“To slow down the decay, I’ve been constantly empowering my body and circulating mana with an ice affinity. Healing treatments help alleviate some of the pain, but even an Elven specialist couldn’t heal me. My mind is strong, and my will unshaken, but it’s only a matter of time before my body gives out.”

Tristan remained silent, his thoughts swirling as he processed Fluvis’s words. From the corner of his eye, Fluvis observed the prince. "Ahem, I didn’t come here to reminisce about the good ol’ days. If you want to hear about the Nether Realm, ask your father. We have more pressing matters to discuss now, don’t we?"

"Yes, of course," Tristan replied, snapping back to the present. "The repairs are well underway, and the sewer structure beneath the city has been stabilized. However, the situation on the frontlines has taken a turn. The enemy exploited our weakened state and managed to secure control over the south camp. After the memorial service yesterday, I had no choice but to dispatch the remaining army, leaving only the bare minimum personnel to defend the city. We can’t afford to lose more ground. We have to stand firm until the King returns."

"Have you heard any news of his return?" Fluvis inquired.

"Yes. Word is that he and Domino have boarded a ship and are on their way back as we speak. As for the Defiant Hounds... I’m afraid I have no news. I’ve been so overwhelmed with everything else that I haven’t had the time or resources to look into them. The city guards conducted a sweep, but they found nothing, and there have been no sightings up north. What about your investigation? The only report I received was that you concluded it and would be reporting your findings in person."

Fluvis nodded, acknowledging the dire situation at the frontlines. "We’ve greatly underestimated the involvement of the Hounds in the Kingdom," he stated plainly. While the remark was obvious at this point, Tristan was eager to hear the details of Fluvis’s investigation.

"It’s a bit stuffy here. How about we take a walk outside?" Fluvis suggested as he stood up. Tristan followed his lead, and the two exited the guest room, making their way down a long corridor that led to the royal garden in the back. As they walked, Fluvis continued his report.

"The interrogation process led me in circles. Most of the men knew nothing substantial—some had bits and pieces, but nothing concrete. Even Gustav, the only one who had more to offer, didn’t realize he was being manipulated."

"So he was their scapegoat?" Tristan asked.

Fluvis nodded. "Yes. The guards caught Gustav at the gates, trying to leave the city while flaunting his influence within the guild."

Tristan frowned. "And what did you find out from him?"

"Interrogating Gustav only led to more questions. The man had been brainwashed so many times that I’m amazed he could function at all. He was eager to talk—too eager. But his statements kept changing with each session. He was confused, with significant gaps in his memory. After hours of questioning, he suddenly collapsed in his seat... dead."

"Wait, what?" Tristan halted, a look of disbelief on his face.

Fluvis explained, "He suffered a brain hemorrhage due to a sudden spike in pressure. The autopsy revealed traces of mana consistent with Mind Magic. It turns out, Alter Mind was frequently used on Gustav. After reviewing all the interrogation reports and analyzing the fight between Rayne and Silva, I concluded that Silva possessed high-level skills in both Mind and Arcane Magic. Silva had taken precautionary steps to ensure that Gustav wouldn’t reveal anything important to us if captured. I have to say, Silva is quite the insightful and talented individual for a mere gold ranker."

"Their entire operation hinged on three people: Silva, the Dark Elf Tivaara, and, it all started with Varia the necromancer, who was transferred here twenty years ago from the Headquarters in the Brales Kingdom."

"Twenty years ago? Are you certain?" Tristan asked, skepticism lacing his voice. Twenty years was an awfully long time to be committed to a mission.

"I've already sent inquiries to the headquarters in Brales, but they've denied every one of them. The person we thought handled the transfer back then is no longer with the guild, and there’s no paper trail. We’ve also heard nothing from Varia's guild, the Jolly Regiment. They've remained silent."

"The Hounds kept to themselves in the early years, making their first move during the assault on the royal palace. As you know, that’s when Rayne's father died in the line of duty."

The prince nodded, memories of that day resurfacing. It was around the time his father, the king, had left.

"Then there was the exhibition match during the festival that spiraled out of control, resulting in dozens of deaths. The Aphitonians never claimed responsibility for it."

"You think the Hounds were involved in that incident? Seems a bit far-fetched," the prince questioned.

"Perhaps, but the timing is too coincidental. Just like now, when the Aphitonians took advantage of the attack during the festival to advance on the frontlines."

"Next was the sabotage of the mana stone processing facilities seven years ago, and who knows how many minor incidents were overlooked or unreported."

Fluvis's words set Tristan thinking. "And last year, our transport routes were intercepted. Do you believe this was all part of a plan?"

"There’s a pattern that suggests so. Every major attack happened when either the King or I was away. From all the information gathered, I’m convinced most of these incidents are connected."

"There’s something else," the prince added, shifting to the matter of multiple robberies that occurred during the festival. Most were minor, but special attention was given to the robbery at the House of Covingster's vault.

"Covingster? I vaguely remember the head of the house, Joseph—wasn’t he the General Manager of the Trade Department?"

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The prince confirmed. "Yes, but that’s not why the robbery was significant. A gold ranker was head of security, and among the five robberies in the eastern district, there was only one casualty."

Fluvis stopped walking and approached a nearby bench. They both sat down as he stroked his beard, pondering. "For a gold ranker to die during a robbery… who was it?"

"His name was Erhan," the prince said, noting the lack of recognition on Fluvis's face. "He was an adventurer and, more importantly, a guild member of the Forsaken Garde."

"Asim’s man?" Fluvis asked, to which the prince nodded. "He was injured during the last guild dungeon run and took on the job while recovering."

"Asim will throw a fit! Have you informed him yet?"

The prince shook his head. "Asim's been on the battlefield, keeping an eye on Kidllams, but he should be receiving the message about now."

"And do you think there’s a connection between the robberies and the attack afterward?" Fluvis asked.

"Possibly. If there is, we haven’t found it. Not much was taken—just currency and valuables they could easily grab, suggesting the robbers weren’t highly skilled, but skilled enough to incapacitate the guards without killing them. Except for Erhan, that is. His death was brutal—stabbed fourteen times… that’s how long it took to kill him."

"Silver rankers, then," Fluvis concluded, and Tristan confirmed.

"And witnesses?"

"Plenty, but no detailed information about the robbers, apart from their height."

Fluvis raised an eyebrow. "Their height?"

"The attackers were described as short, stocky figures. I suspect they might be dwarves," Tristan said, standing up as their meeting neared its end. He escorted Fluvis out of the garden.

"If it weren’t for the death of the gold ranker, the royal palace wouldn’t be personally involved. I had the Spymaster himself take on the case. It’s only a matter of time before the culprits are apprehended and tried."

As they made their way out of the mansion, the prince mentioned that Rayne's memorial service would be held at the Radiant Hawk Guild's estate tomorrow evening. Fluvis nodded, confirming his attendance, and added that he had placed bounties on Silva, Tivaara, Varia, and Bones—individuals who had slipped through their fingers after the festival.

"The undead? He certainly can't be left to roam free!" Tristan remarked, his tone laced with disgust.

"Indeed, but he's wanted primarily for questioning about his connections to the Hounds and Silva," Fluvis clarified.

Tristan nodded. "After analyzing the fight between Rayne and Silva, we found a blood trail suggesting Silva was injured and likely sought a healer. We’ve scoured the city and the surrounding area all the way to the northern border, but there’s been no sign of the Hounds."

"We won’t stop pursuing these criminals, but our kingdom’s influence only reaches so far. I appreciate the Adventurer’s Guild ensuring that these wanted posters will spread throughout the continent."

"Of course, Tristan. The Adventurer's Guild is, and will continue to be, at your disposal. As for the frontlines—while the Guild can’t be directly involved, nothing prevents adventurers from joining unofficially. What's your next move?"

"We push! We push until we win back the south camp and fortify our defenses. We can’t allow the Aphitonians to advance further into the kingdom. We have to hold on until the King returns and decides the next course of action."

Fluvis nodded, and before departing, said, "We’ll see each other again at Rayne’s memorial service." Tristan watched the old man leave, then turned back to his chaotic office and resumed his work.

Just as the prince had commanded, the rest of the army was dispatched to the frontlines. For the past two days, Bones had been observing as Wezar’s Kingdom forces relentlessly pressured the enemy with constant attacks. The north camp had grown increasingly active, and the battlefield had become more perilous with gold rankers dominating the fronts. Silver rankers found little space to participate, leaving only the strongest second-tiers in the fray, while bronze rankers were ordered to sit this one out.

It's been a little over a week since I arrived at the frontlines. I've seen enough. It's time I took on a more active role.

Bones had gathered ample information to understand the lay of the land. Under the overwhelming pressure on the south camp, the Aphitonians had begun a slow retreat. The first to withdraw were low-level soldiers and adventurers. From his concealed vantage point, Bones watched as larger groups of soldiers passed by, carefully tracking smaller groups and individuals.

While individual soldiers were manageable, groups of two or three posed a greater challenge. None of the soldiers Bones encountered were of a lower level than him. Now, he lay in wait, prepared to ambush three men struggling against the water through the swampy terrain.

He moved with the silence of a shadow, leaping from tree to tree, branch to branch. A hardened layer of mud caked over his skeletal frame had served as perfect camouflage these past few days. Keeping his aura tightly suppressed, Bones was nearly impossible to detect. His low level and relatively modest power compared to others further reduced his aura output. Still, those with keen perception or classes specializing in tracking could sometimes sense his presence before he struck. But they never saw Skully coming from above, and Bones had been exploiting this tactic ever since.

The three men he was stalking were making their way back to the Aphitonian main army, stationed just beyond the border. With gold rankers clashing at the south camp and its surroundings, most soldiers were forced to take a roundabout route, which led them through the treacherous swamps. Bones maneuvered ahead of them, positioning himself for the ambush.

As the three men came within twenty meters, Bones sprang into action. Clinging to the trunk fifteen meters above the ground, his bony fingers dug into the tree bark. He flung himself toward a tree four meters away, then another, until he was directly above his targets. Not wanting to squander the element of surprise, Bones wasted no time. He dived straight down, leaving his golem core suspended in the air behind him, allowing gravity to do the rest.

Bones cast Bone Spikes and summoned a Bone Lance in his hand, ready to strike. Yet, his element of surprise faltered. All three men, highly alert and quick to react, heard him as he took off. They looked up just in time. Two of them leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding his ambush and the spikes that shot towards them. The third man, however, reacted a moment too late and was pinned to the ground. Bones rammed the lance through the man's head as they both fell, splashing into the swamp below.

The two remaining men unsheathed their weapons in an instant, adopting an offensive stance. The man on the right shouted a warning, while the one on the left hesitated, suddenly paralyzed as Bones’ Soul Gaze bore into his very essence. It was just a fleeting moment—a single second—but long enough for Skully to appear above him, thrusting the spear through the man’s collarbone and piercing his heart. In a span of three seconds, both men lay dead.

The third man, witnessing the swift demise of his comrades, chose to flee. It was a poor decision. Running in the swamp water was slow and laborious. Bones raised his hand, casting a rapid series of Bone Lances. The first, cast in haste, missed and impaled a tree beside the man’s head. The second hit his shoulder, the third his hip, and the fourth tore through his hamstring. Four spells cast in less than a second. The man collapsed into the murky water, which swallowed him whole, turning red with his blood.

Bones took a few cautious steps forward but then halted as ripples spread across the water's surface. The heavily wounded man began thrashing violently before suddenly falling silent. The water calmed once more, though now it was stained with blood.

"Bloody leeches!" Bones spat, watching as the water returned to its eerie stillness.