A sharp rush of movement cut through the air, one after another, layered and overlapping, until the sound itself became a pattern

swift, controlled, coordinated and within seconds, the space that had only moments ago been a quiet marketplace shifted entirely. Figures began appearing from all sides, dropping down from rooftops, stepping out from adjoining streets, advancing from behind stalls and structures with practiced precision, their formation tightening as they converged on a single point.

Razeal and his group.

There were dozens of them.

Easily forty... or perhaps more.

They moved without hesitation, each taking position with a clarity that spoke of training and repetition, forming a perimeter that closed in almost seamlessly, their spacing deliberate, their weapons ready, their attention locked. Some wore full black armor, heavier, more imposing, their presence carrying a sense of direct combat readiness. Others bore armor marked with faint crimson tones, lighter but still reinforced, suggesting mobility and enforcement roles. And then there were those in deep blue robes, their garments flowing behind them, their stance different.

All different from others perhaps each from different house or authority under.

But even so.. There was one thing in common.

All of them

Radiated power.

Not overwhelming individually, but consistent.

Disciplined.

Every single one of them carried an aura that placed them firmly within trained ranks C-rank, B-rank, without exception and more importantly, they seems to knew how to use it. Their presence didn’t spill chaotically.. it was contained, directed, sharpened through likely high experience.

As how.. Within seconds, the formation was complete.

Razeal and his team

Were surrounded.

The first and second guards stepped back slightly as reinforcements filled in around them, their earlier tension now supported by structure, by numbers, by command, and it showed in the way their posture stabilized, their confidence returning, even if only partially.

And then

Two figures stepped forward.

Not rushed.

But with authority.

The crowd of guards shifted subtly to make space for them, their formation adjusting instinctively as they advanced to the front.

One carried a presence that pressed outward in a controlled wave of peak A-rank worrior strong, refined, someone who had long since mastered their level.

The other

Was heavier.

Denser.

Early S-rank, unmistakable, the kind of presence that did not need to announce itself loudly to be felt.

Lieutenant. And Captain maybe..?

Exactly as the second guard had warned.

They moved to the front, stopping just ahead of the formation, their eyes immediately settling on Razeal and his group, studying them with sharp, assessing gazes while at the same time briefly exchanging words with the two guards who had encountered them first. The conversation was quick, efficient.. information relayed in short bursts, the captain listening without interrupting, her attention divided between the report and the situation unfolding in front of her.

Around them, other guards had already begun clearing the area. Civilians were being ushered away, some quickly, some reluctantly, but none resisting, because the atmosphere had already made it clear.. this was no longer a place for bystanders. The marketplace that had been alive just moments ago was now rapidly emptying, leaving behind only tension and the quiet echo of retreating footsteps.

"Very fast response," Razeal commented under his breath, his eyes moving across the formation, taking in the structure, the coordination, the speed at which control had been established. There was no concern in his tone only observation, and beneath it, a faint note of approval. "Impressive."

Maria glanced at him briefly, her expression tightening further. This was exactly what she had warned about, and now they were standing in the middle of it with no cover, no preparation, completely exposed.

The captain stepped forward slightly.

Her presence was commanding, her posture straight, her expression sharp and composed. Long blonde hair fell behind her, partially stirred by the movement of air around them, and her black eyes remained fixed on Razeal with a level of focus that made it clear she was not someone who overlooked details.

"Yes," she said, her voice calm but firm, carrying authority without needing to rise. "Very fast response." She paused just long enough to ensure attention. "And.. We’ve already been briefed."

Her gaze shifted briefly toward the guards who had reported, then returned to Razeal.

"First suspicious gathering of unknown individuals," she began, her tone methodical. "Second.. refusal to state identity and purpose. Third.. direct assault on a city watch guard."

Each point landed clearly.

"Under these circumstances," she continued, her voice sharpening just slightly, "You all will have to come with us." Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "And you will disarm yourselves. All weapons. Any storage items.. space rings, pouches everything."

There was no room for negotiation in her tone.

"And.. This is not a request."

Behind her, the lieutenant stood with one hand resting lightly on his sword handle, his expression calm but alert, his presence reinforcing her authority without needing to speak. Confidence radiated from both of them not arrogance, but certainty born from experience and control.

Razeal’s team, almost instinctively, turned their heads toward him.

One by one.. Silently

Things had escalated far beyond what anyone had expected this quickly, and now they were surrounded by dozens of trained fighters, commanded by individuals who were clearly far stronger than the rest.

But anyways..

Razeal smiled.

"Well," he said lightly, almost apologetically, "I’m sorry to say... but we can’t do that."

"You see.. We have something much more important to do," he added, his tone still calm, almost conversational. Then, with a faint tilt of his head, he glanced briefly around at the gathered forces. "And... I suppose I should apologize for calling all of you out like this. Causing a scene like this.. And believe me this wasn’t exactly the intention i had."

"But," he added, his smile widening just slightly, "This was the fastest and most efficient method I could think of."

Maria’s eyes flickered toward him sharply at that. Realization beginning to form.

"So.. The thing is," he said, his voice steady, direct now, "I needed to meet a member of the Iron Council."

Silence followed.

"And unfortunately," he continued, "I don’t know anyone in this kingdom who could arrange that for me." His shoulders lifted slightly in a small shrug. "So I had to improvise." He continued as eyes moved briefly across the surrounding guards, then returned to the captain.

"And this," he finished, "Seemed like the most reliable way."

"Anyway... thank you all for the hospitality," Razeal said, his tone light, almost courteous in a way that sharply contrasted the situation he himself had created, and as he spoke he took a slow step forward, closing a fraction of the distance between himself and the captain, his gaze steady and locked onto her eyes with a composure that didn’t waver even under the scrutiny of dozens of armed guards. "But if you can... take me to someone higher up, or arrange a meeting with a member of the Iron Council... I’d really appreciate that." His smile remained, calm and almost disarming, as if he were making a reasonable request in a civil setting rather than standing surrounded in the middle of a military response.

Behind him, Maria raised her hand to her forehead, pressing her fingers lightly against it as she exhaled in quiet disbelief, her eyes closing for just a brief second. So that’s what he was doing, she realized, the pieces finally aligning in her mind, and instead of feeling relieved, she only felt a deeper wave of frustration settle in.

"Why is he like this..." she muttered internally almost disappointingly.. her thoughts edged with genuine exasperation, because while the logic behind his actions now made sense, the method was reckless to a degree she could hardly justify. He had deliberately provoked the city guard, forced escalation, drawn in higher command.. all just to open a path upward. It was effective in theory, but in practice... it was so stupid...

The others behind him weren’t much different in reaction.

Yograj stared at Razeal’s back, his expression somewhere between disbelief and reluctant acceptance, as if he had already given up trying to predict what this boy would do next. Sofia’s brows were slightly drawn, her eyes shifting between the guards and Razeal, clearly aware of how fragile this moment was, while Levy and Aurora just remained silent.

Nancy, on the other hand, simply looked confused, her gaze flickering from one person to another, still trying to process how a situation could escalate this quickly over something that sounded so absurdly simple when spoken aloud.

"Iron Council member?" The captain named Aveline repeated, her voice lower now, edged with disbelief rather than authority, her brows narrowing as she studied him more closely. As his words settled, the reasoning behind everything became clearer to her as well, and for a moment, her gaze flickered slightly, connecting the sequence of actions. The provocation. The refusal. The controlled compliance or whatever he had engineered this for.

And that realization did not calm her. It actually irritated her. Because it meant he had done all of this deliberately.

Her eyes hardened.

So he orchestrated this entire situation just to force access upward? That alone was enough to mark him as troublesome. But more than that, she couldn’t feel anything from him.. no aura, no mana signature, nothing that indicated strength or threat, and that only made it worse. Either he was hiding it perfectly... or he was arrogant beyond reason. Maybe just because of his pretty face?

The conclusion she leaned toward was the second.

"So this is your plan?" she thought, her expression remaining composed outwardly, though her internal judgment was far less forgiving. "To provoke the city guard, create a disturbance, and demand access to the Iron Council as if that is something granted on request?"

Her grip on her sword tightened slightly. It wasn’t just inappropriate.

It was offensive. To the system.

To authority.

To her.

He was, in her eyes, nothing more than an unknown outsider who had walked into her jurisdiction, created a disturbance, assaulted one of her guards, and was now calmly asking for a meeting with the highest governing body of the kingdom as if it were a matter of convenience.

Unacceptable.

Completely unacceptable.

And judging by the subtle shifts in stance among the guards behind her the tightening grips, the sharpened gazes.. it wasn’t just her who felt that way. Razeal had managed, in a matter of minutes, to offend nearly every armed individual present.

"Look," Aveline said finally, her voice dropping into something colder, more direct, as she took a slow step forward, the ground beneath her boots echoing faintly in the now-cleared space. "We can do this the easy way... or the hard way." As she spoke, her hand moved to her sword, drawing it out in one smooth, practiced motion, the blade sliding free with a clean metallic sound, the golden hilt catching the light as she lowered it casually to her side. Her posture remained relaxed, but there was nothing casual about the intent behind it. "And believe me," she added, her eyes locking onto his with quiet intensity, "You don’t want the hard way."

The moment she moved

The formation behind her shifted.

Guards stepped forward in near-perfect synchronization, their positions tightening, weapons raising slightly, not yet attacking but fully prepared. The air thickened with intent, the kind that precedes violence but has not yet crossed into it.

And at same time she did..

Razeal stepped forward also.

Closing the gap again, his expression unchanged, his eyes meeting hers without hesitation, without flinch, as if none of the pressure surrounding him existed at all. And then, slowly, deliberately opened his arms slightly to his sides.. not in surrender, not in provocation, but in a gesture that felt almost conversational.

"And I would say the same," he replied, his voice calm, steady, carrying that same unsettling composure as his gaze held hers. "Easy way... or the hard way."

And just as he said that a powerful Great Saintly aura began to radiate from his body.

The aura was so remarkably stable and controlled. That even the stone floor beneath him did not crack, nor were the people around him forced back or sent flying. Under normal circumstances, such a vast difference in strength would have been overwhelming enough to force anyone beneath a saint to their knees, suffocating under the pressure, unable to breathe or even lift their heads. Yet here, within this space, it remained contained, its influence extending only a limited distance.

The dense, oppressive aura enveloped his form, restrained with precise control. It did not spread far.. only enough to fill the immediate area. It was deliberately measured.

Most likely, it served a single purpose to make it clear to the guards that resistance was futile, and that it would be far wiser to let everything proceed smoothly... without bloodshed, as it should be.

And suddenly just as that controlled, suffocating aura spread outward from Razeal’s body, wrapping the immediate space in a pressure that felt both deliberate and absolute, Aveline froze. It was not hesitation born from uncertainty, but recognition sharp, immediate, undeniable and within a single heartbeat her entire stance shifted. Her hand rose abruptly into the air, cutting through the tension with a command that carried far more urgency than anything she had said before. "Stop!" Her voice came out fast, hard, leaving no room for delay, and it echoed across the formation as a direct order, not a suggestion.

The guards who had already begun to tighten their circle halted instantly, some even before fully understanding why, their instincts reacting to both the command and the oppressive presence that had settled over them. Those who had not yet moved forward now remained rooted in place, their weapons still raised but no longer advancing, their eyes flickering between their captain and the source of that overwhelming pressure.

A bead of sweat formed at Aveline’s temple as her eyes did not leave Razeal’s face.

She inhaled slowly, steadying herself, forcing her breathing under control as her mind processed what her senses were screaming at her. There was no doubt. No possibility of error of what she was feeling.. what all of them were feeling.. was unmistakable.

A Great Saint.

The realization settled heavily.

The aura was refined, controlled to an almost unnatural degree, not spilling out wildly as it would from someone inexperienced, but placed precisely, confined to a limited radius, exerting pressure without collateral damage. The stone beneath their feet remained intact. The structures around them stood untouched. No one was thrown back, no one crushed outright. And yet.. every single person within that range felt it.

It was the kind of presence that didn’t need to prove itself through destruction, because its restraint alone was proof of its magnitude.

Her gaze sharpened further.

It was fresh.

That was the strange part.

There was a certain edge to it, a subtle immaturity within the depth of it, as if the power had been attained not long ago. Not unsteady.. but fresh new. Recently ascended. And yet, even in that state, it carried the full authority of a Great Saint.

Her thoughts raced.

This level of power... it was not something that simply existed in the background. This was the same level of a great house lord. The kind of individual who could stand at the top of a kingdom, who commanded respect not by title alone but by sheer strength. A being of that rank could alter the balance of regions, influence political structures, shift power dynamics simply by existing.

And yet

One now stood there.

Looking no older than seventeen? Eighteen at most.

Her mind rejected it. It didn’t align with anything she knew.

Even the most talented individuals in the empire.. That one with Royal bloodlines those trained from birth under the most elite conditions had not reached this level at such an age. Even the imperial princess herself, rumored to be the pinnacle of talent in this era, was not a Great Saint.. That was common knowledge.

So how

Her thoughts halted.

Honestly.. It didn’t matter. Not right now.

Whether he was hiding his true appearance, whether he was something else entirely, whether this was deception or reality.. none of that mattered in this moment.

What mattered was simple.

A Great Saint stood in front of her. And she had just drawn her sword on him.

"Step back," Aveline ordered immediately, her voice lower now but far more intense, cutting through the formation with authority sharpened by urgency. Her hand moved again, signaling clearly to every guard present. "All of you. Step back."

There was no hesitation this time.

The guards obeyed instantly.

Weapons lowered.. not fully, but enough to show compliance rather than aggression. Their stances shifted from offensive to defensive, then to cautious distance, each one putting space between themselves and Razeal, their earlier confidence replaced by a tension that bordered on fear.

Because they had felt it too.

Even those at the edge of the aura. Even those who could barely sense it.

They understood.

This was not an opponent they could take even in there dreams.

Aveline took a step forward.

Then, without delay, she bowed.

"My deepest apologies... for not recognizing you, my lord." Her voice was controlled, but the strain beneath it was real, her composure held together by discipline rather than ease. "There was no intention to offend you. Please forgive us... for the actions taken until now."

Behind her, the guards followed.

Almost in unison.

A ripple of motion passed through the formation as they lowered themselves slightly, heads dipping, not out of ritual alone, but out of instinct, out of awareness of the gap that had just been revealed between them and the person they had nearly engaged.

Silence followed.

A bery Heavy silence.

Razeal kinda surprised.. looked at them.

But then he just smiled.

"No offense taken," he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive of the entire situation as if it had never been anything serious to begin with.

"Don’t worry about it." His gaze moved briefly across the formation, taking in the lowered stances, the shifted attitudes, the fear that now lingered where authority had stood moments ago. "And there’s no need to bow."

As he spoke, the aura around him receded.

Like a tide pulling back.

The pressure lifted from the air, the invisible weight dissolving as if it had never been there, leaving behind only the memory of it and the lingering awareness of what had just been revealed. Within seconds, he stood there again as he had before.. no visible aura, no detectable mana, nothing to indicate the overwhelming presence that had just dominated the space.

Just..

A normal figure. If one ignored everything that had just happened.

"I came here with no ill intent," he continued, his voice steady, returning to the same calm tone as before. "I just want to meet a member of the Iron Council. If you can arrange that... I’d appreciate it... Again.."

Behind him..

Silence.

Not from the guards.

From his own team also.. As they just stared at him. Each for their own reason.. As even they wernt aware that he had broken through.. As this news now came quiete surprising to them now.

And Nancy

She was completely frozen.

Her eyes wide as her mind struggling to process what she had just seen, what she had just felt, what she had just understood.

"Great... Saint...?" the words echoed in her head, not even fully forming into speech as her thoughts spiraled.

She had known he was strong.

But this?

This was a level she couldn’t even properly comprehend.

A Great Saint?

That wasn’t just strong.

That was...

Monstrous.

Her heart pounded.

And then another realization hit her.

His age... He is only 16? right??

"Same age as... my brother...?" her thoughts stumbled over themselves, disbelief layering over disbelief. "And he’s... this?"

She couldn’t believe it.

"Yes, my lord..." Aveline slowly raised her head, the motion controlled, deliberate, her composure firmly held despite the shift that had just taken place, and as her eyes met Razeal’s again there was no trace of the earlier confrontation left in them, only respect layered with caution, the kind that did not waver even under pressure.

"Thank you... for your forgiveness." Her voice remained steady, trained, betraying none of the internal recalculations she had already made, because unlike many who might have faltered or lost control upon realizing the magnitude of the presence before them, she held her posture intact, her expression disciplined, her bearing still that of a captain who understood both authority and hierarchy.

"No need for that," Razeal said, his tone casual, almost dismissive of the formality, as he lifted a hand slightly in a loose gesture. "I’m still young." There was a faint hint of discomfort in his expression, subtle but present, as he glanced at Aveline for a brief moment, clearly noting the difference in age between them. She stood as someone in her early thirties, seasoned, experienced, and yet here she was addressing him with a level of deference that felt... misplaced to him, at least on the surface.

And she actually didn’t believe he was this young as he is showing himself to be.. but again if he says so.

Aveline did not argue.

"Yes, sir. I understand," she replied, inclining her head slightly again, adjusting her address without hesitation, her tone no less respectful than before, only refined to match his preference. Her gaze remained steady, attentive, reassessing him not as an unknown intruder now, but as a figure whose presence carried weight far beyond her initial judgment.

The atmosphere, however, had shifted entirely.

What had been tense before was now... heavier.

More controlled and serious.

Every movement measured.

Every word deliberate.

Even the air between them felt different, as if the earlier chaos had been replaced by something far more structured, far more dangerous in its quietness.

Razeal exhaled faintly, almost inaudibly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as he sensed the change, though it did little to ease the underlying tension. He tilted his head slightly, glancing around at the formation, at the guards who now stood in disciplined stillness, at his own team behind him, who remained silent, watching.

There was nothing he could do about it.

This was inevitable.

Power revealed.. Changes things.

"Alright," he said, shaking his head lightly as if brushing off the weight of the situation. "Can we do this quickly?" His tone shifted back to practicality, his eyes returning to Aveline. "I have information regarding the ongoing war as well. So it would be best.. for both sides. if we speak to the Iron Council as soon as possible."

And that caught her attention immediately. As her gaze sharpened, not aggressively, but with focus.

"Yes... my apologies, sir," Aveline responded without delay, her posture adjusting slightly as she processed his words. "However, not all members of the Iron Council are currently present in the capital. Some have been deployed to the borders... overseeing the ongoing conflict." She paused briefly, choosing her words carefully, ensuring clarity. "But arrangements can be made. I can ensure that a meeting is organized... as quickly as possible."

Her mind was already moving ahead.

Afterall his presence alone was significant.

A Great Saint requesting an audience was not something to be delayed or ignored.

Not to say there was the mention of information.. About the war.

Her expression did not change outwardly, but internally, that detail settled heavily.

Because the truth was..

They needed it.

The kingdom was under extreme pressure.

Attacks had been occurring.

But the source.. Was unknown weirdly enough.

No clear enemy. No confirmed origin. Just conflict... without clarity.

And now, someone of this level was claiming to have information.

It wasn’t something she could dismiss. Nor something she would risk mishandling.

"We can escort you to the nearest military command camp," she added, her tone respectful but slightly more direct now, her eyes meeting his again. "From there, communication with the council can be established immediately."

"if you wish, sir ofcourse." she added, maintaining her respectful tone. Despite her composure, a subtle glint passed through her eyes an unspoken eagerness. She did, in fact, want to accompany him.

Razeal, however, saw no issue with the proposal. He simply gave a slight nod.

"That will do."

Aveline gave a small, almost imperceptible nod in return.

"Thank you, sir," she said, her voice steady, though there was a quiet sense of resolution beneath it now. "We will ensure the escort is arranged immediately. You will be transported safely and without delay."

She turned her head sharply. As her attention shifting to the lieutenant behind her.

"Prepare the best carriages available," she ordered, her tone firm, leaving no room for delay or error. "Two will be sufficient." Her eyes held his for a fraction longer than necessary, a silent instruction layered beneath the words.. priority, discretion, urgency.

The lieutenant understood instantly.

There was no verbal reply.

Just a slight nod.

And then without another word

He was gone.

A blur of motion as he disappeared from his position, moving with speed that spoke of both ability and familiarity with such orders, leaving behind only the faint disturbance of air where he had stood.

Aveline turned back to Razeal.

"Just a few minutes, sir," she said, her voice returning to its composed tone as she inclined her head slightly once more.

"It’s fine," Razeal nodded, his tone even, carrying no impatience whatsoever as he watched Aveline issue her orders and the formation subtly reorganize itself around them. Outwardly, he appeared unconcerned, almost indifferent to the delay, but his mind was far from idle.

He had already pieced together what she had maybe done the moment she gave that instruction to the lieutenant. Sending someone of that level for something as simple as arranging transport made no operational sense unless there was a secondary purpose, and in this case it was obvious.. advance communication maybe?

The lieutenant wasn’t just arranging carriages he was carrying information ahead, informing the military camp of their arrival, preparing them, allowing them to mobilize whatever resources they deemed necessary. It was a clean move, efficient and cautious.

As by the time Razeal and his group reached the camp, they would not be walking into an unprepared environment. There would be eyes waiting, decisions already made, contingencies in place. He could almost picture it.. command structures adjusting, powerhouses gathering, defenses aligning just in case this "guest" turned out to be something less cooperative.

Not bad.

He acknowledged it silently.

Not exceptional, but solid.

Aveline was doing exactly what a competent officer should do when faced with an unknown Great Saint-level entity buy time, secure information, control movement, prepare response.

Razeal’s lips curved slightly at that thought.

He didn’t mind it. If anything, it made things smoother for him.

And besides

He wasn’t here to fight.. At least not yet.

A few minutes passed in controlled stillness, the guards maintaining formation, the atmosphere held in that strange equilibrium between caution and deference, until the sound of approaching movement broke through the quiet. From the far end of the cleared street, a group of guards emerged, leading two carriages forward with disciplined precision.

They were not ordinary transports. Both were deep black, polished to a muted sheen, reinforced with layered plating that suggested durability beyond mere appearance. Subtle engravings ran along the edges, not decorative but functional, likely carrying enchantments or structural enhancements. Each carriage was drawn by two powerful black horses, their builds strong, their movement steady, their presence carrying the unmistakable aura of trained war-beasts C-rank at the very least, their energy controlled but present.

The convoy came to a halt smoothly.

No wasted motion.

No unnecessary noise.

Razeal’s gaze flickered briefly across the setup, noting the details instinctively.

No lieutenant.

As expected.. Most likely already ahead. To Delivering the message.

Setting the stage or whatever.

Razeal didn’t comment on it.

"Please, sir," Aveline stepped forward, her posture respectful as she extended her hand slightly, indicating the carriage, her tone formal yet composed. "This way." There was a faint shift in her expression, something closer to apology than authority now.

"I apologize. These carriages are not worthy of escorting someone of your stature. But.. Arranging a royal carriage would have taken more time, and since you emphasized urgency..." she allowed the sentence to trail naturally, offering the explanation without overextending it. "These were the best available immediately."

Razeal waved it off with ease.

"It’s fine."

And that was that. One by one, they began boarding.

Yograj, Aurora, and Levy moved toward the second carriage, stepping in without hesitation, their movements relaxed but aware, their eyes still occasionally flickering toward Razeal as if confirming the direction of things even now. There was no discussion needed. At this point, they had already accepted that whatever path he chose, they were following it.

Razeal stepped into the first carriage.

Sofia followed, her gaze briefly sweeping the interior before settling into her seat. Maria entered next, her movements composed but her mind clearly still active, processing, calculating, adjusting to the rapidly unfolding chain of events. Nancy hesitated for just a fraction of a second before stepping in as well, her eyes still lingering on Razeal, as if trying to reconcile the person she saw with the reality she had just witnessed.

Aveline entered last.

Only after a brief pause and silent silent permission as Razeal gave a slight nod.

And that was enough as she stepped inside also.

The door closed.

And without another moment wasted

The convoy moved.

The horses surged forward with controlled strength, their hooves striking the stone with rhythmic precision as the carriages rolled into motion, escorted immediately by mounted guards who formed a moving perimeter around them. The formation was tight, disciplined, their presence unmistakable as they guided the convoy through the city streets.

The marketplace gave way to broader roads.

The crowd, already thinned, parted further at the sight of the armed escort, people stepping aside instinctively, whispers spreading quietly as the procession passed. No one interfered. No one approached. The presence alone was enough to deter curiosity from turning into action.

Inside the carriage

Silence settled.

Razeal leaned back slightly into his seat. And closed his eyes as directly sending his consciousness into system space.

Seems like it is finally the time to get some real physical help.. Like actual physical labour.

——