The heavy iron gates of Kaelos City slammed shut under the suffocating weight of the Mayor’s decree.
Street by street, elite palace guards marched through the thoroughfares, their armored boots echoing against the cobblestones as they forcibly cleared the avenues, locking down taverns, and shuttering merchant stalls.
The three-day lockdown had officially begun.
Any civilian who dared to peek out from their window after dusk was met with the cold, gleaming tip of a guard’s spear.
Following the tumultuous meeting in the administrative palace, the remaining councillors had been sternly instructed by Mayor Henar to return to their private mansions and await his next urgent summons.
Left alone in his quarters, Henar frantically paced his chambers, desperately drafting political propaganda and manufacturing false leads to alter the public’s horrific perception of his regime before the Sect Elder’s two-day deadline expired.
However, a certain councillor had no intention of obeying the Mayor’s command.
Disguised seamlessly as Councillor Edwaris, Roy bypassed the estate guards and slipped back toward the administrative palace under the cover of the gathering darkness.
Navigating through the intricate, labyrinthine corridors of the upper sanctuary was effortless.
By devouring the true Edwaris’s mind and memories down to the smallest detail, Roy possessed complete knowledge of every hidden passage, secret trapdoor, and guard shift pattern within the inner sanctum.
Roy glided down a subterranean stone hallway hidden deep beneath the palace’s main foundation—a restricted zone off-limits to even high-ranking officials.
He arrived at the end of the corridor, stopping before a massive, dark-iron door reinforced with heavy mana runes and mechanical locks.
This was Mayor Henar’s most guarded secret: a hidden vault where the ruler stored high-tier mana manipulation manuals, forbidden martial techniques, and ancient cultivation notes accumulated over decades of exploitation.
Henar used these stolen techniques to maintain absolute dominance over his subordinates, ensuring that no councillor or local cultivator could ever bridge the gap to challenge his reign.
Roy casually extended his hand, pressing his palm against the reinforced lock.
CLICK! SNAP!
With a subtle burst of liquid crimson mana, the complex internal gears shattered, and the heavy iron door swung open with a muted groan.
Roy stepped inside without a hint of hesitation.
He didn’t even bother to check over his shoulder for patrolling sentries.
Every guard stationed along the outer corridors had already been subjected to his divine mind control—standing frozen at their posts like lifelike stone statues, their eyes completely hollow, acting as his silent sentinels.
The secret library was vast and dimly lit, smelling faintly of old parchment, bound leather, and preserved mana-ink.
Row upon row of metal bookshelves stretched into the gloom, lined with hundreds of rare scrolls and bound codices.
Still maintaining the face and form of Councillor Edwaris, Roy walked down the main aisle.
He reached out his slender fingers, pulling a thick, gold-embossed manual from the middle shelf.
He flipped through the yellowed pages, his golden-crimson eyes scanning the dense diagrams of mana pathways and core cultivation methods in a fraction of a second.
A sharp, wicked smile slowly curled the lips of his borrowed face.
These were no ordinary, low-tier martial arts. They were high-tier cultivation foundations refined by generations of human masters.
For individual human cultivators, these manuals were precious secrets; but for the growing Kingdom of Varania, they were an absolute game-changer.
Once brought back and studied by his beastmen scholars and generals, these manuals would dramatically accelerate the combat power and martial evolution of his entire nation.
"Fascinating..." Roy murmured softly to himself, sliding the gold-embossed text into his dimensional ring before pulling out another ancient scroll.
He systematically browsed through the shelves, devouring the contents of one manual after another, selecting only the most valuable techniques to hoard for his kingdom.
TAP.
A faint, almost imperceptible sound of a boot striking stone echoed from the doorway behind him.
Roy didn’t flinch.
He slowly closed the bound scroll in his hands and turned around, his eyes locking onto a shadow standing near the threshold of the vault.
It was Councillor Mamel—a stern, muscular Martial Master and one of Mayor Henar’s most fiercely loyal enforcers.
Never dropping his role as the deceptive councillor, Roy tilted his head, adopting a look of mild surprise. "Councillor Mamel? What on earth are you doing down here in the Mayor’s private archives?"
Mamel’s face contorted into a dark, vicious scowl. He drew a notched broadsword from his hip, his knuckles turning white as he glared at Roy.
"That is a question I should be asking you, Edwaris!" Mamel growled, his voice trembling with furious suspicion. "This secret vault is a restricted sanctuary known only to the Mayor and his most trusted inner circle. You were never given access to this place!
Why are you sneaking through the Mayor’s private collection during a citywide curfew?!"
Roy observed Mamel for a quiet moment, taking in the man’s rigid posture and flaring aura.
He let out a deep, relaxed breath, shaking his head with a light sigh.
"Fine... I suppose I must confess," Roy said smoothly, casting a sheepish grin toward his colleague. "I was simply curious about a few advanced mana manipulation techniques that the Mayor was hiding from us. I sneaked in here merely to confirm their existence."
"LIES!" Councillor Mamel snickered bitterly, his eyes burning with intense hatred. "I know who and what you truly are, Edwaris! You are the traitor who sold out Chief Strategist Ackher to the Mayor’s vanguard, aren’t you?!
You are the shadow committing all these heinous acts to tear Kaelos City apart... and tonight, you shall pay for your crimes with your life!"
Without wasting another second on talk, Councillor Mamel unleashed his Middle-enlightened stage Martial Master mana.
A roaring shroud of bright yellow aura erupted around his body, shaking the dust from the stone ceiling as he dropped into a low, lethal combat stance, ready to cleave the traitor in two.
Roy watched the violent display of human power with unwavering, almost bored enthusiasm.
He slowly exhaled a long breath, his golden-crimson eyes glinting through the dim light of the library.
"How many have you told?" Roy asked softly, his tone entirely void of panic.
"None!" Mamel spat out, a triumphant, bloodthirsty grin splitting his face. "I followed you here alone! And after I am done turning your corpse into minced meat... you will be dragged to the central plaza and executed by the—"
SWISH—
Before Mamel could even complete his sentence, Roy casually flicked his right arm in a light, horizontal wave.
A thin, razor-sharp crescent of pure, liquid crimson divinity tore through the air at a speed that defied the concept of time.
SCHLICK!
Mamel’s yellow aura vanished as if it had been snuffed out by a bucket of ice water.
The bloodthirsty grin froze on his face as a clean, microscopic red line instantly encircled his neck.
A split second later, Councillor Mamel’s severed head slid off his shoulders, tumbling onto the stone floor with a heavy thud, followed closely by his armor-clad body collapsing into a pool of rapidly spreading blood.
Roy’s eyes flickered with a brief crimson light as he lowered his hand, his expression entirely unbothered by the sudden slaughter.
"None... That’s good," Roy whispered into the silent vault.
He glanced toward the high high windows near the ceiling, sensing the position of the moon outside. "I still have a few hours left before I completely destroy this city."
Completely ignoring the bleeding corpse cooling at his feet, Roy turned his back on the dead councillor, casually pulling another rare technique manual off the shelf and resuming his quiet reading.
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