The others nodded and quickly set to work.

When Ian stepped closer, Nasser turned his head slightly. "Priest, could you give me a hand?"

"Hmm? Ah, sure, sure."

Miguel glanced at Ian with a puzzled tilt of his head, but turned without complaint.

Ignoring Nasser’s smile, Ian walked over to Mev’s side, pulling a pair of vambraces from the floor with his Willful Grasp.

"You don’t need to raise your arm."

"Alright," Mev answered without stopping the motion of fastening her shoulder plate.

Ian slid the armor neatly over her right arm. For a moment, only the clanking of metal filled the room.

"This happened because of that Worm, didn’t it?" Thesaya’s voice rang out from near the stairs. She burst out of the study and came running toward them.

"That seems to be the case, Elder. Please fasten this forearm clasp one notch looser, Priest," Nasser answered instead of Ian, who wasn’t even glancing their way.

Nasser had nearly finished equipping his armor and was shifting around to check the finer adjustments, his muscular forearms and hands exposed.

"What on earth did it do to get caught this fast?" Thesaya clicked her tongue as she skidded to a stop near them.

Good question.

"Anyway, it was just like we expected. There were carved magic stones and essence beads rolling around in the drawers, and the walls were lined with staffs and wands." Thesaya shrugged.

Ian glanced at her. She was holding a magic wand in each hand. When their eyes met, Thesaya smiled and held out the wand in her left hand.

"I picked the ones that looked best. This one’s yours, Ian."

"Thanks. Toss it over there." Ian jerked his chin toward the floor.

Thesaya casually tossed the wand at his feet. Its upper ornament resembled the talon of a bird of prey, with a palm-sized essence embedded in it. Below it hung a small leather pouch tied on with a cord.

"I put a few magic stones and essences in the pouch, so if you need them—" Thesaya trailed off mid-sentence.

Ian and the others paused for a moment as well.

Rumble... Thud—

A thunderous sound crashed through the chamber, like lightning striking somewhere far away. The spell circuits glowing red meant the soundproofing had likely been disabled.

"Go upstairs and get Moro, Thesa," said Ian, resuming his movements. "Bring it to the entrance by the wall where Nasser and Miguel left their weapons."

"Ah—okay!" Thesaya blinked quickly and nodded.

Miguel, who had been standing behind Nasser, added, "I know the way. I’ll go with you."

"Then hurry up and follow me, Prosthetic!" Thesaya spun around and dashed off.

Miguel hurried after her.

"At least it’s not entirely bad news. It means things are still unfolding," said Nasser, picking up the shield from the floor.

A moment later, Mev stood up after pulling on her helmet and flexing her gauntleted hands.

"Do you think the Tower Master might have sealed off the top level?"

"Hard to say. We’ll find out when we get there."

Ian shrugged as he extended the Blazing Judgment toward her with Willful Grasp.

"I doubt it, though. They probably never imagined anyone would break through that far. And he’ll want a report too."

"True... that might be the case." Even while nodding calmly, Mev accepted the divine sword with both hands in a respectful grip.

Ian smiled faintly and turned away. "If it is sealed off, we’ll just clear everything above us and figure something out."

The magic wand held by his Willful Grasp flew into his hand as he began walking. It was Gale Wand, a rare-grade piece of equipment whose properties could be inspected.

Ian’s hand paused just as he untied the leather pouch attached to it.

Of all things to bring...

Despite its impressive appearance, it functioned more like a mace than a proper magic wand. Its durability and physical attack power were unnecessarily high, and it even increased attack speed and agility.

There’s no way she picked this on purpose, right?

Clicking his tongue at the reasonable suspicion, Ian began untying the string that secured the leather pouch again.

It wasn’t something he would use for life anyway, and back when this had been a game, situations like this had actually been common. Besides, the numbers weren’t that bad. It still had the most important options—reduced magic consumption and spell amplification.

Of course, those effects only activated when essence beads and magic stones were installed. The magic stone slot was set just below the grip.

Rumble!

As another thunderous boom echoed, seemingly closer this time, Ian ran up the stairs and entered the marble-paved courtyard.

The entire area was bathed in a reddish glow, just like the basement. The spell circuits on the upper ceiling were flashing red as well.

Catching the scent of blood in the air, Ian crossed the courtyard and entered the mansion. Moro stood there stiffly, and Miguel, with his prosthetic arm fitted with a crossbow.

"I can’t find the door, Ian!" Thesaya stood nearby, gripping a magic wand in her right hand and Nasser’s sheathed sword in her left.

"Calm down. I know where it is," Ian said after briefly studying the elegant wand she carried. It wasn’t just because he had watched Roben operate the mechanism earlier.

Swoosh—

Ian could clearly see the flow of magic moving through the spell circuits. With the alarm, his trait had begun to activate.

Ian walked toward the point where magic was gathering and extended his Willful Grasp.

Click... rumble...

With the sound of the mechanism activating, the hidden door slowly began to rise.

Relieved that it worked, Ian stopped beside Moro.

Moro snorted softly. Blood was splattered across various parts of its armor—likely from when it killed the masked slave. That must have been the source of the blood scent in the air.

"Good thing it didn’t eat any human flesh. If it had, I was going to smack its backside." Thesaya said while tossing Nasser’s sword back to him.

Ian placed a hand on Moro’s neck and smiled faintly. "Good work."

Then he glanced at Miguel, who was staring tensely toward the door. "You remember where the lift is?"

"If we go from here... don’t we turn left at the fork?"

"Exactly. Good memory. Just in case, make sure you remind this one too."

"Remind who?" Miguel finally turned toward Ian—and froze.

A violet glow flickered in Ian’s eyes.

Following his gaze, Miguel looked at Moro. Violet mist was seeping through the gaps in its armor.

"You’re saying we’re riding this thing?"

"Only you and those two." Ian tilted his head toward Mev and Nasser, who were finishing their final checks.

"Priest, you ride at the back. I’ll take the front," said Nasser calmly, meeting Miguel’s gaze.

Ian removed his hand from Moro and started leading it toward the door.

"Why am I excluded?" Thesaya frowned and called after him.

"You’re light on your feet. You’re running with me," Ian answered without even turning around.

"What? Are you seriously making a mage run? Last time you forced me to ride—"

Ian ignored the rest and stepped outside.

The empty street was bathed in red light.

Gripping the wand in his right hand, he said, "Return to your true form, Moro."

Moro followed him out and snorted again in response.

At almost the same moment, the violet glow gathering across its armored body grew even brighter.

Crunch— Crackle!

Moro’s began swelling larger. The armor plating split apart like scales and sank deeper into its hide, while the metal horn jutting from its brow grew longer and sharper.

Crunch—

Even as the transformation continued, intermittent explosions echoed from various parts of the upper level.

Ian glanced around, the corner of his mouth twisting slightly.

Did it really sweep through this whole area in that short time?

Only now did he realize that Yog hadn’t been discovered the moment it began causing chaos. Yog had literally darted around like a beam of light, breaking the seals on the slaves one after another. By now, it was probably doing the same thing on the middle levels.

Grrr...

So that confidence hadn’t been baseless after all.

A deep, rumbling breath sounded behind him. Moro had finished its transformation.

"Lu Entre... good heavens..." Miguel’s astonished murmur followed as he stepped outside.

Moro, in its true form, looked like a massive black rhinoceros clad in armor. The reaction wasn’t surprising.

"If His Highness truly commands a legion riding beasts like this, no wonder the civil war drags on," Nasser said calmly as he stepped onto Moro’s stirrup and vaulted up. Mev followed him onto the saddle.

"What the! It’s way bigger than last time. With this size, it could carry four, not three. Then why can’t I—" Thesaya frowned. She suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Ian snapped his head toward the street.

Rumble...

The faint sound of a gate opening reached his ears. Down the road, a section of the wall was slowly sliding open.

"Whatever comes out, break through it and keep running, Moro," Ian said as he bent his knees.

The next moment, Moro growled and charged forward, rushing past him.

"W-Whoa!" Miguel, who had barely settled onto the saddle, nearly tipped backward.

Ian shoved his back forward with his Willful Grasp and started running after them, his gaze fixed ahead.

Rumble... rumble...

Even now, sounds were echoing.

It wasn’t just one gate opening.

"Phew... Phew..."

From the first gate that opened, a middle-aged mage staggered out, leaning on a staff.

The hooded cloak draped over him was dark red with blood. That must have been why he hadn’t noticed the pounding of Moro’s hooves.

He must’ve been ambushed by one of the freed slaves.

It wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened inside.

The mage looked mortally wounded, but he had apparently survived.

Of course, that victory would only last a moment.

Rumble—

A war beast that had carried warriors through countless battles against corrupters was charging straight toward him.

The mage finally registered the pounding hooves and turned his head.

His eyes widened as if they would split apart when he saw the violet chaos gleaming in theirs. His blood-stained lips parted slightly beneath his beard.

That was the last thing he did.

Crunch—

Moro swept him aside without slowing.

Raising its lowered head in one violent motion, it impaled the dark mage on its bladed horn. The body shot upward like a rag doll.

Blood burst from the man’s eyes, nose, and mouth. Every bone in his body seemed to shatter at once, leaving him limp and broken as he hung skewered on the horn.

Slash!

The blade of Mev’s raised divine sword swept across him next. The dark mage split cleanly in two, the halves falling as blood and chunks of organs scattered through the air.

"I take back what I said earlier, Ian," Thesaya said then, running beside him. "Just watching might not be so bad after all."

She was watching the corpse tumble down in a spray of blood and viscera as if it were some kind of fireworks display.

He should’ve just transformed already.

Ian snorted inwardly as they passed the dead dark mage.

Of course, it wouldn’t have been an easy choice. Unless the transformation into a demon was perfect, the mage would never again be able to return to human form.

"You... vermin!"

At that moment, Ian realized that someone else had chosen the gamble.

Ian turned his gaze forward.

Across the road beyond the plaza, a spellcaster stood with his head grotesquely swollen, raising a staff.

Ian quickly realized the words weren’t directed at his group.

"Ghh...ugh!"

"Uuugh—"

Behind the dark mage, two freed masked slaves were rushing him. One clutched a staff like a club.

Crackle!

Lightning gathered along the staff, but the slaves reached the mage first.

They crashed into him, tumbling together across the ground. Beyond them, more masked slaves staggered out into the open.

So the one who killed itself was the exception.

A faint, bitter smile crossed Ian’s lips. Of course, there was no way every masked slave would choose the same end.

"Left! Turn left!" Miguel’s urgent shout rang out just then.

Moro, carrying them, had already reached the edge of the central plaza. The beast slammed its hooves against the stone and swung its massive body around.

"Whoa, what the hell!" Miguel cried out, clinging to Mev’s waist.

As Moro scraped the ground and surged forward again, Ian saw why.

Crackle!

The road ahead had turned into utter chaos.

Freed slaves and mutated dark mages were tangled together in a violent melee. One of the slaves was even crushing the body of a mage who had already stopped breathing.

"Ghh...ugh!"

"Grrr..."

Others were charging straight toward them.

However, Moro didn’t slow down. Head lowered, it charged straight ahead.

Ian's eyes tightened, following the approaching masked slaves.

"Don’t attack! Just pass through!"

The moment he shouted, Mev, who had raised her sword, hesitated. Miguel, aiming his repeating crossbow while holding her waist, froze as well.

Only Nasser remained unchanged, shield raised diagonally.

"Ghh...ughhh—"

"Grrrk!"

The masked slaves rushed past Moro moments later.

One slammed into the beast and was thrown aside, yet it quickly got back up and continued running.

"They know we helped them? How?" Thesaya exclaimed in disbelief.

Ian only shrugged. He had noticed they weren’t charging Moro, but he didn’t know the exact reason.

Perhaps they sensed the same chaos power emanating from Moro, the same power that had broken their seals.

"Ghh...ugh!"

"Grrr—"

In any case, the masked slaves ran past Ian and Thesaya as well, sprinting down the road in the opposite direction.

Are they heading for the middle levels?

Ian glanced back, his eyes narrowing.

That was the only explanation.

At the end of that road was the elevator leading to the middle levels. Of course, whatever their intentions were didn’t matter right now.

Crack, crunch!

The important thing was that none of them blocked the group’s path.

Some unlucky slaves were trampled or knocked aside by Moro, but they simply got back up. None chased the beast or attacked Ian and Thesaya.

Instead, they ran toward other corrupted mages or toward the elevator.

"They know gratitude."

Passing through the chaos, Thesaya let out a faint laugh. Moro had slowed slightly, but her breathing remained perfectly steady.

Ian wasn’t paying attention to the surroundings anymore.

Instead, he stared toward the far end of the road, his brow tightening.

Rumble...

The massive gate set into the wall was slowly opening from both sides.

And from beyond it, a towering figure in full plate armor stood, large enough to nearly brush the elevator ceiling, stepped into view.