Chapter Seventeen
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Outside the warehouse walls, where the alleys of the poor district begin, a lone man stood.
The fog around him had faded, but the coldness in his eyes remained.
He looked at his hand—the one that had held the sword minutes ago. He saw no blood. He felt nothing.
It was over.
But he knew it was not truly over yet.
From afar, he heard shouting—the Qaz Lords discovering the body.
He turned.
And walked toward the unknown.
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In a vast, radiant green land where neither hiss nor roar could be heard, a tall, solidly built man staggered.
His face was clear, and his black eyes were cold like the depths of the sea. His features were blurred, unreadable, and his long black robe had darkened in certain places around the chest and waist.
He stood there, gasping with difficulty. Sweat and exhaustion were drawn across his face despite the cold calm of his features.
Before him stood a gigantic tree. Its height reached dozens of meters, its trunk was enormous, and its width matched it.
Yet despite its size, it still stood beneath the canopy of trees even larger than itself.
It was a tree that was still growing.
Karsu lay down on the ground, his back resting against the trunk, his arms loose upon his thighs.
He closed his eyes and began to breathe slowly, repeating in his mind:
"Mother Aura... is the origin of all auras... the Mother Aura is the origin of the—"
He stopped to cough. Then continued:
"The Mother Aura... the origin of all auras..."
He repeated the phrase again and again, trying to clear his mind of the crowded thoughts and plans.
This time he was not charging his core, but recycling his aura—a process not very different from charging the core in terms of the need for mental clarity, yet different in difficulty and method. Recycling depended entirely on breathing, while charging the core required comfortable positions and deeper focus.
Experienced aura users did not need to sit cross-legged or assume specific postures. They could recycle their aura simply through steady breathing, in any position, even while standing.
But Karsu chose to lie down.
"The aura divides into two branches, primary and secondary... the aura divides into two branches, primary and secondary..."
He repeated the phrases slowly, and his features began to relax. His breathing grew deeper. He was on the verge of sinking into the depths.
—
At that moment—
A sudden movement.
His arms braced against the ground, lifting his body slightly, then his legs twisted in the air in a swift motion that lasted less than a second.
His right foot—the one that was supposed to be dead—hung in the air for a moment, then shot backward in a blind kick.
"BOOM!"
The strike was violent enough to create a sonic burst. A brief silence followed, then the sound of a body crashing against a nearby tree trunk, followed by broken coughing and the spitting of saliva.
"Ugh…"
The figure of the Lord of Transparency staggered as it emerged from nothingness, leaning against a tree and clutching his chest.
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Minutes earlier
The Lord of Transparency stood a hundred meters away from Karsu, hidden behind a tree trunk. He knew Karsu's Sadeem was powerful, and that his ability to detect concealment might fail if he approached closer. But every power had a range. At this distance, he was safe.
Or so he thought.
He saw Karsu lie down, close his eyes, begin repeating those phrases. He waited until his features sank into stillness, until the repetition stopped, until he looked like a living corpse.
Now.
He moved.
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Present
"What is this nonsense?!" the Lord of Transparency shouted, his face reddening with rage and humiliation. "How do you stop me every time?! Can you see me?! Can you actually see me, you bastard?!"
Karsu stood looking at him. His black eyes did not blink. He did not appear surprised. He did not appear moved.
A simple sigh escaped him.
He looked at the Lord of Transparency with steady eyes and said calmly:
"Qaz Lords differ by nature. Among them are the kind, the wicked, and the neutral. Among them are the strong and the weak. But there is one thing they all share: their drift toward the emotions of their Qaz. And the Qaz by nature is greedy. With the greed of humans added to it... the recklessness and arrogance that emerge are beyond imagining."
He paused briefly, then continued:
"You are no different. You are merely a first-level Qaz Lord pretending to be second-level, exploiting your Qaz's ability to make your true level difficult to detect."
With every word, the Lord of Transparency's face changed. The redness faded into pallor, then returned again.
"You are just an adolescent who thinks the world lies in his grasp. A mere... villager."
---
The Lord of Transparency exploded:
"And what do you know about me?! And how do you stop me?! And what is this word you keep repeating—'villagers'?! Do you think you're above us just because you're a third-level Qaz Lord while still young?!"
He stepped forward, his voice trembling:
"Don't get arrogant! My future is brighter than anyone's! I will become the strongest! My future stands at the peak!"
He gasped, then continued:
"You look down on me because I haven't reached the second level yet?! Even though I'm close to twenty?! That's not my fault! I carry a powerful Qaz, so it's natural that I would progress slower than my peers!"
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Silence.
Karsu did not respond.
He only smiled.
A smile of pity.
Then he moved his finger.
—
A thin silver thread shot from the tip of his finger, faster than the eye could follow. The Lord of Transparency did not need to see it—his danger sense had saved him countless times before. He retreated by instinct, barely avoiding it, but the thread passed beside his face, leaving a trace of cold along his skin.
He leapt backward, landed on the ground, and lifted his eyes to find Karsu before him—not meters away, but only a single step away.
"Next time... you won't evade."
Karsu's voice was calm. Lethal.
The Lord of Transparency froze. Cold sweat crept beneath his invisible mask. His eyes widened.
He did not wait any longer.
He turned.
And vanished.
—
Karsu stood alone beneath the gigantic tree.
He looked toward the distant horizon, where the sky had begun to turn yellow.
He whispered in a voice barely audible:
"Villagers..."
Then he lay back down on the ground and closed his eyes again. A smile formed on his face, and he tightened his hand until it became a completely clenched fist.
"ZZZZZZZ"
—
Elsewhere
At the edge of the city, where the poor alleys meet the dirt road leading beyond the walls, a man with ordinary features stood. Nothing about him drew attention.
He looked toward the distant warehouses, where smoke was still rising.
"So... it's over."
He said it quietly, then turned his back and walked toward the forest.
But before he disappeared among the trees, he stopped.
Something in the air had changed.
He slowly turned.
A few steps away stood another man. Light fog surrounded him, and silver eyes glimmered in the shadow.
The Lord of Mist.
"You... who are you?"
The Lord of Mist did not answer. He simply stared at him with those cold eyes.
Then—
He vanished.
Just like that. As if he had never existed.
Leaving the ordinary man standing there alone, asking himself:
Who was that? And what did he want?
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Continued in the next chapter The next chapter has already been released