Reyon, battered and bruised from the epic confrontation, slowly pushed himself to his feet. The acrid smell of scorched earth mingled with the fading tang of magic, and the ruined hall of the headquarters of the Classers lay in silent witness to the battle that had just unfolded. Though every inch of his body ached, his mind was razor-sharp with purpose. With grim determination, he staggered toward the cluster of his loyal Squad 5 members, his eyes burning with an intensity that defied the pain coursing through him.
"Gather all remaining members of the Classers!" Reyon commanded in a low but resolute tone. His voice, though strained, carried authority. "Even those informers who never take part in a fight—everyone"
One by one, figures emerged from the dim corners of the headquarters: grizzled warriors, cautious mages, and even the silent informers who typically hid in the shadows. They gathered in a semicircle around him in the central hall—a hall now scarred and broken by the earlier cataclysmic spells.
Reyon climbed onto a battered wooden crate to address them, his voice echoing off the cracked stone walls. "I have killed Berth," he announced, each word punctuated by the pain in his body yet tempered by unwavering resolve. "I fought with the very idols of our Classers—the corrupt officials with whom Berth colluded i have had them locked in prison—and even avenged our previous squad leader."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered members, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and sorrow. "Therefore, I promise you that I shall not walk the path of corruption. I will follow our true idols—those who believe in ending the discrimination of commoners and the corrupt rule of nobles follow me as your leader!"
A low murmur ran through the crowd. Some faces, hardened by years of betrayal, softened with hope. Others nodded silently in agreement, their hearts stirred by the passionate conviction in Reyon's voice. In that moment, the shattered remnants of loyalty began to reform. Reyon had already ended those who were absolutely loyal to Berth; now, only the members driven by genuine ideals remained—the ones who truly wanted to end the corruption and discrimination that had long plagued their ranks.
After delivering his stirring speech, Reyon gave a curt nod and waved his hand. "Combat troops, disperse! You are no longer needed here. Informers, come forward—I must know: how much does the world know about my fight with Berth?"
A young informer, his face partially hidden under a hood, stepped timidly forward. "Most people believe that, due to an inner dispute, Berth was killed by members of the Classers themselves. They do not know your name, nor the truth of what transpired. The entire continent is in shock over the loss of one of the seven 8th-circle mages, yet no one knows who truly killed him."
Reyon's eyes narrowed as he pressed further, his voice steady. "And what about the noble family of Elise? Have they revealed anything?"
Another informer, speaking with quiet authority, replied, "No, they are too embarrassed. They couldn't bear the thought that not only could they not kill Berth themselves, but now someone else has taken him down before they even had the chance."
"Not even the Phoenix Household?" Reyon asked, leaning forward as if expecting a different answer.
A third informer, with a cautious tone, answered, "The information network of the Classers is scattered across the continent, yet even then, we have no insight into what truly happens within the Phoenix Household."
Reyon nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Yes, they are called the strongest for a reason. All right—you may now disperse."
As the informers melted back into the dim corridors, Reyon stood alone amid the wreckage of his former stronghold, his thoughts heavy with both triumph and despair. Even though many will not know what happened, my household—the Phoenix—will know. They will surely know that a man named Reyon killed Berth. But I doubt they will believe it's me how can anyone believe that a 5th-circle mage defeated an 8th-circle mage?
He exhaled slowly, his mind already shifting to more urgent matters. "Let's move onto important things," he muttered to himself, grimacing as he pressed a hand to his aching head. The relentless pain was overwhelming—a constant reminder of the Ring of Ferica's devastating toll.
Reyon retrieved a scrap of parchment and a quill from his satchel, his hands trembling as he began to write. When he finished, he sealed the letter with a flourish of ancient magic and sent it off in a swift burst of enchanted energy toward the Royal Palace. His message, clear and urgent, would soon reach Julie.
At the same time, in the opulent halls of the Royal Palace, Julie sat alone in her private study. The palace's grandeur was dimmed by the heavy burden of the recent battle, and her mind was consumed with contemplation. She replayed the fight between Reyon and Berth repeatedly in her thoughts, each moment etched into her memory.
"There is only one way Reyon could have defeated berth," she murmured, pacing slowly before a large window overlooking the courtyard. "It must have been an ancient artifact… these artifacts are said to be extinct. No other logical explanation exists. And such an artifact can only be used once."
Her eyes narrowed as she considered the implications. Just then, her attention was caught by the soft chime of a magical messenger. With trembling hands, she accepted the letter that had been sent from Reyon. As she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, her heart pounded rapidly.
Her eyes scanned the carefully inscribed words, and her suspicion crystallized into certainty. The letter declared:
"I want to make a deal with you. I have complete control over the Classers' now. If you make a trade with me, I will ensure that corruption is cut down. The Classers will no longer engage in illegal activities or protect corrupt nobles. Instead, they will aid in capturing them. In exchange, I require the Jewel of Elise."
Julie's face burned with a mix of anger and disbelief. How could he dare ask for the Jewel of Elise, the crown jewel of the royal family's legacy