The existence of secret passages was often brought up jokingly in tavern talk among commoners. It held its ground as a staple of old stories where the hero narrowly escaped death through a hidden tunnel to one day return for revenge.

Some said such passages were pure fiction. After all, why would the lofty and noble lords ever use the same escape routes that even commoners could gossip about? Surely, they would rely on artifacts—powerful relics—to flee instead.

So? Leon asked El-Cid to continue.

—That’s why they’re stupid. They don’t realize that no one clings to life more desperately than nobles. They use their artifacts, sure—but they also dig three, four, sometimes ten tunnels beneath their homes.

He chuckled dryly before adding, —They say the clever rabbit digs three burrows, don’t they? Same logic.

Three hundred years hadn’t changed a thing. Any noble family with history or influence had at least several hidden tunnels beneath their mansion. And for royalty or the imperial bloodline? That went without saying.

To guard against assassination, rebellion, or sudden raids, the palace was laced with emergency escape routes—so many that one could easily get lost without a map. It was through one such passage that a young Lyon Cailum Gladius Pon Clyde had once escaped Calelum.

Leon recalled his earlier conversation with Lyon.

“What I’m about to teach you is a secret inherited only by the direct line of the Clyde Imperial Family.”

The Mad Emperor, Nex, being illegitimate, never knew of it. He only learned of how Lyon had escaped the palace after ascending to the throne himself.

There were thirty-six secret tunnels beneath the Imperial Capital Calelum. Of those, only two connected directly to the White Peak Palace, and one of them could only be opened by the blood of the imperial line. Reinforced with layers of rare metals, it was nearly impossible to destroy by force.

After explaining that, Lyon had added a warning.

“You can open that gate if you bring my blood with you, but you must never enter through the White Peak Palace.”

“Why not?” Leon had asked.

“It might have been safe for a short while after my escape, but now? The Mad Emperor likely knows of its existence. If he’s truly aligned with the Evil Order, he may have found a way to destroy or deceive the gate itself as well.”

The greater danger, however, came afterward. If the White Peak Palace’s security barrier identified Leon’s group as intruders, more than a hundred magic circles would trigger at once, binding them.

For an Aura Master, it wouldn’t disable them entirely, but it would suppress their strength enough to put them at a severe disadvantage. And if they entered a place like the White Palace, where Nekator and the other exolaw bishops likely waited, such a handicap would be fatal.

“The Imperial Guards are also dangerous,” Lyon had said. “Outside the palace, they’re just strong. But within its barrier, those sworn to it gain tremendous power.”

“Then we’ll have to avoid fighting there at all costs.”

“If you can, that would be best.”

It was frustrating not to strike directly at the Mad Emperor, but diving headfirst into a dragon’s maw would have been suicide. So, Leon’s group chose an alternative. There was a tunnel not far from the palace, one that would lead them out beneath the main square’s fountain.

“This passage is incredible,” Karen said, knocking lightly on the wall. “It’s not even silenced by magic, yet none of the vibrations or noise from inside leaks through the stone. Even I’d have a hard time finding it from the outside.”

“That good?” Leon asked.

“Yeah. They must’ve used some kind of special construction method. Maybe the smiths of Jugend would know how to detect something like this, but other than them, I can’t think of anyone who would be able to break through.”

If someone like Karen—an Assassin Master, the pinnacle of infiltration—said that, it was as accurate a judgment as any. Leon himself might never have found the entrance without Lyon’s precise instructions.

Sounds like the battle out there is in full swing.

Even if sound didn’t escape from inside, vibrations from outside were a different story. The ground shook like an earthquake, sending waves of power through the tunnel walls.

The intensity was enough to make even Masters shudder. Leon could feel the scale of the battle above as if he were there himself. If even Irexana, Adela, and Elahan together couldn’t overpower the enemy by now, then the capital’s defenses were stronger than anyone had imagined.

Meanwhile, Cardinal Anna approached Leon.

“Hero? I have a report from Sister Angela, who went ahead. She can’t pinpoint exactly what, but... she says something feels wrong.”

“A feeling... is it her intuition?”

“Exactly.”

The instinct of a warrior who had surpassed human limits was not unlike a sixth sense. Those who had faced countless near deaths, honing their senses and techniques, came to recognize intuition as a true warning that danger was coming. And in someone like Angela, gifted with exceptional perception, that instinct was even sharper.

Leon relayed his new plan immediately.

“We’re changing formation. His Eminence Dominic and I will take the lead. The rear will advance slowly in a tight phalanx.”

“Understood,” Anna accepted the order without hesitation, and the Holy Iron Inquisitors followed suit.

Through the slits in their helmets, their eyes gleamed with reverence and trust for the Hero Leon. Not one of them doubted his command.

In moments, the sixty Inquisitors reformed into eight columns and began marching in perfect rhythm. Sixty pairs of boots moved, producing synchronized sound. It was a sign of flawless discipline, even in larger-scale maneuvers.

“Sister Angela,” Leon called.

Angela nodded silently, expression unchanged. Gifted with the Aura attribute of Vibration, Angela could sense the fall of a single needle from dozens of meters away. There was no one better suited for reconnaissance.

Come to think of it, Adela’s technique had been called Hyper Vibration, hadn’t it?

Both the name and the power felt oddly familiar. Leon must have muttered his thoughts aloud without realizing it, because Anna turned to him and explained.

“Oh? You didn’t know? Sister Angela was personally taken in and taught by Cardinal Adela herself.”

She looked at him as if the fact were obvious. That certainly explained the similarities between the two—their techniques, their aura, even their precision.

Understanding their connection, Leon stepped forward, walking past the spot where Angela had stopped, to see for himself the place she had deemed “suspicious.”

A chill ran down his spine. In that instant, a vibration of such high frequency passed through his body that even an Aura Master’s senses couldn’t register it.

With that, he knew immediately. Something had just been activated.

“All units, battle positions!”

Before his voice could even fade against the tunnel walls, the darkness around them began to writhe.

From a foul mire of impurity, grotesque creatures began crawling forth, one after another, each of them a force that devoured light, a taint seeping in from beyond this dimension.

“A conditional trigger formation. Clever,” Anna murmured and lowered her staff, which looked like that of a shepherd, as she fixed her eyes on the horrors spilling out before them. “A defensive ritual that hides itself until someone draws near—its only purpose is to trap intruders.”

“Can we stop it?” Leon asked.

“It won’t stop. That summoning array doesn’t open a gate to invite monsters—it vomits out the ones stored in the dimensional rift. They’ll keep coming until the source empties itself completely.”

In other words, they had to kill them all. Understanding that, Leon wasted no time. He drew upon his Aura, all four Stigmata flaring with divine radiance. Holy brilliance flooded the passage, and the darkness recoiled like a living thing, retreating into itself.

The morale of the Holy Iron Inquisitors who witnessed such a sacred moment with their own eyes soared.

“For the Goddess!”

“In the name of merciful Light!”

“Brothers and sisters, forward!”

Sixty warriors moved as one, advancing step by step in tight formation, their discipline unbroken, their courage unwavering even before the horrors of the abyss.

With a guttural roar, a towering creature burst forward—a giant with a scorpion’s lower body and four pairs of arms swinging wildly as it charged at Leon.

It seemed to be an A to A+ rank. Stronger than an ogre, more dangerous than a wyvern. That was all. Leon stepped forward and swung his blade once, and the monster split cleanly in two, its halves sliding apart before collapsing with a thud. The cut had been so perfect that its body still carried momentum.

But one corpse meant nothing. Before the first scorpion giant even hit the ground, ten—no, more—emerged behind it. Their forms were grotesque, inconsistent, and sickening to look at.

“Sun Sword, Crimson Lotus, First Form: Prominence.”

Ignoring the swarm, Leon slashed horizontally, and a torrent of fire erupted from his blade. The golden light of Prominence flooded the entire corridor.

Dozens of otherworldly creatures melted like wax, the passage clearing in an instant. However, things weren’t as good as they seemed at first glance.

This isn’t good.

Leon’s gaze shifted past the fallen, toward the endless tide still pouring out. He realized immediately: they couldn’t fight here.

The environment was too unfavorable. The monsters could crawl across the walls and ceiling freely, while his party’s mobility was halved. And the tunnel itself wasn’t sturdy enough to withstand a Master’s full power. Any large-scale attack risked collapse.

Prominence allowed him to distinguish friend from foe, but he couldn’t control the lingering heat that radiated through the air.

El-Cid chimed in, —Would’ve been better if only the four of you had entered.

Maybe. But considering the capital, we’ll need more manpower. There was no point in insisting on a small strike team.

Unlike Leon, whose Stigmata and cloak gave him immense endurance, Karen and the two Cardinals had limits. Depleting their strength before facing the bishops of exolaw would have been a mistake. Slower as it made them, moving with the Holy Iron Inquisitors was the right call.

Seeing the creatures continuing to pour forth, Leon shouted, “We’ve got to break through quickly! We don’t have time to wipe them all out!”

He was about to release another Prominence when Dominic stepped forward from the rear.

“Allow me this time, Hero.”

“Your Eminence?”

The bald, dark-skinned man—his features like those of a desert nomad—brought his hands together calmly. With a hum, a pale white Aura surrounded him. Then, he thrust out his palm, and from his open hand surged a wall of Aura—an Aura Blade, massive and solid.

The wall of energy crushed everything in its path, sweeping through the tunnel. It wasn’t particularly fast, but it was wide enough to fill the entire passage, leaving no room for the monsters to dodge.

“You’re in quite the mood today, Dominic,” Anna said, smirking as she smashed a creature’s skull with her staff.

“Surprised, Hero?” she added. “That’s why Dominic earned his title—‘The Fortress.’”

“The Fortress...” Leon murmured.

“Dominic’s Aura Blade manifests as a wall centered on himself. It’s an Aura barrier that repels all external phenomena. Its durability is such that even a Sword Demon’s blade couldn’t cut through it easily,” Anna explained.

It wasn’t the sort of power that shone in duels or offensive combat. After all, Dominic was creating and pushing walls—nothing more, nothing less. In this situation, however, there was no one more suited to the task than Dominic.

As his power took full effect, the line that had been subtly pushed back began advancing once more.

If this keeps up, we’ll break through soon... but why...?

Despite their progress, Leon felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine. It was intuition—the same way Angela’s sense had detected the Evil Order’s trap.

His instincts were screaming now, warning him that if they lingered here, something irreversible would happen. His heightened focus accelerated his thoughts. Time seemed to stretch, thoughts multiplying dozens of times over until, at last, he grasped the source of his unease.

“Everyone! We’re leaving this tunnel!”

His shout startled the Cardinals.

“Leave it? To where, exactly?”

“No... don’t tell me...?”

Confirming their fear, Leon unfolded the Icarus Wing. The monsters brushed by its golden flames, shrieking as their bodies charred and fell limp. Leon didn’t even blink at their screams, his eyes fixed on the Holy Sword in his hand.

Was this the right choice? It had to be. The heavens would not answer one who doubted himself.

“Grand Chariot...”

He couldn’t slash vertically, nor could he slash horizontally. A simple thrust wouldn’t do, either.

Leon had to cut in a perfect circle. And for that, he had his fourth secret technique, Megrez. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

“Heavenly Authority, Fourth Form: Megrez.”

A circular ring of light burst from the Holy Sword, slashing upward into the ceiling. There was no explosion, but with a battle cry, Leon carved a glowing ring more than ten meters wide into the stone above, then fired the Icarus Wing at full power and leaped.

No one could have foreseen what came next. The very acceleration had been part of his calculation. Even his afterimage lagged behind as Leon rocketed upward and kicked the circular section he’d cut out of the ground.

With a loud explosion, the massive slab—several tons, perhaps even dozens—shot upward, the entire tunnel trembling as the force launched it like a cannonball. Leon’s kick, empowered by the Icarus Wing, had blasted the severed rock clean off the earth, and a gaping hole now yawned in the secret passage.

“Now! Follow the Hero!”

Following Leon, the two Cardinals and the Holy Iron Inquisitors leaped up in perfect unison, escaping from underground within seconds.

Then, something caught their eyes.

“W-what is that...?!”

One of the Inquisitors, glancing down at the tunnel they had just escaped, let out a gasp. The others followed his gaze and froze.

Through the hole Leon had torn open, something was moving. Dark scales glistened like midnight, a monstrous form that seemed to melt into shadow. It was a being they had faced once before.

“Apophis,” Leon muttered.

It was the fragment of the monster once controlled by Nephren-Ka, the Black Pharaoh. This time, however, it was different.

This was no formless shadow that could be blocked by the Sun Shield. Even diminished, its presence carried a divine pressure.

Cold sweat trickled down Leon’s face as realization struck him. This was the true body of Apophis.

It could not rise to the surface while the sun was out, but beneath the earth, untouched by light, it was free to wield its full power.