more accurately described as Valachi just warming up and enjoying the exercise.

However, the good guys do not always win the battle. Valachi had overwhelmed him in an instant.

'Hope,' he spoke the word bitterly, like a curse, 'the most dangerous emotion a warrior can have. It makes you stupid. It makes you believe in fairy tales like good triumphs over evil and hard work always pays off.'

The last thing he had felt was hope before losing the fight against Valachi and nearly losing his life as well.

Valachi had overwhelmed him in an instant—literally in an instant. One moment, Master Sung had been executing what he considered an overwhelming combination attack, and the next, Valachi took over.

As he lay on the sandy floor, his battered form slowly beginning to regain its fluidity and respond to his commands, he turned his head sideways at a sound that brought unexpected comfort to him—the gentle, rhythmic sound of flowing water.

It was a melody he had almost forgotten.

Even the sand beneath him, though unrecognizable to anyone else who might stumble upon this place, felt familiar to Master Sung.

He was the one who had built this registered base after all, transforming what was once a barren island into a guild base of power. He knew what this place was before the first stone was laid, when he had seen this piece of land many years ago.

The base was an island surrounded by water, a natural domain that provided both security and isolation. Most guild members didn't know this crucial fact because each time he brought in a new recruit, he transported them through Yuki's familiar's affinity—the porter creation.

This method allowed for instantaneous travel, bypassing the need for boats or any other means of reaching the island that could attract unwanted attention.

The recruits would arrive never knowing they had crossed water to reach their destination.

He had implemented this system purposefully, just in case he accidentally brought in a spy at any point—they would have no knowledge of the guild's true location.

Just as he was confident in his guild's strength and his own abilities, he was equally cautious about security.

He had ensured that from the outside world, no one could ever discover the guild's location through ordinary means.

The island itself was particularly well-masked, remaining invisible to prying eyes through the deployment of Ryomen's second familiar—the wind goblin.

Satellite imagery would show nothing but empty ocean, and even the most sophisticated detection methods would find no clue about the guild base's existence.

Slowly, painfully, Master Sung began to get up from the ground. His muscles surprisingly obeyed his will for motion, though each movement sent waves of pain through his body. Yet his will remained unbroken.

As he struggled to his feet, he could nearly picture himself in his early years, back when hope was still a companion rather than a stranger. The memory was so vivid it felt like stepping through time itself.

Just like the first time he had ever come to this island, over a decade ago as a young summoner with big dreams, he found himself mimicking the exact same movements he had made all those years ago.

Back then, he had been searching for a place to build something great, to fulfill his dream and the promise he had made to Yuki. He had walked carefully toward the riverbank, his younger self filled with so much brightness, and had dipped his hand into the gentle waves, feeling their calmness.

Except for the fact that there had been tall, ancient trees during his first encounter with this island, everything else remained remarkably the same. A number of those trees had been brought down long ago, felled to make way for training grounds and living quarters.

As for the others, they had been destroyed alongside the living quarters and everything else on the island in the attack orchestrated by his own brother.

All his injuries had already begun to heal, though not completely. He had used the recovery flow technique to bring his muscles back to peak condition.

However, his flesh was taking considerably longer to heal, probably due to the influence of Valachi's claws against his skin.

The wounds they had left weren't something he quite understood.

The claws surely weren't ordinary.

Falling into the river, Master Sung allowed the waves to wash over him, the gentle water calming his mind and his call.

The feeling of complete peace washed over him.

*"Ryder,"* Master Sung mumbled to himself in a low tone, his mind flashing back to what had just transpired.

After a brief while, he chuckled softly and continued, *"I really made the right choice, didn't I?"*

At this point, he was smart enough to understand that his guild was non-existent, his people had been ravaged, and he had lost his position as one of the guild leaders at the top of the hierarchy.

*"Well,"* Master Sung continued with his internal monologue, *"whose fault is it?"*

*"I have no one to blame... except for my brother, Yuki Nakamura."*

He might probably think they were all dead now, wiped off the face of the land of the living.

Master Sung paused for a long while as his body finally began to heal.

*"I don't think I'll be proceeding as a guild master, recruiting another set of summoners, or even creating a new guild."*

*"Now, I have a new goal after all... And that is to take my revenge on you, Yuki Nakamura."

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