The air around the Verdant Verge trembled with an unholy feel to it.

A dull red shimmer pulsed from deep within the trees, beating like a heart. It wasn’t light — it was essence, raw and tainted, flooding outward from a single point.

At the center of it all stood General Ivaan.

Blood streaked across the runes he had carved, drying in dark, uneven lines across the sealed gate’s stone surface.

The corpses of dozens of mana beasts surrounded him, their essence cores torn from their chests, scattered across the grass like jewels spilled from a broken crown.

He moved methodically, each breath a chant, each motion deliberate. His eyes were sharp but feverish, glinting with a hunger that didn’t belong to him anymore.

Old one beneath the seal…

By the blood of the strong and the call of the keeper…

Awaken, for the gate remembers its name.

Essence poured out of him like smoke from a burning vessel. The runes responded, glowing from crimson to gold, then to a bright, blinding white. His mana flared, stronger than it had any right to be for a human.

The power pressed down on the clearing like a physical weight — the kind that could make lesser men’s bones ache.

Then — a break in rhythm.

The light flickered, the chanting faltered.

Ivaan staggered, panting, as the light dimmed and the gate’s sigils dulled again.

Not enough.

“Tch…” He wiped sweat from his brow, gaze settling on the dozens of essence cores piled before him. “Fine. If my own strength isn’t enough—”

He crouched and began placing each core into the blood-drawn runes, murmuring as he worked. His movements were too precise, too experienced for a man who was supposedly just a commander.

Within moments, the forest began to hum again, responding to the ritual. The ground quaked faintly. The beasts’ essence cores shone, their light draining into the gate, the sigils blazing anew.

But even that wasn’t enough. The seals held firm.

“Still not enough…” Ivaan’s voice dropped to a whisper, tinged with bitterness and awe. “Then so be it. The limiter comes off.”

He took a deep breath — and let go.

The moment he did, a column of black mana erupted from his body, tearing through the clouds above. The forest howled in response. Birds scattered. The trees bent under the invisible weight.

Inside Delwig, every essence-sensitive being jolted awake.

And in the heart of the city, Damien froze mid-step.

He felt it like a punch through the ribs — that same faint, taunting presence he’d felt the previous day when he checked on the Gate.

His eyes widened as realization dawned.

It wasn’t coincidence.

That was Ivaan’s essence.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Damien breathed, before turning sharply toward the Verdant Verge.

Apnoch called after him, confused by the sudden panic in his face. But Damien had already moved.

“It’s him,” Damien said, his tone deadly calm. “Ivaan’s the one who killed Veyne.”

Apnoch’s expression twisted in disbelief. “That’s impossible—”

“I wanted to believe that too,” Damien interrupted, eyes flashing with fury. “But that’s over now.”

By the time Damien reached the Verdant Verge, the very forest had turned hostile.

Trees twisted under the pressure of Ivaan’s unleashed mana. The air was thick with burnt ozone, the smell of blood, and the faint crackle of energy from the runes.

Damien leapt off Aquila midair and landed hard, boots sinking slightly into the scarred soil. The sight before him stopped him cold.

Ivaan stood at the center of the clearing, ringed by glowing runes, essence bleeding from his body like smoke.

“General…” Damien’s voice was barely above a growl. “Tell me I’m wrong about what I’m seeing.”

Ivaan turned slowly. His expression was eerily calm, eyes faintly aglow with red light.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Damien.”

“And you shouldn’t be doing this.”

Their gazes locked — soldier to soldier, mentor to rogue.

“I didn’t want to believe it was you,” Damien said quietly. “But that power… that’s not Delwig’s mana signature. That’s the same presence I felt yesterday — the one that killed Veyne.”

“He saw too much, he was in the way.” Ivaan replied simply.

“The Gate’s awakening could not be delayed any longer.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “You murdered your own man for this?”

Ivaan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Sacrifices must be made if we’re to prepare what’s coming. You don’t understand what’s sealed inside that Gate, Damien. But I think I do.”

The pressure of his essence flared again, trees bending as the light from the runes grew blinding. Damien staggered a half-step backward, teeth gritted.

“Then explain it to me before I stop you.” Damien stated.

“You can’t stop this,” Ivaan said. “You’d only die trying.”

Damien’s expression hardened. “We’ll see.”

He raised his hand, summoning four black portals in the air around him. From them emerged his companions — Fenrir, Aquila, Luton, and Cerbe, the three-headed hound. Their combined presence rippled across the clearing, their roars and howls shaking the forest canopy.

Aquila’s wings stretched wide, scattering the blood and dust, while Fenrir crouched low, growling, its eyes glowing icy blue. Luton bounced and shimmered, pulsing faintly like a dark mirror, and Cerbe snarled, each of its heads exhaling smoke and flame.

Ivaan’s expression flickered — just barely — at the sight of all four.

“Impressive. But you’ll need more than that.”

Damien smirked faintly. “Don’t underestimate me just because you taught me half my tricks.”

With that, he activated a system command none ever saw him use.

“Convert thirty percent of my life force into magic essence.”

«Converting 17,000 units of Life Force to Magic Essence!»

«+170,000 Units of Magic Essence!»

His veins lit faintly as essence surged through them. A fraction of his life force converted into raw mana, and his entire aura thickened, humming with new vibration and pressure.

The ground cracked beneath his boots.

“Last chance, General,” Damien warned. “Cancel the ritual before I make you.”

Ivaan only raised his blade — a shimmering construct of crimson essence. “Then you’ll have to go through me.”

The battle exploded like a storm.

Fenrir lunged first, its claws slicing through the air in a blur of silver light. Ivaan blocked with his essence blade, sparks erupting as steel met mana.

Aquila dove from above, wind pressure rippling outward, while Cerbe unleashed his signature volley of hell’s flame.

The combined assault tore through the clearing, uprooting trees and shattering stone, but Ivaan didn’t budge. His form blurred — one moment blocking Fenrir’s jaws, the next stepping aside to dodge Cerbe’s flames.

He swung his blade once, and the shockwave alone sent Aquila spinning back midair.

Luton darted forward, reforming into dozens of red tendrils that wrapped around Ivaan’s legs. For a heartbeat, it worked — until he released another pulse of that strange, tainted mana. The tendrils evaporated instantly, leaving Luton hissing and retreating behind Damien.

Damien himself moved in, twin shortblades drawn. He ducked under a sweeping strike and slashed upward, essence burning black from the edges. The clash of their energies cracked the earth.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Ivaan admitted between strikes. “You almost make me regret this.”

“You’ll regret it soon enough.”

He backflipped, landing beside Fenrir. The wolf’s fur bristled as Damien pressed a hand against its flank, sharing essence.

Their combined aura flared — and Fenrir roared, lunging again, this time faster, sharper, a streak of white lightning.

Ivaan met him head-on. Their collision unleashed a thunderous boom. Fenrir’s claws raked across his chest — a clean, deep strike — and blood sprayed across the ground.

For the first time, Ivaan staggered back.

But the wound sealed instantly.

He looked down at the fading mark, then back up at Fenrir with a faint, dangerous smile.

“I’ll get you for that.”

He flicked his wrist, and a red sigil burst to life beneath Fenrir. The wolf barely had time to leap aside before a column of energy scorched the spot it had been standing.

Damien clenched his fists. “You’ve gone too far, General.”

“No,” Ivaan said softly, his voice growing less human with every word. “You’ve come too late.”

The glow of the runes brightened once more, now verging on pure white. The Gate trembled, its seals thrumming, though still unbroken.

The chanting continued — but this time, his words sounded twisted, fragmented between human language and something older, something that didn’t belong to the world of men.

Damien’s heart pounded as he took in the sight. His summons regrouped around him, readying for another assault, but even he could feel the rising impossibility of the task before him.

Still, he couldn’t back down.

“If you want to open that thing,” he said through gritted teeth, “you’ll have to kill me first.”

And Ivaan, eyes burning red, raised his blade again.

“Then I’ll grant you that wish.”

They charged simultaneously — two forces colliding in the center of a trembling world.

The earth quaked, trees shattered, and the Gate’s light washed over them both.

And through the chaos, one thought echoed in Damien’s mind:

‘If he breaks that seal… none of us will survive.’

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep