Maxwell remained standing atop the ruined cliff while the cold wind passed around him endlessly.

His chest rose and fell slowly.

The violent fury inside him gradually calmed little by little.

Not completely.

Never completely.

But enough for his thoughts to become clearer again.

The dragon aura surrounding his body slowly weakened while the golden scales on his skin disappeared one after another.

Then—

He exhaled deeply.

His eyes no longer looked as chaotic as before.

Because once the rage settled slightly—

His mind naturally began recalling everything again carefully.

Every detail.

Every conversation.

Every clue.

Especially the things his master repeatedly analyzed before dying.

Maxwell slowly looked toward the distant horizon.

"The truth..."

He muttered quietly.

"We were never fully certain."

That was the reality.

Neither he nor his master ever truly confirmed the relationship between that unknown terrifying human and the young master of the Valmont Family.

Everything they knew—

Was based on assumptions.

Possibilities.

Observations.

And suspicions.

Nothing more.

Maxwell slowly narrowed his eyes.

Because even now—

Several things still did not fully connect together.

The terrifying human they suspected—

The so called Young Warchief.

Clay Valmont.

That person’s existence alone already felt strange.

Too strange.

The Bersuka warriors obeyed him absolutely.

Even Borzoi, someone terrifying enough to nearly kill Maxwell himself, spoke about him with reverence bordering on fanatic devotion.

That alone already felt abnormal.

But the most suspicious thing—

Was the maid.

That shadow assassin.

Maid Cy.

Maxwell’s expression darkened slightly.

Because he remembered it clearly.

During the battle—

When she activated that strange berserk state—

Her skin reddened.

Just like Borzoi.

Just like the Bersuka Tribe.

And that immediately connected everything together in Maxwell’s mind.

The anti magic.

The Berserk transformation.

The strange loyalty.

The evolved beasts.

The terrifying power.

Everything seemed connected toward one source.

Clay Valmont.

Meanwhile—

Maxwell slowly clenched his fists again.

Because the more he thought about it—

The more suspicious everything became.

Still—

Despite all of it—

A part of him remained uncertain.

Because there were still explanations that could potentially clear Clay Valmont completely.

Maxwell slowly sat back down atop the ruined cliff while thinking carefully.

"What if..."

"What if he really isn’t the culprit?"

The thought annoyed him immediately.

Yet he still forced himself to analyze it properly.

Because his master always taught him something important.

Never allow emotions to blind judgment completely.

Maxwell closed his eyes briefly.

Then began recalling everything calmly.

First—

Clay Valmont personally helped defend the Border Town.

That part seemed genuine.

The walls were rebuilt.

The guards were strengthened.

The beasts attacking nearby settlements were being exterminated continuously.

If Clay truly wanted the continent destroyed—

Why protect the towns at all?

Why strengthen defenses?

Why organize people against the beasts? 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

That contradiction bothered Maxwell slightly.

Then there was another issue.

The Bersuka warriors themselves admitted they released things that affected the beasts.

Powders.

Totems.

Strange rituals.

Even Borzoi indirectly confirmed their involvement.

Which meant—

The tribe itself clearly played a role in the evolution disaster.

But Clay Valmont became their leader only recently.

So perhaps—

The chaos already existed before he took control.

Maxwell slowly frowned.

Then another thought surfaced.

What if Clay was simply controlling the situation afterward?

Not creating it.

Just taking advantage of it.

That possibility also existed.

And another thing—

During Borzoi’s ramblings throughout the battle—

The Bersuka warrior constantly praised Clay almost fanatically.

But strangely—

Most of the things he praised involved strength.

Power.

Dominance.

Protection.

Nothing directly confirmed Clay personally ordered the beast evolution itself.

Meanwhile—

The maid also behaved strangely.

She protected Clay fiercely.

Yet whenever his name appeared—

She reacted emotionally.

Not fear.

Not worship alone.

Something else.

Something more personal.

Maxwell slowly opened his eyes again.

His thoughts became heavier.

Because the more he analyzed everything—

The more complicated the situation became.

Maybe Clay Valmont truly was innocent.

Maybe he simply became involved accidentally.

Maybe the Bersuka Tribe manipulated him somehow.

Or perhaps—

He really was just a powerful noble dragged into chaos beyond his control.

That possibility existed too.

And honestly—

Maxwell could even imagine it.

A strong young master gaining control over dangerous warriors while trying to stabilize the continent afterward.

It was possible.

Reasonable even.

For several moments—

Maxwell remained silent.

The wind continued moving around him quietly.

Then—

Slowly—

His expression hardened again.

Because in the end—

None of it mattered anymore.

Whether Clay Valmont was guilty or innocent—

His master still died.

And that death connected directly toward the people surrounding Clay.

Toward the maid.

Toward Borzoi.

Toward the terrifying powers originating from that side.

Maxwell’s eyes gradually became colder again.

"If I can’t kill him with strength..."

His voice became quieter.

More dangerous.

"Then I’ll destroy everything around him instead."

The air around him became heavier once more.

Because hatred naturally found direction.

And once hatred found direction—

It rarely stopped.

Maxwell slowly stood up again.

His expression no longer looked broken now.

Only cold.

Focused.

Dangerous.

"The Valmont Family..."

He muttered.

"I’ll make them enemies of everyone."

He slowly looked toward the distant skies.

The higher Mana Dimension.

The kingdoms.

The noble clans.

The churches.

The powerful organizations hidden throughout the continent.

If strength alone failed—

Then he would use influence.

Rumors.

Fear.

Manipulation.

Suspicion.

After all—

The situation already looked suspicious enough.

A noble family connected to dangerous tribes.

Beasts evolving violently.

Unknown powers.

Anti magic.

Shadow assassins.

All he needed—

Was to push the right stories into the right ears.

And soon—

The entire continent would naturally fear the Valmont Family.

Maxwell’s eyes remained fierce.

Cold fury continued burning inside them.

Yet—

In that moment—

He completely forgot something important.

Something his master warned him about countless times before.

The reason everything escalated this far—

Was not solely because of others.

It was also because of his own choices.

His own aggression.

His own refusal to retreat.

His own obsession with awakening the White Heaven Dragon Blood no matter the cost.

Even during the battle—

His master repeatedly warned him.

Told him to stop.

Told him the risks.

Yet Maxwell continued anyway.

Because his pride refused to back down.

Because his rage refused to calm.

Because he wanted victory desperately.

And because of that—

His master died.

But now—

That truth no longer mattered inside Maxwell’s heart.

Because grief naturally searched for someone else to blame.

And Clay Valmont—

Had become the perfect target.

...

Back at the Border Town mansion—

The atmosphere could not have been more different.

Warm sunlight passed through the quiet garden while soft winds moved gently across the flowering plants surrounding the stone pathways. The sounds of distant workers rebuilding parts of the town echoed faintly from beyond the mansion walls, but inside the garden itself—

Everything felt peaceful.

Calm.

Almost unreal compared to the chaos happening elsewhere across the continent.

Clay sat lazily beneath a large tree while leaning comfortably against a cushioned chair placed near a small stone table.

His posture completely lacked the dignity expected from a noble young master.

One leg rested carelessly over the other while his upper body relaxed deeply against the chair as though he no longer possessed even the smallest amount of motivation left in life.

And honestly—

That was exactly how he wanted things.

No fighting.

No danger.

No endless schemes.

Just peace.

Beside him—

Cerys stood quietly in her maid outfit while holding a small tray carefully.

Her movements remained graceful as always.

Elegant.

Controlled.

She picked up a small sliced fruit from the tray before bringing it near Clay calmly.

"Young Master."

Clay lazily opened his mouth without even looking.

Cerys gently fed him the fruit.

He slowly chewed afterward while staring upward toward the sky through the tree branches.

Then—

He sighed deeply.

"This is the life..."

Cerys remained silent beside him.

Meanwhile Clay stretched slightly before relaxing again.

The warm sunlight felt comfortable.

The breeze felt comfortable.

Even the food tasted better when he did absolutely nothing all day.

After everything that happened recently—

Clay increasingly appreciated moments like this.

Because for the first time since arriving in this strange situation—

Things finally seemed stable.

The terrifying future from the dream no longer felt close.

His father remained safe.

The Valmont Family remained safe.

The border town survived.

Even the Bersuka Tribe now worked under him instead of becoming enemies.

Everything changed.

Exactly the way he wanted.

Meanwhile—

Cerys poured tea calmly into a cup before bringing it toward him carefully.

Clay accepted it lazily before taking a slow sip.

Warm.

Refreshing.

Perfect.

He closed his eyes slightly afterward.

Then muttered quietly.

"Maid Cy."

"Yes, Young Master?"

"You’re getting better at this."

Cerys blinked once.

"At serving tea?"

"At pampering me."

The corner of her lips almost moved slightly upward.

Almost.

"I am merely doing my duty."

Clay snorted softly.

"No."

"You’re definitely getting better."

He pointed lazily toward the tray.

"Another one."

Cerys immediately picked another fruit slice before feeding him again calmly.

Meanwhile—

Clay completely looked like someone who had abandoned all ambition in life.

And honestly—

He liked it.

A lot.

Far away—

Unknown enemies plotted against him.

The evolved beasts continued growing stronger.

The tribes secretly prepared dangerous plans.

Maxwell nurtured hatred toward the Valmont Family.

Yet none of that existed inside Clay’s mind right now.

Instead—

He simply enjoyed the peaceful garden quietly while being attended by a beautiful maid.

Then slowly—

Clay exhaled deeply once more.

A relieved expression finally appeared on his face.

"I hope everything stays this way..."

He sighed comfortably.

Finally at peace at his place. Not knowing what was coming.