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The headquarters of the Mystics, the temple.

My party and I were charging through it, continuing our battle.

“Left!”

At my shout, the pillar on the left rumbled and opened.

A surge of flames poured out from it, but Xenia’s magic clashed against the fire and neutralized it.

Xenia turned to me with a startled expression.

Her eyes seemed to ask how on earth I knew every single trap in the Mystics’ stronghold—from dragon-level magic to intricate mechanisms.

‘Of course, I know.’

How many times have I played the Flame Butterfly quest?

And the Mystics episode was the one where I died the most.

‘Traps made of Mysticism itself.’

It was a high-level trap designed by the developers to torment players with malicious intent.

An episode with merciless difficulty, where every single trap had to be avoided.

Of course, there was an option to lower the difficulty for players.

However, the game only offered this option after a failed infiltration attempt.

As if mocking the player, it suggested:

“Having a hard time? Lower the difficulty!”

I ignored that offer and stuck with the hardest difficulty.

I was slaughtered over and over again, but eventually, I memorized every single trap in the Mystics’ temple.

‘Now that it’s reality, of course, I’d rather take the easier route.’

But to unlock the lower difficulty, I’d have to fail once.

And in reality, failure meant death.

‘Like hell I’ll die.’

In this world, you only get one chance.

So, I thoroughly recalled and dismantled every trap I had memorized.

The Mystics were clearly flustered.

We were breaking through the temple much faster than they anticipated.

They had likely planned to stall us and feed us to the dragon.

Even with the Duke of Whitewood, facing a dragon was nothing more than a battle of endurance.

Since it couldn’t be defeated, it was ultimately a fight against time.

And this situation revealed something else.

‘They have a reason they can’t flee right away.’

While the dragon had its eyes on us, they were working on something.

And it wasn’t hard to figure out what that was.

‘Vulcan must be trying to absorb Narea.’

Even with only half of her power, Vulcan planned to absorb Narea.

To do that, he needed to use the Mysticism prepared within the temple, which explained their behavior.

At that moment, molten metal and poisonous liquid rained down from the ceiling.

I swiftly dodged the traps and kept running.

The traps served as indicators, helping me estimate how far we had advanced.

“R-Ryu, is this really possible with just us?!”

Xenia shouted with disbelief.

The Mystics were throwing everything they had at us, desperate to stop us.

But Centriol and the Duke of Whitewood’s retainers swiftly cut them down.

Both were showing the skill expected from elite forces.

Still, Xenia doubted whether this small group could take down the entire Mystics cult without the Duke of Whitewood herself.

We couldn’t bring a large force with us this time.

Acrede, as the Saint, couldn’t let the Holy Kingdom know she was cooperating in the hunt for the Mystics.

The Holy Kingdom was divided between the royalists and the church faction.

Neither side would have approved of this.

But Acrede had her reasons.

And without her, we wouldn’t have been able to locate the Mystics.

Thus, we had no choice but to move with a small force.

Yes, for now.

“We’re not the only ones moving.”

This scenario was different from the original storyline.

To match that, I had prepared reinforcements.

“The Blue Tower and the Royal Knights are in motion.”

“The Blue Tower and the Royal Knights?!”

“Yes, I asked the First Prince and the Blue Tower Lord for help.”

Xenia’s eyes widened in shock.

She hadn’t expected such powerful forces to be mobilized.

The Mystics were a notorious cult.

Though they had vanished once, their infamy was still legendary.

Eradicating the Mystics would be a matter of national honor.

The power-hungry factions wouldn’t sit still after hearing of such an opportunity.

Of course not.

That was why the First Prince got involved.

In the original story, the First Prince was always part of the operation to wipe out the Mystics.

The Mystics episode was meant to destabilize the Duke of Robliage.

After observing Lucas’s movements, the First Prince discovered the incident involving Lucas and the Saint.

The Saint was at the center of the Holy Kingdom’s power struggle.

Even Lucas alone couldn’t handle the massive political scale.

So, the First Prince played his card.

He took responsibility for the Mystics operation, telling Lucas to fight without restraint.

As a result, Lucas saved Xenia from danger and stormed into the Mystics’ lair to rescue Acrede, who had been captured by Vulcan.

Lucas defeated Vulcan, and the entire Mystics cult was captured.

All the glory went to the First Prince.

Furthermore, the First Prince resolved the discord between the Holy Kingdom and the Robliage Duchy, strengthening his ties with the Holy Church.

This dramatically tilted the balance in the battle for the throne.

The Duke of Robliage, in desperation, turned to demonic power to counter the growing influence of the First Prince.

That was the storyline for Act 5.

However, this time, the Duke of Whitewood was leading the operation.

Not even the First Prince could easily interfere in an operation led by the Duke of Whitewood.

That was why I threw my card.

The words I once said to the First Prince.

That I would never allow Duke Robliage to become emperor.

And that if he helped me, I would let him take credit for this accomplishment.

The Blue Tower was a given.

After all, if their daughter’s fiancé intended to walk the path of a hero, they would naturally offer their full support.

Zerion’s magic could be used to rely on the help of my future father-in-law, who would gladly assist with anything.

The wheels of state were accelerating dangerously, balancing on a precarious tightrope.

And the faster they moved, the more essential it was to fasten a safety belt.

The Blue Tower and the Imperial Knights.

Two forces so formidable that even Duke of Whitewood herself would hesitate to act against them.

By rousing them into action, I had prepared two safety belts.

Xenia's eyes trembled violently.

Her expression was that of someone who no longer knew what kind of person I was.

"…Didn’t you say you were a mere attendant?"

"I figured I should keep my identity hidden until I arrived here. I lied a little."

I pressed against the Veil Bandages.

Gradually, my appearance changed—my frame shrank, and my jet-black hair scattered into the air.

As crimson bled into my eyes, Xenia's widened in shock.

"Nice to meet you, Xenia. I’m Hannon Irey, a student at Zerion Academy."

"Hannon Irey…"

Xenia recognized the name immediately.

After all, the story of how I had wielded the ancient dragon’s magic and was subsequently taken into royal custody was already well-known.

"The fiancé of the Blue Tower Master’s daughter."

Naturally, that made me famous as well.

"Took you long enough to reveal yourself,"

Isabel quipped, swinging her sword beside me.

"Ugh, I was dying from frustration! Hannon, I can finally call you by your real name now, right?"

"Yes, Acrede, please do."

At Acrede's exclamation from where she clung to Centriol, I casually shrugged.

Xenia gazed at me in a daze.

The Duke of Whitewood and the Saintess.

The First Prince and the Blue Tower Master.

I was intertwined with every major figure in the world.

It was no wonder Xenia was left bewildered.

"…What are you, exactly, senior?"

Since she was due to enter the academy next year, she must have chosen to address me as her senior in advance.

Finding her manners commendable, I smiled faintly.

"A second-year student in the Zerion Academy’s martial arts department."

It wasn’t the answer Xenia was hoping for.

Her brows furrowed slightly, but I didn’t give her time to dwell on it.

By then, we had reached the end of the temple—a forest of countless pillars stretched before us.

At its edge loomed a staircase reaching endlessly upward.

Beyond the columns, where there should have been a wall, flowed a strange darkness.

Flickering through the gloom were eerie lights, like fireflies dancing in the night.

"We’re here,"

Musika halted her steps, and the others following me stopped in turn.

She gracefully dismounted from her skeletal steed.

"The place reeks of twisted, chaotic souls. Nasty energy everywhere,"

Her face was filled with unease.

She was right—the steel flesh and remnants of the ancient dragon were reacting more intensely than ever.

"Stop them!"

"Don't let them reach the altar!"

The cultists of Mysticism burst in from behind, giving chase.

"Go ahead without me."

Duke of Whitewood’s attendant drew his sword and turned to face them.

He would be more than capable of holding them off.

"Let’s go."

At my words, everyone began climbing the stairs.

Strangely, the higher we climbed, the more uneven the steps became.

Some could be crossed in a single stride, while others were so tall they were like cliffs to scale.

But by now, none of us were bound by mere height.

Xenia ascended with magic, while Isabel soared with the wings of the goddess.

Musika rode her skeletal horse, and Centriol and I relied on sheer physical prowess.

"Eeek!"

Only Acrede, startled by the sudden leaps, occasionally stifled a scream.

The further we climbed, the more the oppressive aura weighed upon us.

A growing sense of foreboding stirred in me.

Vulcan viewed Duke of Whitewood as a dangerous threat and was hastening his plans.

He was even prepared to awaken the Earth Dragon.

I can’t predict the full extent of Vulcan's erratic actions.

That was why I had resorted to every means possible, sparing no effort.

Boom—

At that moment, I heard a deep rumbling, like the grinding of colossal wheels.

The wheels of fate were turning with an ominous, unstoppable momentum.

Fate is only bent by a force powerful enough to distort it.

And everything I had done so far—

Was it truly so insignificant?

Shiver—

For the first time in ages, a chill ran down my spine.

Even with the Veil's bandages numbing my emotions, my instincts responded to the creeping dread.

"…Shit,"

That was when I heard Musika mutter a curse under her breath.

It struck me then—

All the hurried, desperate actions I had taken while pushing the scenario forward…

There was one crucial loose end I had overlooked.

No, it was likely not just one.

To fill the void left by Lucas, I had employed countless methods, forcibly driving the narrative of fate.

And in doing so, I had tampered with countless variables to pursue my ideal happy ending.

But it had triggered countless butterfly effects, culminating in this final storm.

From the darkness overhead, the ceiling split open.

From within, a skeletal hand I had seen once before tore through the void and began descending.

Boom—

At the sight of the bony hand, everyone's face stiffened.

And beneath that monstrous hand,

stood a lone man.

The leader of Mysticism.

Vulcan Zebra.

A discarded prince of the Illusion Kingdom,

treated as filth due to his impure bloodline.

He had made a pact with the Abomination.