Clay remained silent for a while after speaking to the system.

The gryphon continued flying calmly through the sky while the cold wind brushed against his black hair. Below him, the roads stretched endlessly across the land while the distant forests swayed beneath the afternoon light.

Frazanna and the Holy Knights still waited nearby without daring to interrupt him.

From their perspective, the young master of the Valmont Family merely looked thoughtful.

But inside Clay’s mind, countless plans were already forming one after another.

Finally—

He slowly turned his head.

"Maid Cy."

Cerys immediately raised her head.

"Yes, young master."

Clay’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"There’s something I need you to do."

Cerys quietly listened.

Clay crossed his arms while organizing his thoughts carefully.

He could not move recklessly.

Not against a main character.

Especially not one who already escaped from Maid Cy once.

That alone was already ridiculous enough.

And the more the system explained fate and protagonists to him, the more careful he became.

Clay slowly spoke.

"I need information."

Cerys nodded immediately.

"Yes."

"I also need preparation."

"Yes."

"And most importantly..."

His gaze gradually sharpened.

"...I need ways to stop escape methods."

For the first time, Cerys looked slightly serious.

"You believe he can escape again?"

Clay immediately answered.

"He already did."

Cerys became quiet.

That was true.

Even now, she still remembered it clearly.

Her Shadow Vexation had covered the entire battlefield.

Her daggers had cornered Maxwell completely.

His master had sacrificed himself.

And yet—

Maxwell still escaped alive.

Even now, that fact still irritated her greatly.

Clay slowly exhaled.

"I underestimated him before."

His eyes narrowed faintly.

"I won’t repeat that mistake."

Cerys lowered her head slightly.

"What does young master want me to prepare?"

Clay became thoughtful again.

Then finally—

"First, gather information about teleportation magic."

Cerys blinked slightly.

"Teleportation?"

"Yes."

Clay’s expression gradually became colder.

"If Maxwell escaped once using it, then he’ll rely on it again eventually."

Cerys nodded slowly.

"I understand."

"Second..."

Clay looked toward the distant horizon.

"...I need information on ruins."

"Ancient ruins."

"Dragon related ruins."

"Mana rich areas."

"Anywhere a protagonist would conveniently stumble into power."

Cerys quietly listened while memorizing every word.

Meanwhile Clay continued speaking.

"He’s injured."

"He lost his master."

"He hates me now."

"So he’ll desperately search for strength."

His eyes slowly narrowed.

"And knowing protagonists..."

"...he’ll probably find it."

Cerys remained silent for a moment.

Then finally—

"Young master is taking him very seriously."

Clay immediately answered.

"Yes."

Very direct.

Very simple.

No arrogance.

No pride.

That answer alone made Cerys slightly surprised.

Because from everything she had seen—

Clay treated almost everything casually.

Even powerful enemies.

Even the former Bersuka Warchief.

Even terrifying beasts.

But now—

For the first time—

He truly sounded cautious.

Clay sighed quietly.

"I’d rather overprepare than die because of pride."

Cerys lowered her gaze slightly.

"...Understood."

Then Clay continued.

"Third..."

His voice became calmer.

"...I need methods to seal movement."

Cerys immediately understood.

"You wish to prevent teleportation."

"Yes."

Clay’s eyes became colder.

"If I corner him next time..."

"...I want him trapped completely."

Silence followed briefly.

Then finally—

Cerys nodded once more.

"I will prepare everything."

Clay looked at her carefully for a moment.

Then suddenly—

"Maid Cy."

"Yes, young master?"

"...Can you do it?"

Cerys answered without hesitation.

"Yes."

Not even the slightest pause.

Not even uncertainty.

Just absolute confidence.

Clay stared at her quietly.

Then finally—

"Good."

The gryphon slowly descended lower toward the roads below while the sky gradually darkened.

The atmosphere became calmer again.

But this time—

The calmness felt different.

Not peaceful.

Not relaxed.

But more like the silence before something dangerous.

Meanwhile inside Clay’s mind, plans slowly continued forming.

The system was right about one thing.

If he failed carelessly—

Then the main character would only grow stronger.

And if that happened repeatedly—

The future would become increasingly dangerous.

So this time—

He would prepare properly.

No reckless fights.

No arrogant confrontations.

No giving Maxwell opportunities to awaken conveniently during battle.

If he moved—

Then he would move with certainty.

The wind blew quietly around them.

Then after a while, Clay suddenly asked—

"How long?"

Cerys answered immediately.

"If young master wants everything prepared carefully..."

She paused briefly.

"...then several days."

Clay nodded slowly.

"That’s fine."

He looked toward the horizon again.

"I’m not in a hurry anymore."

Because now—

He finally understood something important.

A careless enemy was manageable.

But a prepared protagonist—

That was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

The gryphon eventually descended near the outskirts of the border town while the evening sky turned orange.

Servants immediately hurried over after seeing the Valmont crest.

Knights bowed respectfully.

Civilians moved aside nervously.

And throughout all of it—

Clay remained quiet.

Meanwhile beside him, Cerys had already begun planning everything inside her head.

Information networks.

Teleportation sealing methods.

Ancient ruins.

Dragon inheritances.

Potential movement routes.

Hidden factions.

She would investigate all of them personally.

After all—

This matter now involved young master’s safety.

And anything involving that immediately became her highest priority.

The days that followed became unusually calm.

Too calm.

Clay spent most of his time inside the mansion.

Eating.

Resting.

Walking occasionally.

Pretending everything remained normal.

Meanwhile behind the scenes—

Preparations quietly began moving.

Messages were delivered.

Information was gathered.

Suspicious ruins were marked.

Ancient records involving movement sealing were searched.

Even Borzoi and the Bersuka warriors secretly began assisting.

Not because they understood everything.

But because the young Warchief ordered it.

And that alone was enough.

Meanwhile far away—

Somewhere unknown—

Maxwell was also growing stronger.

Though Clay did not know exactly where he was yet—

He already knew one thing clearly.

The next meeting between them would not resemble the last one.

This time—

Both sides would come prepared.

And because of that—

The next clash would become far more dangerous than before.

...

Far away from the border town, inside a medium sized city filled with frightened civilians and exhausted guards, Maxwell slowly walked through a narrow street covered in cracked stone and scattered debris.

Several nearby buildings had partially collapsed.

Smoke still rose from some corners of the city.

The smell of blood lingered heavily in the air.

And yet—

Despite the destruction around him—

Maxwell’s expression slowly relaxed for the first time in days.

He lifted his head slightly and looked toward the evening sky.

"...Good enough."

His voice sounded tired.

But satisfied.

Around him, whispers quietly spread from one person to another.

"The Valmont Family..."

"They said the young master caused the beasts..."

"I heard he controls those monsters..."

"The border town only survived because the beasts obey him..."

"He must be connected..."

Fear.

Suspicion.

Doubt.

The seeds had already been planted.

Maxwell slowly exhaled.

Even now, his body still hurt terribly.

His wounds had mostly healed due to the draconic bloodline, but the exhaustion remained deep inside him.

Especially after losing his master.

His fists slowly clenched.

For a brief moment, grief flashed across his face again.

But soon—

That grief turned into hatred.

Cold hatred.

Clay Valmont...

Maxwell’s eyes darkened.

Even now, he still remembered it clearly.

The maid.

The darkness.

The daggers.

The impossible assassin.

And behind all of it—

The existence standing above everything else.

The young master of the Valmont Family.

The hidden mastermind behind the beast tide.

At least—

That was what Maxwell believed.

And now—

The rumors were already spreading.

Soon enough, people would begin fearing the Valmont Family.

Distrusting them.

Watching them.

And once suspicion started growing—

More enemies would naturally appear.

Maxwell slowly lowered his gaze.

"...You’ll regret it."

But suddenly—

His expression froze.

The atmosphere changed.

The evening wind became colder.

The surrounding sounds gradually disappeared.

The nearby civilians unknowingly stepped away one after another.

And then—

A shadow slowly appeared at the end of the street.

Black smoke quietly spread across the ground.

Maxwell’s eyes immediately narrowed.

"...You again?"

The figure calmly walked forward.

A maid outfit.

Silver hair.

Cold eyes.

But something felt slightly different.

Maxwell’s expression became uglier.

"How did you find me?"

The maid stopped several meters away.

Then calmly—

She answered.

"Well..."

Her voice remained emotionless.

"If not for young master..."

"...I wouldn’t be able to hunt you."

Maxwell immediately stiffened.

"You told him?"

The maid stared at him quietly.

"I only informed young master about suspicious movements."

Maxwell’s jaw tightened.

Then suddenly—

His eyes widened slightly.

"...Clone."

The maid did not deny it.

Maxwell immediately understood.

This presence felt weaker than before.

Still terrifying.

Still dangerous.

But not the same overwhelming pressure from that night.

And somehow—

That realization made him even more horrified.

Because if this was merely a clone—

Then how powerful was the real one?

The maid calmly continued speaking.

"You are troublesome."

Black smoke slowly spread around her feet.

"So I’ll end you before young master comes."

Maxwell’s eyes immediately sharpened.

"You think a clone can kill me?"

The maid tilted her head slightly.

Then calmly—

"We’ll see."

The next moment—

She disappeared.

Maxwell’s pupils contracted violently.

Then—

A dagger suddenly slashed toward his throat.

Clang!

He barely blocked it with draconic mana coating his arm.

But before he could react further—

Another dagger appeared from behind.

Then another.

Then another.

Maxwell immediately jumped backward.

Boom!

The ground exploded beneath him.

Black smoke erupted everywhere.

The entire street rapidly darkened.

Nearby civilians screamed and fled in terror.

Maxwell immediately activated his draconic senses.

Golden white light erupted from his body.

But the moment the light spread—

The smoke swallowed it whole again.

His expression instantly changed.

Again.

This nightmare again.

He could not see her.

Could not hear her properly.

Could not sense her clearly.

And worst of all—

He did not know where the next attack would come from.

Clang!

A dagger suddenly scraped across his scales.

Another pierced his shoulder.

Another slashed across his ribs.

Maxwell immediately retaliated.

Several massive light spears exploded outward in every direction.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Buildings cracked apart.

Stone shattered.

Light flooded the street.

But the maid was nowhere.

Then suddenly—

A cold voice appeared beside his ear.

"Too slow."

Maxwell’s eyes widened.

Slash!

Blood sprayed across his cheek.

He immediately swung his fist toward the voice.

But it hit nothing.

Only smoke.

Then suddenly—

A kick slammed directly into his ribs.

Boom!

Maxwell crashed through a wall violently.

Dust exploded everywhere.

He quickly rose again—

Only for several daggers to rain toward him instantly.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Some bounced off his dragon scales.

Others pierced through weaker sections.

Blood slowly dripped onto the ruined street.

Maxwell’s breathing gradually became heavier.

His eyes rapidly moved around the darkness.

Where is she...?!

He could not find her.

No matter how hard he focused—

Nothing.

Then suddenly—

The maid’s voice echoed again.

"You are weaker than before."

Maxwell gritted his teeth.

"You coward!"

The smoke silently moved.

"You rely too much on your senses."

Another dagger suddenly pierced through his thigh.

Maxwell immediately staggered.

Then—

A shadow appeared directly in front of him.

His eyes widened.

Too fast.

Far too fast.

The maid’s knee slammed into his stomach instantly.

Boom!

Maxwell coughed blood violently.

Before he could recover—

A dagger pierced straight through his shoulder and nailed him against a broken wall.

"Aghhh!"

He struggled violently.

Then suddenly—

The maid appeared in front of him again.

Calm.

Cold.

Her eyes emotionless.

"This ends here."

Black smoke gathered around her hand.

Maxwell immediately panicked.

Golden draconic light erupted from his body again desperately.

Boom!

The wall behind him exploded apart.

He forced himself free violently and retreated backward.

His breathing became rougher now.

More unstable.

And for the first time since this battle started—

Fear appeared in his eyes again.

Not because he was losing.

But because—

He realized something horrifying.

This maid clone alone—

Was already enough to corner him completely.

Maxwell slowly stared at the darkness surrounding him.

His pupils trembled slightly.

Then finally—

He spoke in genuine disbelief.

"...This is only a clone?"