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Yuria’s head rolled off. Her body, collapsing a beat later, convulsed. Finally, blood sprayed from the severed neck.

“What the… fuck…”

Ronan muttered in disbelief. Yuria still had her eyes brightly open. The leopard, sensing its master’s death, lunged at Shullifen.

“Khuueeeergh!”

Shullifen swung his sword again. The wind that blew along the blade brushed past the leopard’s throat. Clang! A white line appeared on the metal-covered neck, and the head fell.

“Kruhk?”

The stiff body of the leopard toppled sideways. Confirming the silence around him, Shullifen, who had checked that, lowered his sword. Staring blankly into the air, he collapsed on one knee.

“Ugh…”

“Damnit, are you okay?”

Ronan staggered toward Shullifen. It was challenging to control his body, as if he was suffering the effects the day after heavy drinking. Mimicking Teranill’s aura required much more mana than expected.

“Huuu…”

Shullifen did not respond. Unstable breath escaped through slightly parted lips. His pale complexion indicated a deteriorating condition. Ronan, noticing Shullifen’s gaze on his sword, raised his eyebrows.

“This is…!”

The sword wasn’t visible. Only the handle, stained with blood, was clutched in Shullifen’s hand. At that time, the sword body that had disappeared appeared with the sound of a low wind.

-Swaaaah…

It was like watching a scene where a bud rapidly grows into a flower. The swirling currents gathered and transformed into a blue blade. The mana emanating from the sword now gave a completely different impression than before.

‘It’s calm. But it has become sharper.’

While the previous mana felt like a wild storm, the current one resembled a gentle breeze blowing over a calm sea. It had the potential to evolve into a hurricane that could sweep the entire ocean at any moment. Ronan chuckled, amazed by the unexpected growth.

“Heh.”

It was a growth rate far beyond expectations. Even as the Rising Star of the Empire, he didn’t anticipate him reaching this level. It was the awakening of the aura.

“You monstrous bastard…”

Aura was an individual’s unique mana and the abilities derived from it. Those who diligently refined their aura would experience a sudden and radical improvement in their abilities. While most only saw an increase in the range or power of their existing aura, some underwent absurd transformations.

The representative example was Shullifen. Disassembling the sword into the form of wind and wielding it was the true form of Storm Sword that Ronan knew. It was the symbol of Shullifen, the strongest swordsman on the continent.

Ronan, who had no interest in others in his past life, genuinely envied the technique. If he had possessed it, he could have effortlessly torn apart the giants flying in the sky like the Winter Witch.

‘Damn it, my stomach hurts just by looking at it.’

Storm Sword offered countless possibilities. Compacting the wind in one place could create a fatal blow like just now, or spreading it widely could turn it into a strategic weapon capable of facing an army. Ronan vividly remembered Shullifen’s madness, covering the entire Roman Mountain Range with a storm, like a winter witch.

Compared to the power of his past life, it still seemed weak, but once he stepped into the realm of awakening, progress was only a matter of time. Ronan extended a potion to the staggering Shullifen.

“Take it. Unlucky bastard.”

“…Ronan.”

“You’re amazing. What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You awakened, damn it.”

Shullifen’s eyes widened. It seemed that he didn’t even realize that he had awakened. Accepting the potion in silence, he bowed his head.

“…Is that so? This sensation.”

“Come on. Tell me the secret.”

Ronan clicked his tongue. He didn’t expect a straightforward explanation, but he didn’t anticipate this level of ambiguity. Laughing lightly, Shullifen added.

“…I heard the sound of the wind.”

“The sound of the wind?”

“Yeah. It was wild but incredibly gentle… the first time since I was eleven. At that moment, I was confident I could beat that woman.”

At eleven, Shullifen had awakened. He had concentrated all his attention on defeating Yuria, who was ready to strike down the protective barrier when the protection of the stars disappeared. Ronan, raising an eyebrow, urged him to continue.

“And then?”

“That’s all. It just felt like I could defeat her when I heard that sound. It really worked.”

“Crazy bastard.”

Ronan furrowed his brow. He didn’t expect a normal explanation, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of vagueness. Grinning, Ronan let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Well, it worked out. Anyway…”

Ronan extended his hand. Regardless of the explanation, it was a good outcome. Shullifen, who had faintly smiled, rose with Ronan’s support. Drinking a potion seemed to have improved his complexion.

“Ronan. I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you break through her defense?”

Despite numerous attempts, he couldn’t breach the protective barrier, just like in his previous life, when he became the Sword Saint. After a moment of contemplation, Ronan raised his head.

“I don’t know. It just happened.”

“…Is that so?”

Shullifen nodded slowly. His expression showed a hint of frustration, but he couldn’t answer what he didn’t know.

‘He must be frustrated.’

In Shullifen’s slightly trembling voice, there was a sense of frustration. Even though he seemed on the verge of collapsing, his azure eyes burned with determination. Ronan spoke.

“Well, anyway, if you just keep at it, you’ll get there.”

Alongside dealing with the curses, another task lay ahead—to unlock the mystery of breaking through the Protection of the Stars. If others could also breach it, that would be fantastic, but if not, Ronan had to become strong enough to take on any challenges alone. Ronan stretched, turning his body.

“…It’s over.”

The battle had ended regardless. It was the most intense and perilous fight since his regression. Only after the tension eased did he notice his surroundings.

It wasn’t a picturesque scene. Stains of blood and broken iron pieces scattered like mold on what used to be a smoothly crafted ruin. The once majestic Magic Stone had turned into a ruin, as if it had experienced war three times over.

“Damn bastards.”

Whack! Ronan suddenly kicked Yuria’s head. The head flew in a graceful arc and landed near the magic stone of Dainhar. Ronan glanced at the stone and spoke.

“Why the hell did this shit happen all of a sudden?”

“…I don’t know.”

Shullifen tilted his head sideways. The enormous Magic Stone, more massive than any farmhouse, still radiated a brilliant light in all directions. The overflowing mana was enough to make one’s head spin.

At that moment, someone’s face flashed past Ronan’s mind. He stopped in his tracks, cursing under his breath.

“Shit.”

“Ronan?”

Raging Storm was nowhere to be seen. He had forgotten everything in the heat of battle. Ronan rushed to the spot where he had fallen. As he glanced down the stairs by chance, his face distorted.

The space below the stairs was still filled with the blood and corpses of the indigenous people. Rising proudly among the corpses was the rectangular prism containing the secret of the ruins. Raging Storm lay atop that rectangular prism.

“Damn it, Storm!”

Ronan shouted. He descended down the stairs, which seemed to be well over 300 steps, in just three leaps. Thud! Thud! Thud! In an instant, Ronan, who reached Storm’s location, shook his shoulders.

“Damn it. Wake up.”

There was no response. The red fingerprints remained on the ten buttons. Given the circumstances, it seemed evident Storm had manipulated them.

“Kuh.. Ugh…”

Fortunately, he was still breathing. Ronan poured all the potions he had brought onto Storm’s body. Keuk…! While external injuries healed quickly, Storm still didn’t regain consciousness. It seemed like he had lost too much blood.

“Don’t die.”

For a moment, Ronan saw the face of Sarante flashing through his mind. The elderly elf guarding the ruin had turned into a statue, because he was unable to heal his wounds.

Ronan couldn’t go through such an ordeal twice. Looking up toward the stairs, he shouted with all his might.

“Cita!!!”

The voice echoed. Exactly three minutes passed. A pitch-black shadow appeared on the stairs. Cita, spotting Ronan, folded her wings and descended.

“Bweeeh…”

“This way, quickly!”

Ronan shouted, supporting the dying Raging Storm. Cita landed on Ronan’s shoulder and immediately cast a healing spell.

Swoosh! A red aura enveloped his body. The flowing blood returned to his body, and his complexion quickly improved. As Ronan straightened out his twisted limbs and pulled out the metal spike that was stuck in him, Strom’s complexion quickly began to improve. Eventually, he twitched his fingers and opened his eyes.

“…Ronan?”

“Damn it, are you out of your mind?”

“The monsters… those weird guys…?”

“They’re all dead for good, thanks to me and him.”

Ronan said, patting Shullifen on the shoulder. Strom’s eyes widened. Ronan explained what had just happened. The purpose and strength with which Teranil and Yuria came here, until their miserable end. Raging Storm burst into laughter after hearing the story.

“Haha… Impressive. You guys are true warriors.”

“Hey, don’t laugh or your wounds will reopen. Did you do this?”

Ronan pointed up the stairs with the tip of his chin. Beams of light shot from the magic stone were crossing the air. Raging Storm nodded heavily.

“Yes. I broke the rules. I wanted to help you because you looked like you were in danger.”

“Rules?”

“Every tribal member knows how to handle this, but no one does. It can only be touched on the Day of the Covenant.”

Always guarded with one’s life, it should never be touched casually, and manipulating it was allowed only on the Day of the Covenant. Storm petted the rectangular prism as he spoke. He had inherited the knowledge of operating the device since his great-great-grandfather’s time, or something like that.

“What is the Day of the Covenant?”

“I do not know either. But it was said that when that day comes, we will naturally understand.”

“Amazing.”

Ronan chuckled bitterly. It was hard to believe that so many people had died because of such vague promises. Raging Storm calmly nodded his head.

“I violated the rules, so when I die, I’ll have to swim in red water forever. But I have no regrets.”

“You’re not guilty, man. The ones who spread such fake promises are the ones who should be thrown into the lava.”

“Thanks for saying that. I think I’m fully recovered now.”

“Recovered my ass. Just lie down quietly. In case there are any survivors, me and this kid will—”

Ronan was about to say something when suddenly, the entire space started shaking violently, as if an earthquake had struck. The artificial voice that was heard a while ago echoed again.

[Three minutes remaining until Security System activation. Upon system activation, all targets without an identification code will be expelled before beginning the operation.]

“Huh?”

Ronan frowned at the nonsense in a language he didn’t understand. Too many unfamiliar words once again.

“Security system, identification code… What the hell does this all mean?”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“It seems like they’ll kick us out or something after roughly 3 minutes… Damn it.”

Though he didn’t know how or what they would expel, a feeling came over him. The vibrations were getting stronger.

The mana emanating from the Magic Stone was becoming increasingly difficult to handle, reaching a concentration that was almost unbearable. It was clear that something was about to happen. Ronan stood up, looked back at Shullifen and Cita, and spoke.

“Hurry, guys. I think we’re screwed.”

Three minutes. It was enough time to grab at least one of the Magic Stones, but it was still somewhat disappointing.

They had to do what they could. Ronan, pulling out his sword, was about to rush forward when Raging Storm suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. I can’t let my savior go like this.”

“What?”

“Either way, I’m certain to die and end up in the red water. I’ll try to buy you some time.”