"Whoa—so fast!"
Across the vast grasslands, Yuhran's sprinting figure was like a surging gale.
Behind him, Milliarde urged her horse onward in hot pursuit.
No matter how hard she tried, she could only watch his back recede into the distance.
The icy wind brushed past his ears. Yuhran leapt lightly, exhilaration flooding his chest.
Thirty meters per second—equivalent to 108 kilometers per hour. In his wildest dreams, he'd never imagined running at such speed with nothing but his own body.
If this were the real world, it would easily qualify as an urban legend.
"Hiss—"
Suddenly, a sharp soreness shot through his lower body. Yuhran's brows knit tightly as he slammed on the brakes.
He looked down to see his calves twitching violently. As expected, his muscles had reached their limit.
Even with wind-assisted acceleration, he still had to rely on leg strength to propel himself forward.
That was one of the drawbacks of this type of item—but being able to turn the tables at a critical moment was more than enough.
Yuhran let out a long breath, adjusted his breathing, and slowly sat down.
As he massaged his aching calves, he gazed toward the distant grasslands. Before long, he spotted Milliarde riding toward him.
After she arrived and used magic to ease his fatigue, Yuhran stood up again and swung smoothly back onto the horse.
A warm current flowed through his body.
"Thanks for that," he said, looking ahead.
"No need," Milliarde replied with a gentle shake of her head. "The stronger you become, the smoother our journey to the Central Continent will be."
Shaton's appearance had made her realize just how important cooperation was—the stronger her companion, the better.
She took a pocket watch from her cloak, glanced at the time, and continued:
"So you can only keep running for three minutes?"
"For now, three minutes," Yuhran replied. "As long as I keep pushing myself to the limit, my physical strength will keep improving."
As he spoke, he suddenly realized how well his breathing technique matched his current state.
Before, it took half a day of training to reach his limit. Now, three minutes of all-out sprinting produced noticeable results.
He'd even wanted to replace that technique before…
His expression turned slightly helpless.
Milliarde nodded and gently flicked the reins, the horse continuing forward.
They were still ten li from the dragon's lair. If nothing unexpected happened, they'd arrive before nightfall.
With Yuhran's current strength, even without her help, he could probably handle things fairly easily.
During this time, she needed to think more about developing her magic.
Against enemies, simple explosive spells were still too one-dimensional.
Her gaze drifted briefly toward his back, then snapped away—should she ask him?
She still vividly remembered how Yuhran had unraveled her magic with just a few words…
"Yuhran, you—"
After much hesitation, she decided to speak—just as Yuhran spoke at the same time.
"Milliarde—"
They both paused. Perhaps it was a kind of tacit understanding. Yuhran raised his hand, signaling for her to speak first.
After hearing that she wanted advice on developing her magic, Yuhran rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then nodded.
"No problem. I'll just need some time. Your magic power is already more than sufficient—last time, you were simply countered by bad luck."
That could only be chalked up to poor luck. Of course, luck was also a form of strength.
He didn't dwell on her hesitant expression. After a brief pause, he continued:
"When we get close to the lair later, let me off. I need to leave for a bit. It won't take long—I'll be back by tomorrow morning."
To do a job well, one must first sharpen one's tools. He had no idea how strong a ryū's defenses were, so he had to prepare in advance.
Milliarde was curious about where Yuhran was going, but after days of traveling together, she was already used to his secrets. Feeling reassured, she nodded lightly.
"Hiiih—!"
With the horse's whinny, the hoofbeats came to a halt. At dusk, the two dismounted in an open area about a kilometer from the lair.
After setting up the tent, night fell completely, and starlight illuminated their surroundings.
Milliarde had just finished washing up. As she wiped the water from her face and looked up, she realized Yuhran was gone.
She couldn't help but sigh, thinking of that mysterious door…
A mysterious human. Who knew when he'd finally open his heart to her?
"Glug, glug~"
Not far away, a pot bubbled vigorously. White and yellow ingredients churned together, releasing an unusual aroma that instantly pulled her thoughts back to reality.
"Gulp~"
She swallowed instinctively.
Well, things had come this far.
Eat first.
She was increasingly aware of just how much she relied on Yuhran.
...
Japan.
A group of boys crept together toward a narrow alley.
Dusk had fallen. One of them nervously scanned the surroundings and, seeing no police on guard, relaxed slightly in surprise.
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Nice—we're pretty lucky. Looks like it's nothing serious."
"This afternoon, even the internet went down. I thought something big was going to—"
Before he could finish, another boy raised a finger and softly shushed him.
Who knew if the police were hiding nearby? Sneaking over here already violated school rules.
But curiosity was hard to resist. Besides, they weren't getting into any good universities anyway—might as well enjoy life while they could.
The speaker nodded. As they got closer and saw the ruins before them, he sucked in a sharp breath.
"What… is this?"
Anyone who didn't know better would think this was a battlefield in some foreign country.
A relatively timid boy took a few steps back—and promptly bumped into something hard and ice-cold.
Thud.
His neck stiffened instantly. His teeth chattered as he told himself not to panic, not to panic—then forced himself to turn around.
Under the dim moonlight stood a burly man with a stern expression.
That sharp gaze was fixed squarely on him.
"Ah—!"
...
Not far away, inside a police car disguised for surveillance.
Two officers sipped coffee, watching on the screen as plainclothes cops reprimanded the students. They shook their heads helplessly.
An elderly officer unwrapped a hamburger and ate it slowly, one bite at a time, his brows slightly furrowed.
"These high school kids… sigh."
Back in his own youth, he'd been just as impulsive. But now he'd learned better—tired was fine, as long as safety was ensured.
Gang shootouts? Fooling ghosts. He hadn't smelled even a trace of gunpowder. Clearly, this was caused by something unconventional.
As his thoughts wandered through various conspiracy theories, a drone suddenly appeared above the alley and swiftly flew toward the depths of the city.
The officers hidden in the shadows froze when they saw it.
They had orders to watch out for foreign operatives stealing intelligence—the Public Security Bureau.
Wait… this blatant? Not even pretending anymore?
A younger officer cursed under his breath and reached for his gun, only to have a senior grab his arm and stop him.
This was very likely something from America—or…
Better to tail it quietly.
With a series of hand signals, over thirty percent of the Public Security officers withdrew from the area.
Yet three minutes later, another drone appeared—this one flying even faster.
The expressions on the officers' faces nearly cracked, but they could only grit their teeth and pursue again.
Watching this unfold through the screen, Yuhran nearly burst out laughing.
This was probably what everyone seeing enemies everywhere looked like.
There were still ten drones beside him. To be safe, all fingerprints and identifying marks on them had already been wiped clean.
—That should be enough.
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