The carriage doors opened.
Markil stepped out into the bustling streets of Solara. The sun was bright, but the atmosphere was heavy.
Elrond, Kalman, Amreth, Alith, and Arwen stepped out behind him.
The street went silent.
People stopped walking. Humans, dwarves, and even the few enslaved elves paused to stare.
"Hey, look," a human merchant whispered, nudging his partner. "Elves. And not just slaves... look at their armor. Those are High-Ranked Knights from the Silver Spires."
"Yeah," the partner muttered, eyes wide. "But look at the guy in the middle. The one in the mask. He's human."
"A human walking as an equal with the Elven Elites? I haven't seen something like this before."
Markil felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him. He adjusted his mask.
"Don't think about them," Elrond said quietly, walking beside him. "They are just curious. To them, we are usually either enemies or property."
Markil smiled behind his mask. "Got it. Just smile and wave, boys."
As they walked away from the carriages, Markil looked back.
"Hey," Markil asked. "Where are the others? The A-Rank knights?"
Only the Special Grade team was walking. The thirty-nine A-Rank soldiers were staying behind near the carriages.
"Go," Elrond ordered the soldiers with a hand signal. "Wait for the signal."
Markil looked at Amreth. "Hey, Greenie. Why are they leaving? Aren't we a team?"
Amreth chuckled. "You will see, boy. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Or in this case, too many knights spoil the stealth."
They walked through the city. The deeper they went, the darker the streets became. The luxurious shops were replaced by run-down taverns and shady alleys.
Finally, they stopped in a dead-end street. There was no one around. Just garbage and silence.
"So, it's here," Amreth said.
He knelt down and placed his hand on a dirty cobblestone.
HUMMM.
A green magic circle expanded on the ground, glowing with complex runes.
"Ground Displacement Magic," Amreth announced.
ZAP.
Markil's stomach did a flip.
"What the—"
The world twisted. The sunlight vanished.
The Underground Hideout
POP.
They appeared in a dimly lit room.
It smelled of cheap ale and expensive perfume.
Markil looked around. There were no windows. No doors. Just stone walls and magical lamps floating in the air.
"How the fuck did we get here?" Markil asked, checking his limbs. "Teleportation?"
"Ground Warp," Amreth corrected, dusting off his hands. "It's really hard magic to do. Moves us directly beneath where we were standing. Great for avoiding door fees."
Markil looked at the room. It was a bar. A secret, underground bar.
Two female elves were sitting at a table, drinking wine. They wore leather armor—rogues.
One of them, a blonde elf named Narlen, looked up.
"Hey," Narlen smirked, swirling her glass. "Sir Elrond. Want a drink?"
Elrond looked at her with cold eyes.
"Sorry, Narlen. But I don't drink on the job."
The other elf, a redhead named Senron, narrowed her eyes. She pointed a dagger at Markil.
"Boss," Senron said, her voice sharp. "You didn't tell us you would come with a human."
She licked her lips.
"Do we have to torture him? Extract information? I have a new pair of pliers I want to try."
Markil made a confused, funny face behind his mask.
Ooo, again with the racism? Can't a guy catch a break?
"No," a deep voice rumbled.
Kalman stepped forward. He glared at Senron.
"I was thinking exactly how you thought," Kalman grumbled, crossing his arms. "I wanted to gut him myself."
Kalman looked at Markil, then back to the girls.
"But we don't have to do that to this human."
Kalman gave Markil a death stare that clearly said 'I still hate you'.
"He is going to work with us."
Senron blinked, confused. She slowly lowered her dagger.
"Okay, Boss... if you say so."
Markil exhaled. Thanks, Scarface. I knew you cared.
Markil looked around the room again.
"Wait a minute," Markil muttered. "We are underground. No windows. No doors."
"Where is the oxygen coming from?"
He looked at the corners of the ceiling. It was dark.
I need to see.
Markil concentrated.
"Kareno."
VWOOOM.
His pupils vanished. His eyes exploded with a complex, rotating geometric pattern of purple and white light. The Eyes of Balor activated.
The room turned into a grid of data.
Target: Ventilation.
Analysis: Micro-runes embedded in the stone. Converting mana into breathable air.
Structure: Unbreakable.
"Wow," Markil whispered. "That's high-tier engineering."
Suddenly, the room went silent.
"Markil," Elrond's voice was sharp.
Markil snapped out of it. He blinked rapidly, deactivating the eyes.
Elrond was staring at him.
"How the..." Elrond frowned. "What is with your eyes? That wasn't normal mana vision."
Markil rubbed his eyes, feigning innocence.
"It's nothing! Just a... ah... contacts lens issue? Dust? I don't know, my eyes get weird in the dark."
Elrond gave him a sharp, suspicious look.
"Whatever," Elrond sighed. "But somehow... I know you won't betray us."
"Captain," Kalman interjected. "You shouldn't believe a human like this. You know how humans are. Don't say such things."
Elrond walked over to a velvet sofa and sat down, crossing his legs.
"I know you human," Elrond said to Kalman. "And you also know a human who is trustworthy."
Elrond smiled. A nostalgic smile.
"He retired recently. He was also called the Strongest Person in the Whole World."
"You know him, right?"
Elrond looked at the ceiling.
"He trained you, Kalman. Even though you were an Elf. He trained me. He trained Sasha. He trained Roric."
Markil's ears perked up.
The Strongest? Who trained the SSS+ Ranks?
"He made them strong," Elrond continued. "But currently... he retired from his Knight job."
Elrond's smile turned into a smirk.
"And now, I guess... he is just eating and peeping into women's bathrooms."
"That was a Master," Elrond chuckled. "But he was kind of a pervert."
Kalman sighed, shaking his head. "But Captain... he is not like him. That man is a god among insects."
"He taught us in our Kingdom," Kalman explained to Markil. "Not in the human kingdoms. Without him, we would be weak. He traveled between nations effortlessly."
"How?" Markil asked. "How did he train all of you? Is he that fast? Does he run like the Flash?"
Arwen, who was leaning against the bar, spoke up.
"He knows Teleportation Magic," Arwen said, her eyes shining with admiration.
"Not just the blinking kind. He has Global Teleportation."
"He can go anywhere in the world by just thinking about it. Even the Kings compare him to the old strongest of this world—Regis Alaric and Cyrus Scepter."
"But he doesn't use the Dark or Thunder elements," Arwen added.
"He is alive. And he is just so young."
"He is only 29 years old."
Markil sat on the armrest of the sofa.
"29?" Markil asked. "Is that the retirement age for the strongest? Did he get bored?"
"He wasn't about to retire," Kalman grunted. "But he did. He signed a resignation letter to the World Council and vanished."
Markil frowned.
"By the way... if he likes the Elves and the Humans both... why doesn't he just finish this war? Why doesn't he stop the slavery?"
Elrond looked at Markil. His face became serious.
"Because, you see," Elrond said softly. "We Elves are still alive because of Our Master."
"His name is Maren Walberd."
"We are still alive because he is alive."
Elrond leaned forward.
"Both Sasha and Roric know that they can't defeat him. No King, no Emperor, no Demon dares to push too far."
"He is the deterrent," Elrond explained. "Think like this: If Maren Walberd wasn't alive... the humans would have killed us so far back. Our species must have ended ages ago."
"He doesn't fight the war for us," Elrond said. "He prevents the genocide."
Markil looked at the table, processing this.
So... there is a guy named Maren Walberd.
A human. A pervert. A teacher.
And he holds the balance of the entire world on his shoulders just by breathing.
"So is he that powerful?" Markil thought. "Stronger than me?"
"So where is he now?" Markil asked aloud.
Alith shook her head. "No one knows. He is a ghost."
The mood in the room was heavy with the legend of the unseen master.
"Alright," Amreth clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "Enough history class."
He plopped down on the sofa next to Elrond.
Markil sat on the other side. The others sat on chairs or the floor.
Narlen and Senron brought out trays of food.
"Here," Senron said, slamming a basket of bread and butter on the table. "Eat up. We have work to do tonight."
Markil took a piece of bread.
Maren Walberd, Markil thought, biting into the crust. I have a feeling... I'm going to meet this pervert someday.
(Chapter 30 Finished)