Volume 2, Chapter 55 – The Imperial Fallen Strike

At the same moment the Blazing Eyeworm vanished.

In a dimly lit room illuminated only by candlelight, Ander stared at the translucent vermilion sphere in his hand, lost in thought.

Though they had been ambushed by vampire forces just before entering Celtic City, losing four more men, they had finally reached relatively safe territory. They rented a residence in Baron Wells’ estate and, from the baron himself, obtained this stolen crimson crystal.

“What… is this?”

“It contains immense magical energy. I suspect it isn’t a product of the Alexia Continent at all—it might be a relic left behind by the gods.”

A grey-robed spellcaster answered, his brows furrowed in such solemnity that it was clear he wasn’t lying.

Ander nodded in satisfaction at his subordinate’s words.

“I think so too. But is this a demon egg? Or a magic core? If it’s a core, what level of monster could produce something with such pure magic? Did that Baron Wells say how he got it?”

“That fat pig claimed it’s an artifact called the [Eye of Dusk], stolen from Margaret Tavern—a place run by someone named Yisi.”

“And this cleric Yisi just handed over a divine treasure like this?”

Ander frowned. Even magic cores from monsters above level 50—those surpassing the realm of heroes—were only the size of a fist. A fist-sized core could fetch millions of gold coins and was considered a priceless treasure. But the Eye of Dusk in his hand was nearly the size of a human head. Its value was beyond measure.

Ander gulped. Just possessing this core would make him a target for countless powerful hunters.

Yet his subordinate’s next words left him baffled.

“Yes. The fat baron said the Eye of Dusk was thrown into the tavern’s stove by a maid to use as firewood. When they found it, it was already burning.”

“Outrageous!”

Ander’s roar caused the Eye of Dusk in his hand to tremble. Horrified, he quickly clutched it tightly. If this priceless treasure shattered, the Emperor would skin him alive.

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Clearing his throat, Ander pressed, “Baron Wells really said that? The tavern’s idiots used the Eye of Dusk as kindling?”

“Absolutely true, Captain.”

“Hmph. A bunch of ignorant fools. If their ancestors knew, they’d probably crawl out of their graves in fury.”

Forget their ancestors—even he was seething. How dare they set fire to a magic core? The last madman who tried that was already dead.

While most magic cores were stable and difficult to detonate, cores of different attributes had unique traits. The Eye of Dusk was clearly a fire-attribute. Any fire-attribute core would explode immediately upon contact with flame. Ander didn’t understand why the Eye of Dusk hadn’t exploded when lit, but he was grateful. If those idiot maids had triggered it, he wouldn’t have it now.

The discovery of the Eye of Dusk also reinforced Ander’s belief that Yisi possessed witchcraft. Previously, he had relied on a comrade with the ‘Interrogation’ spell to question Baron Wells and verify the truth.

The ‘Interrogation’ magic forced the subject to answer truthfully in a question-and-answer format.

Now, the Eye of Dusk itself served as evidence. Anyone capable of producing such a powerful artifact must possess considerable strength—and witchcraft was undoubtedly part of that power.

“We must deliver this to His Majesty immediately. No one else can know, or we’ll invite disaster. Send someone now!”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Where’s No. 3? I ordered him to prepare for tonight’s assault. Why hasn’t he reported back?”

As soon as he spoke, rhythmic knocking came from the wooden door—a prearranged signal among Ander’s team.

His subordinate turned to him excitedly.

“Captain, No. 3 has returned!”

“Good. Enter.”

A man clad entirely in black pushed the door open. He bowed to Ander before delivering a concise report.

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“An anomaly. Church personnel entered the tavern.”

“What?”

Ander’s brows knitted together. If there was one thing he didn’t want right now, it was Yisi being taken away by the Church. With fewer than twenty men under his command—even if his squad of Fallen was elite—they stood no chance against the hundreds-strong city guard. Worse, Yisi herself was around level 10. A direct assault had almost zero chance of success.

“And then?”

Anxiety drove Ander to press further, even gripping No. 3’s shoulders unconsciously.

“The target wasn’t taken. High Priest Daniel seemed to be in a hurry and left by carriage.”

“Ha—” Ander exhaled in relief, then threw his head back and laughed like a triumphant warrior. “Hahahaha! The Emperor’s will has moved the gods! Even the heavens are on our side! Those Church fools will never realize their oversight today will doom them for eternity!”

The spellcaster subordinate chimed in appropriately.

“Indeed, Captain.”

“Captain, shall we move now? The tavern is closed. I waited until their lights went out before returning. No one left in the meantime. No. 7 is holding the position for me.”

“All eight of them are inside?”

“Correct.”

No. 3’s answer made Ander’s face light up with glee. He could already see himself free of the Fallen curse, receiving rewards from the Emperor.

“Good. Excellent! As we’ve scouted, only four of them are combatants—two spellcasters and two warriors. Aside from Yisi at level 10, the rest are weaklings below level 8. No. 3, rally the others. We move now!”

“Yes!”

……

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Preparations had long been complete. Under the cover of night, Ander and his men, clad in black, swiftly surrounded the tavern.

Their encirclement was undetectable to ordinary people. They moved across rooftops like spiders on a web, their agility and the darkness making them invisible to all but professionals or vampires with superior night vision.

A black-clad figure—leaping between roofs like a rat—approached Ander. His whisper only deepened the air of impending malice.

“Captain, all is ready. We move on your command.”

“Recite the plan once more. No. 3 and No. 7 will guard the front and back doors. The rest storm the tavern. The target has silver hair and blue eyes. Once found, take her immediately. If she resists, her legs may be severed. Kill everyone else—leave no witnesses. Minimize noise. We’re in Hels Kingdom territory. If the city guard notices, things will get complicated.”

“Understood.”

Watching his subordinate depart, Ander blew into his hands, rubbing them together.

“Damn, this backwater is freezing. But once this is done, I can return home in peace. I wonder what rewards the Emperor will bestow.”

As he spoke, he touched the hard object in his chest pocket—a crystal called the [Empire’s Blessing]. Crushing it would summon a monstrous entity capable of shattering mountains.

As captain of a secret unit, he had witnessed the creature’s form.

A monster wreathed in green flames, its body composed of three massive stones. A central diamond-shaped boulder served as its torso, flanked by two smaller rocks, all connected by emerald fire. Even Ander, well-traveled as he was, had never seen such a creature. Not that its appearance mattered—only its power.

Once, the Emperor had demonstrated the [Empire’s Blessing] to the seven captains of the secret units. Though the monster lasted less than three minutes, its devastation surpassed that of ten thousand soldiers, rivaling even an adult dragon.

Mountains were split, the earth cracked. Every punch from the stone behemoth caused quakes. Ander was certain even city walls would crumble in one blow. It was a being beyond human limits.

Thus, if their mission failed, Ander planned to use the [Empire’s Blessing] in the city. Originally intended for an assault on Hermion Tower, curing the Fallen took priority now.

Soon, a sound like a cat’s wail reached Ander’s ears—a long, mournful cry signaling his team was ready.

Cupping his hands, he blew a soft whistle. Then, blending into the night, he descended the wall vertically, moving effortlessly through obstacles.

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“Hm?”

The moment his feet touched the ground, Ander felt as if he had passed through something—like walking face-first into a spiderweb. As a seasoned captain, he didn’t dismiss the anomaly. He backtracked, trying to recreate the sensation, but it didn’t recur no matter how he tried.

Probably just his imagination. Frowning, he stepped forward again. Still nothing.

Perhaps pre-battle nerves were making him paranoid. Remembering his waiting team, he dismissed the thought and moved toward the backyard as planned.

As expected, all fifteen subordinates were pressed against the rear wall, awaiting orders.

Nodding, Ander signaled the next phase.

The tavern housed two frost wolf pups. Normally silent, they would bark if intruders entered the yard. Animals reacted faster than humans, so the wolves had to be eliminated before breaching the tavern.

Two crossbow-wielding Fallens climbed atop a human ladder, peering over the wall. Normally, the wolves were tied to a stake in the yard by a woman named Fran—well within crossbow range.

But after a long wait, Ander heard no bolts being loaded. He looked up to see the two men climbing down.

Something was wrong.

Ander’s face darkened.

“What’s the matter?”

His whisper was barely audible to avoid detection.

“Captain, the ice wolf pups aren’t there.”

One of the archers replied.