Bermuda

Count Servia sat trembling under a blanket, hidden inside his castle. He had just heard the news—the entire territory was surrounded by the Council.

The suffocating thought that it was only a matter of time before they caught him made his own home feel like a prison.

“Where the hell is the grand master of the merchant group—what is she doing?!”

“M-Master... All the guards we sent to find the grand master of the Delberg Merchant Group... they’ve been restrained... they can’t move.”

“What...? Then the mage? Where is Leonardo Blaine?!”

“When we heard the Council had surrounded the territory, we looked for him immediately, but... all traces of him vanished.”

“What!?”

The Count’s face flushed as blood rushed to his head. He nearly collapsed on the spot.

When Commander Hugo Agrizendro of the Council and his adjutant had barged into the mansion earlier, the Count believed he had sent them away with smooth excuses. Relieved, he had gone looking for the grand master of the merchant group to sort things out.

But no matter how much they searched—despite sending guards across the entire territory—there was no word of her whereabouts.

To make matters worse, the rogue mage he had kept nearby, thinking he would offer protection in a crisis, had vanished as well. Panic and frustration twisted in the Count’s chest.

“Where the hell did they all disappear to?!”

“Master! The Council... they’re outside the mansion!”

A servant rushed to the Count, who was already furious, with the terrifying news. His heart sank. He jumped to his feet, hurried to the window, and peeked through the curtains.

Outside, in front of the main gate, stood a large group clad in the Council's uniform. Among them, exuding an overwhelming presence, Hugo Agrizendro stood at the center, a chilling aura radiating from him as he stared directly at the window.

“Gasp—”

Their eyes met. The Count recoiled with a sharp inhale and backed away from the window, pressing himself against the wall to stay hidden. But his legs gave out, and he slumped to the floor.

Trapped, he wore a hopeless expression as he squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his head.

“Where... did those bastards go...”

****

Meanwhile, the mage posing as Leonardo Blaine had already escaped the mansion. He was now hiding in a secluded area where few people passed.

Peering outside cautiously, he saw Council members everywhere, their uniforms filling the streets. His confusion deepened.

“What the hell... why are Council dogs swarming all over the place?”

Earlier that morning, he had sensed strangers visiting the mansion. He realized immediately they were the ones who extinguished the fire he had started the night before—outsiders hunting for Leonardo Blaine.

When he recognized the towering man with the cold, sharp features standing by the main gate, he had hidden deeper inside the mansion.

He couldn’t tell whether they were onto him or why they had come.

But even hidden deep within the building, the man’s chilling presence seeped through the walls and floor, suffocating him as though the man stood beside him.

Worse still, the mage couldn’t gauge his strength. Despite watching the man wield powerful mana the night before, the depths of his magic were unreadable.

Normally, when facing someone with mana, you could roughly sense their level. But with that man, there was no end to it.

In fact, before witnessing his magic at dawn, the mage hadn’t even sensed mana from him at all. Meaning, the man was an extraordinary controller.

Staying hidden was too risky—he could be caught before realizing it. Driven by survival instincts, the mage quickly executed his escape plan.

He gathered what little belongings and money he had and waited for the strangers to leave the mansion. He couldn’t risk being spotted by the Count’s guards or the [N O V E L I G H T] Delberg Merchant Group, so his plan was to teleport to the Frost territory’s border in one jump.

But teleportation was advanced magic, requiring vast mana reserves—far beyond his own. Moreover, Frost territory was large; a single jump might not cover the distance.

Even using teleportation, he couldn’t escape completely—crossing the teleportation zone near the border was still necessary. So, conserving mana was crucial.

Then he remembered Ardel Linter, the Count’s water mage and his business partner, possessed a teleportation artifact.

Ardel hadn’t been seen lately, making this the perfect chance. The mage raided his room, rummaging through drawers until he found it—the artifact. But its mana reserve was already half-spent, used at least once before.

Frustrated, he poured in his remaining mana and activated the tool. But instead of reaching the border, he landed somewhere remote, now hiding in a warehouse, trying to recover.

Time passed. Suddenly, the entire area erupted in chaos—Council members flooding the streets, broadcasting through loudspeakers that monsters were buried nearby.

A chill ran down the mage’s spine. He realized their entire operation—the Count, the merchant group grand master, himself—was completely exposed.

“...That cowardly Count must’ve spilled everything. Spineless bastard. If he can’t handle it, why bother at all?”

Grinding his teeth, cursing the Count he had despised from the start, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching the warehouse.

Startled, he reflexively covered his mouth, eyes locked on the door, barely breathing, praying the footsteps would pass.

But they grew closer. Right outside, someone shook the iron door violently, trying to pry it open.

Clang, clang—

Heart racing, the fire mage stared through the door gap, pale, palms pressed together. If worst came to worst, he’d blast whoever it was with magic. His mana reserves were low, but vaporizing a civilian wasn’t hard.

Just as he prepared to breathe deeply and channel his mana, the footsteps retreated, the rattling stopped. He nearly sighed in relief—until...

A man’s voice came from beyond the door.

“Mr. Blaine? I’m here on the grand master’s orders to assist you.”

Hearing those words, the impersonating mage’s face lit up, like hearing salvation. But caution tempered his hope.

“...The grand master? Who are you?”

“I’m a low-ranking member of the Delberg Merchant Group. I was sent to escort you, away from the Council’s eyes. She’s waiting along the mountain path.”

“...Are you serious? The Council’s crawling everywhere—how can we escape now? You should’ve come sooner if you were coming!”

Relief warred with frustration—the man’s timing infuriated him, yet hope flickered. The person outside went quiet.

Realizing his anger could cost him his chance, the mage reconsidered. Escape was the only option left.

“...I mean...”

“You may not like it, but if you hide beneath the cargo cart, no one will detect you. I brought a plain cart—no merchant group markings.”

A sliver of hope appeared—risky, undignified, but hope nonetheless. Struggling to mask his relief, he spoke pompously.

“Hmph, it’s beneath me, but I don’t want a scene. I’ll use your cart.”

“Thank you. Hurry—the Council could raid this place any moment.”

Urgency flooded the man’s voice. The mage scrambled to remove the door latches, shifting stacked crates aside.

Peeking through cautiously, he saw a horse-drawn cart, plain as promised. Beside it stood a young man—brown hair, brown eyes, freckles dotting his face—smiling.

Sunlight poured in, framing the young man like a savior descending from heaven.

Relieved, the mage opened the door wider.

“Let’s go, quickly. There weren’t any Council near here, right?”

“No, but... wait.”

The young man suddenly blocked him.

Brow furrowing, the mage stared, puzzled, as the man grabbed his shoulder and gently pushed. Yet an unexpected force sent him stumbling backward.

“Wha—what?”

That shove... how is he so strong?

He barely regained balance, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The young man stepped inside, shutting the door—and locking it.

The mage’s nerves screamed. A weakling shouldn’t have shoved him like that. Worse, after urging him to hurry, the man locked the door behind them.

“What... what are you trying to pull?”

The young man cracked his knuckles, the popping sound echoing ominously.

“Originally, I planned to watch you get caught by the Council... but you’ve caused me too much hassle.”

“...What?”

“I can’t let you walk away now.”

A sharp grin stretched across his face. Goosebumps prickled the mage’s neck—the air thickened with suffocating tension.

Realizing the danger, the fire mage pressed his palms together, ready to unleash a spell, glaring.

“You... you lied about the grand master’s orders.”

The young man shrugged, saying nothing. The lie was clear.

The mage began gathering mana, forcing out what little remained, preparing to strike—

“Clench your jaw.”

Before he could react, the young man was in front of him.

Arm raised high, poised to strike, the same unsettling grin on his lips.

Everything slowed—death creeping near—yet the movement was impossibly fast, beyond human reaction.

Before his eyes could even close, pain exploded in his jaw—a crushing force sent him flying.

Bang!

The punch launched him backward, shattering the warehouse’s wooden wall. He crashed into the debris, sprawled like a corpse.

Dust filled the air, swirling around the wreckage.

The young man approached, coughing into his sleeve, eyes on the fallen mage.

“Cough... guess I was holding back too long... couldn’t control my strength.”