Ludger’s stomach twisted.

So that’s who disappeared… not warriors… not criminals… children.

There was no time to mourn, no time for fury, but emotion burned through him anyway, cold and hot at once. A pressure behind his ribs that made killing feel like mercy.

While the child was exposed, Ludger snapped a foot back to keep balance against the crushing force of the two active golems. Pain crawled up his arms, skin splitting under guard bracers, blood slicking leather.

He gritted his teeth.

One down.

Dozens to go.

And each rune, each word, drained mana heavily.

The longer the phrase, the more drain on his reserves. “System Disable” already took power. “Lock” added more. “Eject” pushed cost into painful territory. And running Earth Overdrive simultaneously was burning mana like wildfire in dry grass.

He couldn’t run out. Not here. Not with children trapped inside walking weapons.

He forced one golem aside with a pivot, using momentum instead of strength, Sword Dancer footwork flowing like water under stone. The second brute slammed a fist where he’d been, cracking floor panels and throwing sparks.

Ludger leapt over the fallen child, landing lightly on a crate, body coiled like a spring with blood dripping down his knuckles.

Dozens of golems glowed yellow in the dark. More waking by the second. They moved as one hive, converging, adapting, ready to drown him in metal.

He whispered, voice low and cold as dead winter:

“Fine. Then I’ll free all of them. Geez… being a good guy is a lot more troublesome than being one of the bad ones… Well, I have two little siblings to make proud of tonight.”

He raised his hand again, fingers trembling from strain, new runes forming like burning etchings in air.

If mana ran out, he’d have to rely on rage and punches. If he collapsed, these children would die as machinery. There was no acceptable outcome except victory. The golems closed in. He inhaled slowly, eyes sharpening into predatory calm. And prepared to rewrite the room.

Even underground… dozens of meters beneath cobblestone and guild estates, the fight couldn’t stay silent. Every clash shook metal beams. Every redirected blow cracked reinforced flooring like thunder caught in a box. Dust rained from the ceiling in gritty sheets, settling into Ludger’s hair like ash.

He pivoted, slid under a claw swipe, and slammed his bracer into a joint, buying milliseconds of space as two more golems boxed him in.

BOOM. CRACK. WHUM—WHAM—CLANG.

Every impact echoed through subterranean support frames like a drumbeat of violence, and the sound traveled. Up drainage shafts. Through ventilation grates. Into sewer tunnels. Then finally, through the bedrock of Coria itself.

Above… People stirred. Dogs barked. Windows rattled in the dead of night. Old men sat up from thin mattresses, confused. Children whimpered as floors quivered beneath blankets.

Mana lamps flickered awake across streets. Patrols paused, hands on hilts. Workers cracked doors open into alleys swathed in fog. Rumors hissed like snakes:

“Explosion?”

“Earthquake?”

“No, a fight.”

“Something’s happening underground—!”

In two different homes at opposite ends of the engineers district, Linne and Dalan shot awake instantly, though neither had truly been asleep. They lay still for a moment, listening.

Tremors. Mana shockwaves. Not natural. Not random.

Linne’s eyes widened first, recognition and dread mixed with adrenaline.

“He found something.”

Dalan wasn’t far behind, teeth grinding as he grabbed his cloak and tools.

“He’s fighting already… alone. Idiot or genius, can’t tell which tonight.”

They exchanged a look, no panic, just grim understanding. They’d agreed on the plan earlier, and now the trigger had arrived. If they moved now, before officials reacted, they could intercept trouble, or support Ludger’s chaos.

Because chaos was guaranteed.

Outside, noise grew as citizens left their homes, some still half-dressed, pulling boots on while scanning the streets. A few guild mages lit floating runes, trying to detect the mana signature.

But the reading wasn’t clear, too distorted. Too deep. Too… wrong.

Linne fastened a leather harness of tools across her chest, tying her hair tight.

“If civilians get involved, panic will spread. Accusations will fly. Officials will try to bury the truth. We can’t let that happen.”

Dalan nodded once, jaw set.

“Then we move. Quietly. Just like we planned.”

They slipped out into the mist-thick streets unnoticed, blending into the flow of night-watch patrols and curious onlookers, hearts beating with the same rhythm vibrating through Coria’s veins. Above ground, the city awoke to whispers of upheaval. Below ground, Ludger fought for lives trapped inside machines. And the two worlds were moments away from crashing into each other.

When Linne and Dalan reached the Guild Quarter, the place was already boiling like ants kicked out of a nest. Lanterns burned bright. Officials in embroidered coats barked orders. Armored guards formed perimeter lines, trying to contain a crowd that had only grown larger by the minute.

People were everywhere, mercenaries clutching weapons, anxious merchants, curious workers who smelled trouble and refused to go home. Some even climbed crates and wagons to try and see over heads.

And in the middle of it all stood the once-decorative rune golems, no longer lifeless ornaments but tower-tall sentinels bristling with mana.

Their eyes blazed blue, weapons drawn, scanning everyone who came within ten meters. Anyone who stepped too close earned a glowing rune aimed at their chest. Even seasoned adventurers backed off, intimidated.

“Why are they pointing weapons at us?!”

A woman shouted, fear cracking in her voice.

“They’re supposed to protect the public, not threaten it!”

“What’s going on down there?!” another demanded.

Dozens of questions followed, sharp and overlapping:

“Was it an earthquake?”

“Did someone collapse a mine?”

“Are we under attack?”

“Why is no one explaining anything?!”

Linne’s heart hammered, this was rapidly becoming a powder keg of suspicion and panic.

Then, after tense minutes, a figure in silver runic armor strode forward, long coat, polished insignia, sword at his hip. Commander Albrecht, head of the quarter.

His presence softened the crowd’s tone, if only slightly. He raised a hand for silence, voice projecting across the plaza:

“Calm yourselves. An intruder has broken into guild property. They infiltrated through underground sections and targeted highly classified development.”

The crowd erupted louder.

“Intruder?!”

“Inside the guild!?”

“How deep?! What did they steal?!”

Albrecht continued firmly:

“We have them contained. Combat is ongoing beneath the quarter. For your safety, and to prevent classified assets from leaking, nobody approaches the structure.”

His gaze swept the barricade deliberately, chin raised like he owned the street.

“We cannot allow civilians close enough to spy on restricted technology or interfere with our engagement. The golems have kill-Protocols active. Anyone who approaches risks being neutralized.”

Unease spread like oil across water. quick and slick. Whispers multiplied.

“Then it is serious…”

“If they’re using kill-protocols—”

“Who would dare infiltrate a guild arsenal?”

“Must be a war spy… or a high-rank assassin…”

Linne and Dalan exchanged a look. They couldn’t step in openly. Not now. Too many eyes. Too much tension. And the guild commander was already shaping the narrative. If Ludger escaped unnoticed, perfect. If he didn’t…

He’d be labeled a thief and executed on the spot by protocol. But one thing was certain: Whatever Ludger uncovered down there was already shaking Coria awake.

Commander Albrecht cut an imposing silhouette under the torchlight, tall, broad-shouldered, built like someone who’d killed things far bigger than himself, even if age was beginning to draw lines around his eyes. His armor was silver-gray steel layered with leather, engraved with runic trims that hummed with restrained mana. Not mass-produced, elite work. His coat hung long behind him, guild crest shining on one side of the chest, a white wolf-head emblem stitched on the other, symbol of command.

His hair was iron-black streaked with grey, pulled into a soldier’s knot. His jaw was square and clean-shaven, his gaze sharp like someone used to giving orders and never having them questioned. Even the way he stood, feet planted, chin slightly lifted, radiated authority. He looked nothing like a bureaucrat. More like a field captain who stepped into politics only after proving himself with blood and steel.

Exactly the type people trusted. Exactly the type people wouldn’t suspect. And yet, Linne and Dalan felt their stomachs twist.

They watched from the edge of the crowd, pretending to be just two more worried citizens, though their minds spun far faster.

Linne leaned closer, voice barely above breath.

“Albrecht… Former S-Rank adventurer. Retired early. Never joined the council. Always said he hated politics.”

Dalan’s eyes narrowed.

“Right. So why is he the one handling restricted tech beneath the guild hall? A retired adventurer running a top-secret basement lab? That doesn’t line up.”

Linne swallowed.

“It also doesn’t line up that Ludger of all people would break in without a reason. He’s reckless, but he’s not stupid. If he’s causing this much noise…”

Dalan finished the thought quietly:

“Then he found something bad.”

Very bad. Guild golems didn’t activate kill-protocol for minor trespass. They activated it for threats, or secrets too dangerous to allow witnesses.

Their eyes tracked Albrecht again as he spoke to his lieutenants, calm, decisive, unfazed by the chaos. He wasn’t acting like a man surprised by an infiltration. He was acting like someone containing a leak. Linne’s fingers curled into small fists at her sides.

“For all intents, Albrecht was clean. No political ties. No council sponsorship…”

Silence stretched between them, heavy as a guillotine blade.

If Albrecht was aware of what was underground, he was complicit. But confronting him now would be suicidal.

“We need Ludger to expose it,” Linne murmured.

“If we accuse Albrecht first, we’re traitors.”

“So we wait,” Dalan agreed, though anxiety tightened his jaw.

“We wait for Ludger to force the truth into the open.”

And somewhere far beneath their feet, metal screamed, stone shook, and monstrosities roared, proof that Ludger was already digging out a truth that could burn the guild quarter to the ground.

They couldn’t help him now. All they could do was hold steady…and be ready for the moment Ludger’s chaos cracked the mask of Commander Albrecht.

The ground trembled.

At first it was a subtle pulse — like distant thunder under the cobblestones — then the vibration grew into a violent shudder that sent people stumbling and grabbing onto walls. Cracks spider-webbed across the plaza. Guards shouted. Civilians panicked and surged back.

And then, BOOM.

A column of mana erupted upward like a geyser, tearing open the stone floor of the Guild Quarter with blinding light. Dust blasted through the air. The crowd screamed and fled from the epicenter, some dropping to their knees, others shielding their eyes from the raw mana flare.

Linne and Dalan froze in place. They recognized it. They had heard stories.

A technique with a ridiculous name that only one lunatic boy used, and used gladly.

Turtle Shock Wave.

The tales never did justice to reality.

The ground ruptured in a perfect circle, swallowing flooring and supports alike as if the earth itself had decided to vomit out whatever was below. A wide crater opened beneath the city street, deep enough that torches and lamps barely touched the bottom. Mana sparks drifted like embers in the night mist.

And then, through that rising cloud of dust and shattered stone… A cloaked figure rose.

Thank you for reading!

Don’t forget to follow, favorite, and rate. If you want to read 250 chapters ahead, you can check my patreon: /Comedian0

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep