Leon and Hanrick talked for hours, unaware that midnight had already fallen. The once-bright moonlight had vanished, hidden behind thick clouds.
"Hahaha, the more I get to know you, Leon, the more you remind me of your father," Hanrick said with a hearty laugh.
"I didn't expect you to be related to my grandfather, Old Han. No wonder you've always cared so much about my family," Leon replied with a soft smile.
"I owe your family a life debt. But when they were in danger… I wasn't there to protect them. Maybe it was fate. Now, you're the last of the Emery bloodline. I have a responsibility to keep you safe," Hanrick said, his tone turning solemn.
"I appreciate that, Old Han," Leon said sincerely.
"No need to thank me. This is what I should've done long ago—at least for the last Emery heir," Hanrick replied, his smile faint but full of meaning.
Leon smiled back. Through their long conversation, he had learned much—about Hanrick, and about his family's past. But no matter where the topic drifted, it always returned to the same subject—House Thornfield and House Drakebane. Hanrick had been investigating the massacre for years. The trail was faint, but at last, the culprits were clear.
The Thornfields and the Drakebanes. Sooner or later… they would pay.
But Leon knew revenge wasn't something that happened overnight. He was still far too weak. He needed to grow stronger—much stronger.
"Oh, right. You said you were heading into the depth of this Forest, didn't you?" Hanrick asked suddenly. "I'm coming with you. This forest… it's strange, especially at night. And with the survival test going on for Creed Mountain disciples, I'm still wondering how you even got in."
"Well, I kind of found a random entrance. But sure—let's go together," Leon nodded.
And with that, they stepped into the silent, shadowy forest.
———
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Lucas had just finished dinner. Sofia had cooked a generous meal, and he'd eaten heartily.
She really is a good chef.
"I'm not sure what's going on to her, but I hope it doesn't happen too soon," he murmured, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.
His thoughts drifted to Sofia. She wasn't an ordinary girl—she was a Heroine. And within her body lay something incredibly rare: the Ninefold Veil Physique, a celestial anomaly that granted immense power.
But with that power came enormous risk.
Without another thought, Lucas climbed the stairs to Sofia's room.
He reached for the door handle—locked.
"That's odd," he muttered, tapping gently. "Sofia? Are you in there?"
No response.
Lucas frowned. He could feel a strong presence inside—an overwhelming spiritual energy pulsing through the air.
He hated breaking his own things, but this time, there was no choice.
With a sharp kick, the door shattered open.
He stepped into the luxurious room and saw Sofia lying unconscious on the bed.
The air around her was thick with mana—so dense it felt like a spiritual mountain had collapsed into the space.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. He knew what this was.
A side effect of the Ninefold Veil.
Her body was absorbing energy from nine different dimensions simultaneously. It allowed her to grow stronger without training, but if left unchecked… it could destroy her from within.
And right now, she was losing control.
Lucas ran a hand over his chin, thinking quickly. In the original story, even Leon had struggled to find an artifact capable of stabilizing this physique.
But then, an idea struck.
He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out a jade stone.
"I hope this works," he murmured.
He pressed it close to her body—and immediately, the mana-choked air began funneling into the jade. The room's pressure eased, and Lucas felt the strain pushing against his palm.
But he smiled.
His plan was working. Not just to save Sofia...
But to awaken the entity sealed inside the jade.
———
Deep inside Blackbell Forest, Leon and Hanrick stood before a massive cliff wall. It looked like the end of the path.
"A dead end? Are you sure the map pointed here?" Hanrick asked, raising a suspicious brow.
"I'm sure. The treasure… it's supposed to be here," Leon said, eyes fixed on the cliff face.
"Let me see the map," Hanrick said, taking the scroll from Leon's hands.
He studied it closely. And sure enough, the final point did end at this very cliff. Right in the center of the sketched cliffside, a small, subtle dot caught his eye.
He kept examining it—and then, he noticed something.
"Leon, over here. I think I found something."
Hanrick turned to see Leon already pressing his hand against the stone wall, fingers tracing a long crack across the surface.
"This is strange, Old Han... this crack—don't you feel something odd?" Leon asked without looking back.
Hanrick stepped closer and touched it.
"This isn't a natural crack. Looks like something heavy struck it."
"And stranger still... it looks fresh. Like it happened just today."
Leon's expression hardened. "Don't tell me... someone got here before us?"
"Then we'd better find out," Hanrick replied firmly.
Following the crack along the cliffside, they finally reached a hidden opening—like the mouth of a cave embedded in the stone.
"This is it. The treasure has to be inside," Leon said, and immediately stepped in.
Hanrick followed, though a foul stench hit him—something like rotting flesh.
Leon continued forward, running his fingers along the cave walls, scanning for signs. Then suddenly, a soft blue glow flickered in the distance.
They both headed toward it—and stopped at the edge of a wide underground pool, its surface aglow with gentle azure light and laced with faint traces of mana.
Leon grinned. "Whoever cracked open that cliff must've missed this. The treasure's ours."
Hanrick rubbed his chin, still uneasy, but he couldn't deny it—this place was well hidden, and strange.
"Down there... that glowing thing. I'm betting that's the treasure," Leon said.
"Let me go get it," Hanrick offered.
"You sure? I can go instead, Old Han," Leon said.
"No. Something feels off. Let me check it first," Hanrick insisted.
Leon nodded. "Alright."
With that, Hanrick removed his upper robe, revealing a well-built frame—surprisingly muscular for a man his age.
Leon chuckled, impressed. "Damn, Old Han. Do you secretly go to the gym?"
Hanrick laughed. "I still train. I thought about retiring more than once... but something told me to wait. To wait for the right moment. Meeting you proved I was right."
Leon gave him a wide grin. "I won't let you down, Old Han."
Hanrick smiled and gave a nod—then dove straight into the glowing pool.
---
While Leon waited patiently at the surface, Hanrick dove deeper into the water. It didn't take long for him to reach the bottom—where silence reigned, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breath and the distant echo of water shifting above.
Then he saw it.
Nestled between jagged stones lay a single rock, about forty centimeters wide, glowing with a faint, bluish light. It pulsed gently, almost like a living thing—calm, deliberate, steady.
Hanrick's brow furrowed. He approached slowly, senses alert. Something about it felt off. Too still. Too perfect.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface—
Click.
His eyes widened in realization, instincts screamed too late.
"Shit—"
BOOM!
The explosion tore through the depths with savage force. The rocky basin ruptured like paper, sending a massive surge of water skyward. Flames erupted from the heart of the blast, unnaturally hot—unnaturally alive.
Above, Leon was flung back by the pressure, crashing into the cave wall. The roar was deafening. Water and fire danced violently, devouring everything in their path.
Miles away, deep in the forest, a group of Creed Mountain disciples snapped to attention as the sound echoed through the trees.
"What the hell was that?" one muttered, eyes narrowing toward the distant smoke.
"Could be a signal," another replied. "Move—now."
Back in the ruined cavern, Leon groaned, half-buried under shattered stone. Blood trickled down his temple, his skin blistered in places. But he didn't care. None of it mattered.
Only one thing mattered.
"Old Han!" he shouted, voice raw and breaking.
He stumbled to his feet, staggering through the smoke and falling embers, eyes searching—pleading. His heart pounded as dread clawed up his throat.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not again.
He picked through the debris, calling the old man's name, each unanswered echo digging deeper into his chest.
Even Hanrick… even someone that strong…
No one could survive that.
A faint sound caught his ear. A voice. A groan.
Leon turned sharply and sprinted toward it, clawing through chunks of broken stone, lifting them one by one with trembling hands until—
There.
Hanrick lay amidst the rubble, bloodied and burned, his chest barely rising and falling. But what made Leon's breath catch in his throat—was the sight of his left arm. Gone. Nothing left but a shredded, cauterized stump.
Leon froze. Time seemed to stop.
The smoke, the heat, the pain—none of it mattered.
Again.
Someone dear to him... broken, because of him.
He dropped to his knees beside Hanrick, lips parted but no words coming out—just the hollow ache of guilt, rage, and fear colliding in his chest.
"…Old Han," he whispered, voice barely audible, "I'm so sorry…"
And deep down, that familiar shadow returned—reminding him of what he'd once lost, and what he could still lose.