Reyon strode through the dimly lit corridors of the underground stronghold, his footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. His mind churned through the layers of his plan, calculating every move before the final confrontation with Berth.
"First of all, I need to make sure Squad 5 is completely on my side," he thought. "To do that, I can use their loyalty to their previous squad captain."
It had always been suspicious—how their old leader had vanished overnight without a trace. No one knew what had happened to him. He wasn't like Berth; from everything Reyon had heard, he had been a noble-minded warrior who had wanted to end corruption within the kingdom and stop the discrimination against commoners. If such a person disappeared without explanation, the one person who would have benefited the most was Berth.
"Duke Callius should know something about this," Reyon decided, turning his steps toward the royal dungeons.
The air in the dungeon was thick with the scent of damp stone and rusting iron. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows over the prisoners confined in their cells. The deeper Reyon walked, the quieter it became, until he reached a heavy iron door. Beyond it, locked away from the rest, was Duke Callius.
Reyon pushed the door open, stepping inside the chamber where the disgraced noble sat on a simple wooden bench, bound by enchanted cuffs that prevented the use of magic. Duke Callius looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing when he saw Reyon.
"How are you, Duke Callius?" Reyon asked with a faint smirk.
The noble scoffed, shifting his wrists uncomfortably. "What do you mean, how am I? This is the worst I've ever been in my life."
Reyon's expression didn't change. "Don't worry, Duke. You'll be released soon, once the investigation concludes."
Callius raised an eyebrow, sensing that Reyon's visit had a purpose beyond small talk. "And what exactly do you want from me?" he asked.
Reyon's voice was calm, yet laced with something unreadable. "I need a favor."
The duke's lips curled slightly. "Please, state it. You saved my life before, so I will try my best to return the favor."
Reyon's gaze hardened. "Tell me about the previous captain of Squad 5. How did he disappear?"
At those words, the noble's expression darkened. His hands clenched into fists as he exhaled slowly. "So you already suspect the truth…" he murmured. "You're absolutely correct. The previous squad captain was a noble-minded man—one of the few within the Classers who truly fought for justice. Because of that, he and Berth clashed many times."
Callius paused before continuing, his tone bitter. "One day, Berth gave him a mission. He ordered him to kill a commoner merchant, claiming the man was involved in human trafficking. But the captain wasn't a fool—he investigated the matter and discovered Berth was lying. The merchant was innocent. So, instead of executing him, the captain chose to protect him."
Reyon's hands tightened into fists. "So that's how it was..."
Callius's gaze sharpened. "But Berth was already expecting that. He had sent Cyrus ahead, lying in wait. And when the captain tried to save the merchant… Cyrus killed them both."
Rage surged through Reyon's veins. His jaw clenched as his nails dug into his palm. "Berth... that bastard! I can't believe such filth became the leader of the Classers. Just because he's an 8th-circle magician doesn't mean he can hide his crimes. I'll make sure he pays for everything."
Taking a deep breath, Reyon forced his anger down and met Callius's gaze. "Thank you, Duke. Rest well."
The noble gave a tired nod, but as he prepared to turn away, Reyon suddenly reached out and grasped his wrist.
"What are you doing?" Callius demanded, but before he could pull away, Reyon injected a thin thread of mana into his body.
"Nothing serious," Reyon said smoothly. "Just a little precaution to keep you safe from assassins."
Callius stared at him for a moment before sighing. "...Thank you, Reyon. I will never forget your kindness when I regain my freedom."
Reyon offered him a faint smile, but as he walked away, his thoughts turned cold. "Hmph. Do you think you'll get to live freely after Berth's death? You're one of the reasons corruption spread in the first place. The moment Berth dies, you'll have no more use to me." His fingers twitched slightly, sensing the minuscule pulse of his mana inside Callius's body. "The mana trace I left inside you can explode at my command. When the time comes… you'll die with the rest of them."
By the time Reyon reached the Classers' headquarters, his mind was razor-sharp with focus. Moving swiftly, he arrived at the barracks of Squad 5. Inside, dozens of elite warriors were gathered, some sharpening their weapons, others conversing in low voices. The moment Reyon entered, a hush fell over them.
They regarded him with wary eyes. Though they recognized his strength, they had never truly accepted him as their leader. Their loyalty had always belonged to their previous captain.
Reyon took a deep breath and addressed them firmly. "Listen up."
The squad turned toward him, some crossing their arms, others frowning.
"What I'm about to say may scare you," Reyon continued, "but you need to listen carefully. This will determine the future of the Classers."
Murmurs spread among them, but no one interrupted.
"As you all know, the Classers were originally founded to punish corrupt nobles," Reyon said. "But under Berth's leadership, they've strayed from their purpose. Instead of fighting corruption, Berth has used our strength for his own personal gain—enhancing the very corruption we swore to destroy."
Several squad members exchanged glances, their eyes flickering with unease.
"And because of that," Reyon continued, his voice growing sharper, "your previous leader clashed with Berth. He disappeared—but we all know the truth, don't we? Berth was behind his death."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
One of the warriors finally spoke. "We… we knew. We suspected, at least. But Berth is too strong. He's an 8th-circle magician. Even the royal family doesn't provoke him. If we tried to assassinate him, the other squads and Cyrus would have wiped us out before we even got close."
Reyon took a step forward. "You won't have to worry about the other squads. The royal family will handle them. And as for Cyrus… I already killed him."
Gasps erupted across the room. Disbelief filled their faces.
"You're lying!" one of them accused.
Without a word, Reyon reached into his coat and pulled out a ring—the distinctive signet ring Berth had given to Cyrus, the one he never took off. He held it up for all to see.
A long silence followed.
Then, slowly, understanding dawned in their eyes. Their disbelief gave way to something stronger: determination. Anger. Revenge.
Reyon clenched his fist. "I'm going to kill Berth. And I need you with me. Not just to take down a tyrant—but to avenge your captain."
A warrior stepped forward, his expression firm. "Leader, we would give our lives to defeat Berth."
A second warrior nodded. "For the squad captain… we'll fight."
One by one, the warriors of Squad 5 swore their allegiance.
Reyon smiled grimly. "Berth… your time is up."