Chapter 250 (Patreon)

Kana allowed herself a small, weak smile as the azure stones disappeared one by one into her [Inventory], the faint shimmer of their surface fading as though swallowed by a silent tide that only she could command. They were not particularly large, nor did they seem impressive at first glance, yet she could not shake the feeling that they carried a certain gravity to them. Not physical weight, but consequence. The kind that did not press on the hands, but on the future. It felt as though she had just taken something that might one day tilt a battlefield, or collapse a plan carefully laid by someone far more powerful than herself, and tucked it away under the quiet label of I will deal with this later.

They pressed forward into the depths of the mountain.

The change announced itself first through the air. The scent of sweat, ore, and damp earth that had clung stubbornly to the mining tunnels began to thin, replaced instead by the faint, sterile tang of polished stone and oil used to maintain mechanisms unseen. The jagged, uneven walls that once looked as though they had been clawed open by desperate labor gradually smoothed into clean surfaces, carved with precision. Rough rock surrendered to marble. The uneven ground flattened into a paved corridor, torches mounted at equal intervals along the walls as if someone had measured the darkness and decided it should behave in orderly fashion.

This was no longer a mine carved out of necessity and suffering. This was architecture built purely for luxury.

Lex’s pace slowed, not out of fear, but caution. His gaze sharpened as he took in the symmetry, the craftsmanship, the quiet message embedded in stone. “Let me warn you,” he said, his voice low but firm enough to carry to the students behind him. “Some of us may be placed in considerable danger. Raiding something owned by the empire rarely concludes in a simple or clean manner.”

Suri glanced sideways at him, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and mild annoyance. “Meaning?” she asked, clearly unwilling to accept half of a warning.

“It’s confidential,” Lex replied after a brief pause, as though the rest of the explanation had been carefully sealed behind a door he had no intention of opening.

She clicked her tongue softly. “Suspense as a leadership strategy. That’s certainly one way to build morale, Sir.”

Lex did not react with her response.

Ahead, the corridor widened slightly at an intersection where two guards stood posted. Their armor was maintained well enough to catch the torchlight in dull glints, and though their stance appeared relaxed, there was discipline in the way their hands hovered near their weapons. One of them turned slightly at the sound of approaching footsteps, his lips parting as if to issue a challenge or demand identification.

Kana moved—

There was no signal. No warning to her companions. No dramatic tightening of muscles that might have announced her intent.

She stepped forward, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to hesitate.

Her curved sword slid free of its sheath in a single fluid motion, the faint metallic whisper almost lost beneath the crackle of torches. The blade traced a silver arc through the air, so clean and precise that it resembled a stroke of light painted across darkness.

Then it was over.

The two guards remained upright for the smallest fraction of a second, confusion flickering across their faces as if their minds had yet to inform their bodies of what had occurred. Gravity, patient and impartial, completed the rest.

Their heads separated cleanly from their shoulders and fell.

A muted thud echoed down the polished corridor.

Several of the students flinched, not because they had never seen death before, but because they had not seen Kana move. Artin’s hand twitched toward his weapon, a reflex born from training, though he had nothing to defend against. They had fought alongside Kana. They had watched her train. They believed they understood her limits.

They did not.

Boris alone managed to follow something of the strike, though even he knew he had traced more instinct than motion. His eyes narrowed, studying the aftermath rather than the act itself. The foot placement. The angle of her shoulders. The absence of wasted movement. It was efficient in a way that suggested repetition, discipline, and an intimacy with violence that unsettled him more than the blood pooling on marble. He was curious when did Kana learn those moves even considering for a moment reading tons of books.

He knew weapons. He respected precision. And he understood with uncomfortable clarity that he would not have reacted in time even if he knew Kana was coming.

Perched atop his head, Thorne the small lizard had gone completely still, her eyes wide and unblinking. She did not track the falling bodies. She did not flinch at the sound. Her gaze remained fixed on Kana, as if recognizing something ancient and predatory that transcended rank, class, or lvl.

Kana stood between the fallen guards, her posture relaxed but balanced, blade already lowered. There was no dramatic exhale, no trembling in her grip, no visible sign of exertion. It might have been a practice swing in an empty courtyard rather than the swift execution of two trained fighters.

Lex recovered first, he knelt beside one of the bodies and began searching with the efficiency of someone accustomed to gleaning information from the dead. From one pocket, he retrieved a small iron key. From another, a copper badge engraved with an insignia that caught the torchlight in muted shine. The second body yielded a bronze badge.

His expression shifted, tightening slightly.

“Two copper badge holders,” Lex said, his voice more measured now. “Certified copper-class adventurers.”

The words settled heavily in the corridor.

The copper class adventurer was not decorative. It meant they had survived contracts that killed lesser fighters and monsters. It meant experience, discipline, and a degree of skill that separated professionals from amateurs.

“They may no longer be active,” Lex added after a moment. “Possibly working as mercenaries.”

Which meant they had chosen this position.

The silence that followed was different from the earlier shock.  Kana had cut down two certified copper adventurers in a single, unbroken motion.

Without struggle.

Without hesitation.

Even Lex, who had moments ago cautioned them about imperial consequences, found his thoughts shifting. The empire was dangerous. Its secrets were layered and protected.

But standing in the middle of this polished corridor was something equally difficult to measure.

Kana slid her curved sword back into its sheath with a soft, definitive click that seemed far louder in the quiet.

“They were in the way,” she said simply.

No triumph colored her voice. No regret.

And somewhere deeper within the mountain’s carefully carved halls, beyond marble and torchlight and hidden intentions, something waited. Whether it recognized the approach of imperial enemies or the arrival of a girl who moved faster than trained season adventurers could perceive, even the stone itself seemed to hold its breath.

…

Lex placed his palm against the polished surface of the door and pushed it open with careful restraint, as though expecting resistance or a hidden mechanism to protest his intrusion. The hinges gave way with only the faintest murmur, revealing a slab of wood so finely crafted that it seemed designed to be admired rather than to endure siege or assault. Its surface bore delicate carvings that twisted in elegant patterns, more suited to the halls of nobility than to the depths of a mountain carved for labor and secrecy.

Beyond the threshold, the room unfolded in unexpected contrast to the bloodstained corridors behind them.

It was empty of people, yet not empty of presence.

Low tables were arranged across a thick woven carpet dyed in deep crimson and gold, their surfaces cluttered with half-finished plates of sugared pastries, dried fruits, and roasted meats glistening faintly in the torchlight. Crystal cups rested on their sides, one still holding a shallow pool of wine that reflected the ceiling in distorted miniature. Someone had been comfortable here. Recently.

At the far end of the only room in the mountain cave, a staircase spiraled upward, its railing forged from dark metal polished smooth by frequent use. It rose toward a second level that disappeared into shadow, promising answers or danger or perhaps both.

Leo stepped inside first, turning slowly as his gaze swept across the furnishings with widening eyes. “This looks excessively luxurious,” he murmured, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious chamber. “Even replicas of artwork displayed like this would cost a fortune, and these frames alone could feed a small village for months.”

Andel drifted toward one of the walls, his earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten as curiosity took hold. He leaned closer to a framed painting, studying the texture of the canvas and the layering of pigment beneath the varnish. “I agree,” he said thoughtfully. “The craftsmanship here is not casual decoration. Whoever arranged this room understands the value.”

Suri stepped past them with a casual air that felt almost theatrical, her eyes moving from piece to piece with quiet certainty. “No,” she said, her tone light but unwavering. “They’re not replicas. Every single one of these is genuine.”

The room seemed to still for a fraction of a second.

Several heads turned toward her in unison.

It was not cruelty that colored their expressions, but confusion. Suri, after all, was known for her effective illusion scouting, her sharp tongue, her instincts in the field. Not for art appraisal.

“What?” Suri asked, folding her arms as she noticed their collective stare. “You can tell just by looking at them.”

Leo blinked, then stepped closer to one of the paintings, squinting as though it might reveal its secrets if he stared long enough. “Can I take one down?” he asked, glancing toward Lex. “I want to examine it more closely.”

Lex considered the suggestion, his gaze shifting between the staircase and the walls, calculating risks even in moments of curiosity. “Why?” he asked, though not dismissively.

“I’m curious whether Suri is correct,” Leo replied, reaching carefully toward the edge of a frame without yet lifting it. “If these truly are originals, then either this place is more important than we assumed, or Suri possesses an unexpectedly refined eye for authenticity.”

Artin chimed in, “I share that curiosity. If we secure the area, we can collect them later.”

Boris grunted,”Look all the same to me. I’m not sure why these things fetch a very high price.”

Kana approached one of the paintings as well, tilting her head slightly as she studied the brushwork. Even with her heightened perception through [Night Awareness], she saw nothing beyond colors and form. There was nothing special, nothing really— no hidden signature glowing beneath the surface, no shift from her own heartbeat that might distinguish a masterpiece from imitation, not even a faintest mana.

“How did you know?” Kana asked quietly, genuine interest softening her voice.

Suri stepped beside her and gestured subtly toward a landscape painting where light seemed to bend gently across a river’s surface. “Look at the brush strokes,” she began. “They’re too—”

Her words halted mid-thought.

For a fleeting instant, something passed across her expression. 

She remembered the way Kana drew all of a sudden, how Kana’s lines were sometimes too deliberate, too forceful, as if pressing certainty into the page. She remembered teasing her about it.

Suri cleared her throat lightly.

“Forget it,” she said instead, stepping back with a small shake of her head. “It’s just obvious.”

Kana continued to stare at the painting for another moment, sensing that the unfinished explanation lingered between them like an unspoken footnote.

Behind them, the staircase waited in silence, its shadow stretching downward across polished marble, as if reminding them that whatever wealth decorated these walls was merely the surface of something far more deliberate.

Post note:

Kana should consider taking the artwork class in her second year… 😂Have a great weekend!Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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