Why is Background Character the Strongest Now?-Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The rhythmic hum of the mana train echoed through the cabin, pulsing like the heartbeat of a beast in motion. Soft arcs of blue light ran along the interior walls, powered by pure etherium. Outside, landscapes blurred—a mosaic of forests, hills, and ruined stone archways long forgotten by history.

"Are we there yet?" Dravis asked for the fourth time.

Ezra didn’t answer right away. He pressed two fingers against the side of his temple, exhaling through his nose like someone resisting the urge to throw a fellow passenger out of a moving train.

"We’ll arrive soon," he replied, voice calm but clipped.

Dravis blinked. "Oh... okay." A beat passed. "Are you sure?"

Ezra didn’t answer.

"Can’t we just take a warp portal?" Marcus said with a groan, stretching his legs across the seat. "I don’t get why we’re playing poor. This ride sucks."

"Because warp portals cost a fortune," Ezra muttered without looking up.

Evelyne, who had been admiring her reflection in the polished train window, tilted her head. "Wait, they do?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "Aren’t they, like... what? A thousand gold per person?"

Ezra slowly turned to her, his stare blank. "That is a fortune."

"Oh..." Evelyne blinked, then smiled sheepishly. "Right. I forget not everyone grew up with a treasury vault." She chuckled, twirling a lock of silver hair around her finger, utterly unaware of the glares around her.

Ezra turned back to the window. One more comment, and he might actually snap.

Across from him, Dalen sat straight-backed and composed, his noble uniform perfectly pressed, not a strand of hair out of place. But Ezra noticed the way his jaw clenched every time Dravis opened his mouth.

Even the always-polished Dalen was cracking.

Finally, Dalen spoke. "Ezra. The girl we’re after—Elia Seraphine. What do we know?"

Ezra welcomed the change of subject. "Only a name, a grainy photograph, and her last known location. Blackridge."

Dalen frowned. "Are we certain?"

"That’s where she was seen. But I doubt she’s still there. If she was taken, they’ve likely moved her already. Still, we need to start somewhere."

Dalen nodded. "Then we waste no time. Once we arrive, we begin immediately."

"Already planned for it." Ezra stood and stretched. "We’ll split up. Marcus, Evelyne—you’re one team. Dalen, Lyria—you’re another. Ask around town, circulate her photo. Focus on taverns, brokers, and apothecaries. Dravis, you’re with me."

Dravis perked up. "Really? Where are we going?"

"We’re going to the magistrate’s office," Ezra said. "Every town keeps a record of its citizens—names, addresses, occupation, family ties. If Elia was ever registered here, even briefly, her information will be in their system. And if she’s not? Then that tells us something too."

"Nice," Dravis grinned. "I always wanted to interrogate someone!"

"This isn’t an interrogation," Ezra said. "It’s diplomacy. Don’t break anything."

Just then, the train’s A.I. voice chimed:

[Approaching Blackridge Station. Please prepare for disembarkation.]

The train began to slow. The windows darkened as they passed through the tunnel leading into the city, the outside world swallowed by stone and shadow.

Ezra stood and checked the small glyph on his wrist—a private signal. Kael, invisible since they left the academy, was still nearby. He sent a subtle gesture toward the air—barely noticeable to the rest of the team.

Kael, watching from the ceiling corner like a spider in the shadows, noticed the motion. "Hmph. Still trying to play the lone wolf," he muttered. With a flick of his wrist, he duplicated himself using his clone technique. One shadow slipped after Marcus’s group, while the real Kael silently stalked after Ezra.

As the doors hissed open, the cold scent of Blackridge hit them like a wall—wet stone, ash, and something metallic lingering just under the surface.

The platform was dim and cracked, lit by flickering mage-lamps overhead. The air was thick, not just with humidity but with secrets. People walked with their heads down, and even the guards avoided eye contact.

"Welcome to Blackridge," Ezra murmured, stepping off the train. "Let’s move."

The teams split immediately.

Ezra and Dravis walked straight toward the magistrate’s district, disappearing down a side alley lined with crooked houses and whispering shadows.

Kael’s clone silently trailed Marcus and Evelyne—though Marcus kept throwing glances over his shoulder like he felt something was following.

Meanwhile, the real Kael kept high above, his presence cloaked, watching Ezra’s path with narrowed eyes.

———————

After a short walk through the crowded streets of Blackridge, Ezra and Dravis stopped at the base of a tall, grey stone building with rigid, symmetrical architecture. Dozens of armored guards in enchanted gear stood at the entrance and perimeter, their eyes sharp beneath visored helms.

Above the heavy doors, etched into the stone in glowing silver letters, was the title:

District Magistrate Office – Blackridge Region

People streamed in and out—merchants with scrolls, civilians with complaints, and civil officers guiding the flow with stern expressions and clipped orders. The building buzzed like a hive, disciplined yet tense.

Ezra stood silently for a moment, eyeing the structure. Then he turned to Dravis. "Let’s go."

Dravis followed but leaned in and whispered, "You really think the magistrate’s just going to give us information about Elia? From what I’ve heard, most border-town magistrates are ranked six or higher. Not exactly friendly."

Ezra gave a faint smirk. "I know. But don’t worry. I have a plan."

The two approached the gate, where a stern-looking guard immediately raised a halberd. "Halt. Identification."

Ezra calmly reached into his coat and produced a glowing hexagonal badge—the symbol of an officially registered Awakener. Dravis mirrored the motion.

The guard scanned both IDs with a glyph-embedded reader. A second later, the screen flashed VALID.

"You may proceed," the guard said, stepping aside.

As they stepped through the main entrance, they passed under a mana detector embedded in the archway. The device pulsed with a soft purple glow, calibrated to detect cursed energy and demonic infiltration. A relic of border-town paranoia, perhaps—but a necessary one.

Inside, the building was a controlled chaos of bureaucracy.

Dozens of citizens stood in lines, clutching parchment documents and shouting over each other. Civil officers moved quickly between desks. The air smelled of old ink, mana wax, and paperwork stress.

Armed guards stood watch at every corner. This wasn’t just an office—it was a fortress wrapped in protocol.

Ezra led Dravis toward the elevators. They stepped into a brass-lined lift powered by a humming mana engine, ascending to the first administrative floor.

There, at a reception desk surrounded by shelves of scrolls and flickering orb-lights, sat a bored-looking woman in uniform—currently playing a game on her mana tablet.

Ezra stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Hello, miss. I’d like to request an appointment with the District Magistrate."

Without looking up, she replied, "Do you have a pre-scheduled slot?"

Ezra smiled politely. "No, but we’ve come from Etherlight School of Awakeners. We’re conducting an investigation tied to an ongoing mission."

He held up his phone and displayed an official seal-stamped mission order.

At the mention of Etherlight, the woman blinked, finally putting her tablet down. Her posture straightened as she examined the document. Etherlight students were no ordinary visitors—reputation alone demanded respect.

And as she studied the two young men in front of her, she noticed something... off.

She read the names on the document.

Then froze.

"...Ezra Celestrian and... Dravis Morningstar?" she echoed.

Her eyes went wide. Recognition and fear flashed across her face in an instant.

Ezra, noticing, raised a hand reassuringly. "Ah, sorry for the confusion. I’m not related to that Celestrian. Just unfortunate name overlap."

Then he gestured toward Dravis with a small smirk. "But him? He’s the real Morningstar."

The woman’s heart visibly skipped a beat. She straightened quickly and bowed slightly. "I-I apologize for my tone, sirs. I’ll notify the Magistrate immediately. He’s currently in a meeting, but you may wait in the upper lounge. I’ll inform you once he’s available."

Ezra nodded. "Thank you. We’ll wait."

As they walked toward the lounge, Dravis glanced at Ezra out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t say anything aloud, but his thoughts churned.

Celestrian... That name was once carried by the Sword Emperor himself—the man who nearly brought peace to the entire continent by force alone.

But he never married. He had no heirs. Everyone knew he was an orphan raised by the sword, not blood.

So how could Ezra carry that name?

Dravis didn’t ask. And Ezra didn’t explain.

He asked. "So... what’s the plan?"

Ezra turned toward him with a faint glint in his eyes. "Your name."

Dravis blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. Morningstar. This city lies within the outer territories of your grandfather’s influence. That makes you royalty here, doesn’t it?"

Dravis groaned. "Ugh. I hate using his name."

Ezra smirked. "I’ll duel you ten times in a row if you prefer that."

Dravis paused, then suddenly brightened. "Deal."

Ezra chuckled. Easy bait.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Blackridge...

Lyria stood near a crowded street market, her mana phone in hand. She was moving from person to person, showing them the image of Elia.

"Excuse me, have you seen this person?" she asked politely, holding up the photo.

Most people shook their heads.

"Sorry, I just moved here," said one man with a delivery box in his arms.

"No idea. Try the eastern quarter," muttered another, clearly uninterested.

Lyria sighed, thanked them, and moved on. Behind her, Dalen was doing the same—calm, polite, asking quietly in his composed noble tone. But the answers were the same: No. Never seen her. Try someone else.

Lyria frowned. So many people, but no leads...

Feeling the dryness on her lips, she walked over to a small drink stand tucked between two buildings. A local vendor stood there, wiping a bottle and humming softly under his breath.

"One coldfruit soda, please," Lyria said, handing over a few silver coins.

As the vendor handed her the chilled bottle, he gave her a curious look.

"You’re not from around here, are you, ma’am?"

Lyria gave a small smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well," the man chuckled, "the way you talk, dress, and that mana phone in your hand—you’re either a noble or an awakener. What brings you to Blackridge?"

"I’m searching for someone." She showed him the image. "Have you seen her before?"

The vendor leaned in and studied the picture carefully. His eyes widened.

"Oh, this girl? Yeah—I’ve seen her!"

Lyria nearly dropped her drink. "Wait—what?!"

He nodded, a bit surprised by her reaction. "Yeah, she comes here often. Buys groceries in bulk. I don’t know her name, but she once mentioned she works at a school. Seemed quiet, polite."

"You’re serious?" Lyria asked quickly, leaning in. "Please, tell me everything!"

At that exact moment, Dalen arrived from around the corner, his expression neutral.

"What’s going on?" he asked.

Lyria turned to him, eyes wide with urgency. "This vendor says he’s seen her—the girl we’re looking for! Says she shops here often and might be working at a school nearby."

Dalen immediately turned to the vendor. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely, sir. I’ve seen her at least five or six times. Always alone. She wears a black shawl and sometimes glasses. Same face."

Dalen nodded. He pulled out his mana glyph communicator and contacted Marcus.

"Marcus, we’ve got something. A vendor just confirmed sightings of Elia Seraphine—she’s been buying supplies here regularly. He says she might be teaching at a school."

Marcus’s voice crackled through. "You sure?"

"Positive," Dalen replied.

Lyria turned to the vendor again. "How many schools are there in Blackridge?"

The vendor scratched his chin. "For awakeners? About ten. All high schools—funded by the territory lords."

Lyria exchanged a look with Dalen. "That narrows it down." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

"I’ve already messaged Ezra," Dalen said. "He’ll know what to do next."

Lyria nodded. "Then tell Marcus to start checking the awakener schools. We’ll head that way too."

They paid for the drink, thanked the vendor, and moved swiftly down the street, vanishing into the city crowd like a breeze cutting through the heat.

Elsewhere in Blackridge...

Marcus leaned against a stone fence, arms crossed, watching the street with a bored look.

Next to him, Evelyne sat quietly, tapping through her spell interface.

"You know," she said, not looking up, "this mission feels more like a boring date."

Marcus smirked. "You think I’d take you here for a real date?"

"Oh? Then what does a real Marcus date look like?"

"Somewhere with candles. Maybe music. Something fancy. You like roses?"

Evelyne gave a soft laugh. "You’re such a flirt."

"And you never complain."

Just then, Marcus’s mana phone buzzed. He checked the message and stood up.

"Change of plans. Lyria found a lead. We’re heading to one of the schools."

Evelyne stood beside him. "Finally. Something to do."

Marcus glanced at her. "You ready?"

Evelyne stepped closer with a small smile. "With you? Always."

They started walking together, quietly falling into step.

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