Knock. Knock. Knock.
The crisp sound echoed through the night.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Time slipped by, yet the door showed no sign of opening.
Unwilling to give up, Nia raised her hand and knocked again, harder this time. The door suddenly creaked open on its own.
Zayne never had the habit of locking his door. There was nothing inside worth stealing. A thief would probably feel bad enough to leave a couple hundred behind before walking away.
"Shadowcaster? Are you home?"
Startled by the door opening, Nia lowered her voice and asked cautiously. The empty room gave her no reply.
"Shadowcaster… I'm coming in."
Summoning her courage, Nia stepped inside Zayne's home.
The room was painfully bare. A darkened wooden table. A chair with only three legs. An iron bed frame. A set of sheets and a pillow so washed out they had almost lost their color.
There was nothing else.
Nia looked around again, taking in the bleak surroundings, and her lips pressed together. Her eyes slowly reddened.
"So this is how Shadowcaster grew up…"
"No wonder he carries that distant coldness, like he keeps everyone at arm's length. He must have suffered so much."
"And yet, when I was in danger, he still stepped forward without hesitation."
"He lives in darkness, but his heart still turns toward the light."
Her chest tightened with sympathy. She became even more convinced that Shadowcaster must have killed out of necessity.
Someone so kind, someone who remained untainted despite his circumstances, could never kill without reason.
...
Zayne had no idea that Nia had unknowingly shielded him from a looming disaster. He had no idea how close his identity as Shadowcaster had come to being exposed.
If he had not coincidentally moved into the Ward family estate, he would have run straight into her.
At this moment, Zayne was immersed in the joy of his newly acquired equipment. With this full set, his combat strength had increased by at least twice, if not more.
He was itching to find somewhere to test it out. Unfortunately, with the city sealed off, neither dungeons nor the wilderness were accessible.
"Hey, I know a place where you can test your new gear," Francis suddenly said after hearing his complaint.
"Where?" Zayne asked immediately.
"The Adventurers Guild," Francis replied. "They have specialized training rooms for real combat practice."
With Francis explaining along the way, Zayne finally understood what the Adventurers Guild actually was.
The guild was an official organization established by the Alliance, with branches in every human city.
It handled material trading, equipment sales, quest distribution, combat training, and more, all under one roof. A place built entirely to serve adventurers.
The moment Zayne heard about real combat training, he could not sit still. He immediately had Francis turn the car around and head for the guild.
The Adventurers Guild stood near the city gate of Old Shipyard Port. As soon as the two of them stepped inside, a receptionist in black stockings approached them with a practiced smile.
"Good evening. Are you here for combat training?"
"Not me," Francis waved his hands quickly. "It's for my boss."
"Understood. May I ask your level?" she said, turning to Zayne.
Zayne revealed his level. When the receptionist saw that he was level sixteen, her smile grew even sweeter.
"Very well. I will arrange a training room suitable for adventurers under level twenty. The price is one hundred thousand dollars per hour."
Zayne clicked his tongue. One hundred thousand an hour? Being an adventurer really burned money. Thankfully, he had Francis.
"Can you arrange one suitable for under level forty instead?" Zayne asked.
The receptionist froze for a moment, then quickly nodded.
"Of course. However, training rooms rated for under level forty cost six hundred thousand dollars per hour."
"That's fine. Under forty it is," Zayne said calmly.
The receptionist had no idea why a level sixteen adventurer would need such a high tier room, but since he could afford it, her job was simply to arrange it. She walked off briskly in her heels.
A short while later, she returned holding a card.
"Your training room is ready. Please follow me."
"You should wait outside," Zayne said to Francis. "I don't want to accidentally hurt you."
Francis immediately recalled the time Zayne nearly struck him with Worldbane Thunderfall and shuddered.
"Boss, yeah, I'll wait outside. You go ahead."
Zayne nodded and followed the receptionist inside.
The training room was vast, nearly the size of a basketball court. A row of humanoid training dummies stood in the center.
According to the receptionist, the room was built with special materials by an SS grade builder and could withstand full power attacks from adventurers under level forty.
The same applied to the dummies. Even leaving a mark on them was difficult for anyone below level forty.
"Would you like a sparring partner?" the receptionist asked.
"No. I want to be alone," Zayne replied. He had no intention of letting anyone witness him going all out.
"Understood. Enjoy your training."
She closed the door behind her.
Zayne walked over, locked the door, then carefully checked the entire room. Only after confirming there were no surveillance devices did he relax and draw Starfall Skytrace.
"Sacrificial Blade Technique. One year of lifespan per strike."
"Let's start with a hundred slashes."
"Forbidden Spell. Infernal Overdrive."
"Forbidden Spell. Sacrificial Blade Technique."
Zayne took a deep breath and tightened his grip on Starfall Skytrace. In an instant, he entered a strange, profound state. His gaze grew sharp and unwavering.
He swung.
The first slash tore through the air, a deafening boom erupting inside the training room as if something fundamental had been ripped apart.
A brilliant light flared along the blade of Starfall Skytrace.
That light was Zayne's lifespan, burning.