Inside the suffocating Silent Domain, the silence felt like a heavy weight pressing against my chest.
The black dome covered the entire field, swallowing the training ground in a dim, unnatural gloom. No wind entered from the outside. No distant sound from the village reached us. Even the frightened breaths behind me sounded strangely dull, as if the darkness itself was pressing down on every voice.
I stood straight and forced my breathing to remain even. Cold sweat had begun to dampen my back beneath my shirt, but I kept my face calm. In front of everyone here, I could not afford to show fear. If I wavered, the people behind me would collapse into panic.
Across from us, the black-haired young man stood with a relaxed expression. He looked far too calm for someone who had just trapped an entire field inside a mysterious black domain. His shoulders were loose, his gaze amused, and the corner of his mouth carried a faint smile, as if this whole situation was nothing more than entertainment to him.
"So," I said coldly, letting my voice echo through the dark space, "how much did Baron Leonard pay you for this?"
The man tilted his head slightly.
I watched his expression carefully and continued, "That greedy bastard must be truly desperate after I ruined his reputation. To think he would send a monster like you just to take revenge."
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then a burst of laughter exploded through the dome.
"Bahahahaha!"
His laughter struck the curved black walls and bounced back from every direction. The sound was loud, sharp, and filled with mockery. He bent forward and clutched his stomach as if I had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard. A few of the former slaves flinched at the sound and shrank back behind the others.
"Leonard?" he said at last, wiping at the corner of his eye. "Who the hell is that bastard? I don't even know the trash you're talking about."
His answer made the air around us grow colder.
My eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, I could not speak. Behind me, I heard several people draw in sharp breaths. Arad shifted his stance almost silently, his feet pressing against the dirt as he prepared to move at any moment.
What? He is not Leonard's man?
That realization did not make the situation better. If anything, it made everything worse. If Baron Leonard had sent him, then at least there would have been a clear motive. Revenge, anger, wounded pride—those things could be understood.
But this man was different.
He was not here because of orders.
He was here because he wanted to be.
"I'm not here because anyone sent me," the man continued, his grin slowly widening into something cruel. "I came here for my own damn amusement."
His gaze moved past me and landed on the Rank E mercenaries gathered behind our line. Those men, who had been full of pride not long ago, now stood stiffly with pale faces. Some gripped their swords, but their fingers trembled around the hilts.
"I love seeing the despair on the faces of lowly ants," he said. "Especially trash like Rank E mercenaries. You commoner dogs swing a sword a few times and suddenly think you're warriors. But the moment someone stronger stands in front of you, all that courage turns into piss."
Several mercenaries lowered their eyes, their faces twisting with humiliation and fear.
The man chuckled.
"My favorite hobby is torturing and slaughtering weak bastards like you while pretending to be one of you. I stand in your line, laugh with you, act like some useless mercenary, and wait until the play becomes fun." His eyes curved with pleasure. "And you know, Fragha? When you released your Intimidation Aura earlier, I even pretended to faint just to keep the act going. In truth, I could have crushed that weak little aura of yours as easily as turning over my hand."
A heavier silence followed his words.
No one dared to move.
Then, from the back of the group, a trembling whisper broke through the fear.
"That habit..." one of the mercenaries muttered, his voice shaking badly. "No... no way. Isn't he Amonn? The one famous for torturing the weak?"
The name spread through the crowd like a sickness.
"Amonn?"
"That bastard is Amonn?"
"I heard he enjoys hunting slaves and commoners."
"They say an entire village disappeared because he got bored..."
The whispers grew, low and frightened. Some people knew the name. Others did not, but they understood enough from the terror spreading through the mercenaries' faces. Amonn was known as one of the members of a mysterious bloodthirsty group, a monster who did not hesitate to torture slaves, the weak, and ordinary people. To him, commoners were nothing more than insects crawling beneath his feet.
I felt fear gnawing at the inside of my stomach.
It was real. Cold. Sharp. Unpleasant.
But I kept my shoulders firm.
Behind me were former slaves who had only just begun to believe they might have a future. There were workers, frightened mercenaries, Hana, Oderick, and Arad. If I broke first, everyone behind me would break with me.
So I stood still, even as every instinct inside me screamed that this enemy was far beyond what we could handle.
"The little play is over," Amonn said.
His body suddenly rose into the air.
There was no jump and no movement from his legs. He simply floated upward, as if gravity had no hold over him. His worn mercenary appearance began to blur, and the disguise covering him faded away like smoke being peeled from his body.
His true form appeared before us.
A man wrapped in a pitch-black robe hovered above the field. The robe covered his entire body, even hiding his hair beneath its dark folds. On his face was a plain white mask with a smiling expression carved into it, bearing a black symbol of justice—the scales of judgment—right in the center of its forehead.
That frozen smile made the fear around us even worse.
Amonn looked down at us from above.
"Torture these ants," he said, his voice filled with contempt. "My golems."
The ground inside the domain began to tremble.
At first, it was only a low vibration beneath my boots. Then the shaking grew stronger, running through the field until several people stumbled and grabbed onto each other for balance. Cracks spread across the dark soil. The earth bulged upward as if something massive was forcing its way out from below.
Rumble... rumble...
Huge arms burst from the ground.
Screams erupted from the crowd.
Giant earth golems rose one after another from within the field. Their bodies were formed from packed soil and stone, rough and heavy, with enormous fists as large as wooden barrels. Each step they took made the ground shake beneath us.
I immediately released my Intimidation Aura toward the approaching golems.
An invisible pressure surged from my body and crashed toward them. I knew very well that my skill was not meant for direct combat. It could not destroy these creatures, nor could it turn the situation around by itself. Even so, the aura struck their movements and forced them to slow slightly.
Only slightly.
But in this situation, even that small delay mattered.
After releasing the mental pressure, I stepped back toward a safer position. I could not stand at the front and allow myself to be crushed by a single careless blow.
"Protect Lord Fragha!" Arad Youssef roared.
His voice cut through the panic.
Arad moved without hesitation. he rushed forward before the nearest golem could fully raise its fist. His body shot across the dirt with explosive strength, placing himself between the massive creature and the terrified people behind us.
The golem swung its enormous arm downward.
Whoosh!
The heavy fist came crashing toward him.
Arad met it head-on.
Thud!
The impact shook the ground. Arad crossed his arms and blocked the blow with pure physical strength. His boots sank slightly into the dirt, and his muscles tightened beneath the force, but he did not fall. With a harsh grunt, he pushed back and forced the golem's arm away.
"Hana!" I shouted. "Support Arad from behind!"
Hana Frieland stepped forward at once.
Her face was pale, but her gaze remained sharp. Fear was visible in her expression, yet she did not retreat. Magic gathered around both of her hands—heat burned around one, while cold mist curled around the other.
"Take this!"
A burst of flame shot from her hand, followed by sharp chunks of ice. The fire and ice slammed into the golem's hard body, cracking pieces of earth from its surface and giving Arad a precious opening.
Arad used that moment immediately. He advanced, blocked another heavy strike, and struck back with the determination of a true knight. His body became a living shield in front of the former slaves and workers.
Behind him, Hana continued to bombard the golems with fire and ice, supporting Arad as he faced their crushing blows at close range.