Chương 12: VOLUME 1 INTERLUDE: BROKEN OATHS

The afternoon sun over Mizugaon was swallowed by a sudden, heavy blanket of slate-grey storm clouds, casting the outer commercial plaza into a premature, damp twilight. Inside the main hall of the Hunter Guild, the usual chaotic roar of clinking ale mugs, boisterous mercenary boasts, and clattering copper tokens had settled into a quiet, late-day rhythm. Clerks flicked through parchment manifests, and low-tier rookies huddled near the copper notice boards, counting their daily scraps.

Suddenly, the heavy iron-reinforced front doors of the guild storefront were violently thrown open with a loud, resounding crash. The sound shattered the ambient chatter instantly. Every head in the hall snapped toward the threshold. A high-tier adventurer scout, dressed in grimy, mud-splattered leather armor, stumbled into the light of the grease-lamps. His chest was heaving violently, his lungs gasping for air as if he had ridden his mount to the absolute point of cardiovascular collapse.

His face was completely drained of color, frozen in a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. He didn't check the ledger. He didn't park his gear. He sprinted straight toward the central administrative counter, his mud-crusted boots slamming heavily against the wooden floorboards.

"Guildmaster!" the scout shrieked, his voice cracking into a frantic, out-of-breath scream that echoed off the high timber pillars of the ceiling.

"Where is Guildmaster Ozu?! Get the Commander! Someone get the Commander right now!" Before the main desk receptionist could even respond, the heavy cedar-wood door of the private sanctuary clicked open. Guildmaster Ozu stepped out onto the elevated marble terrace, his slate-grey eyes instantly locking onto the frantic scout. His sharp, structured indigo Haori coat rustled as his posture stiffened.

Right behind him, Jax and Kiran, who had been waiting to finalize their party's weekly logistics ledger, stepped into the light of the corridor.

"Report, Vanguard," Ozu commanded, his gravelly voice carrying the heavy, resonant mana pressure of a veteran administrator.

"Control your breathing. What happened on the border road?" The scout dropped to both knees right in front of the marble steps, his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold his grip on a velvet pouch caked in dried crimson blood.

"The road... the northern border track leading toward the ridge of Shin-Varanasi," the scout frantically choked out, his throat dry.

"I was returning from a routine scouting perimeter block near the volcanic rift. I found a carriage... an upside-down merchant horse cart. Smashed to absolute splinters." Jax's massive iron frame instantly tensed, his hand dropping straight onto the hilt of his greatsword. Kiran stepped forward, her bright eyes widening as her breath hitched slightly in her throat.

"A merchant cart?" Ozu muttered, his brow furrowing as a sudden, terrible premonition flashed across his wrinkled face.

"The family cart of Devoken?"

"Yes!" the scout cried out, lifting the blood-stained velvet pouch with trembling fingers.

"It was a total slaughterhouse, sir! Devoken... his body was found drenched in blood on the dirt, his throat completely slit from ear to ear by a rusty skinning blade. And his wife, Radhami... she was stabbed straight through the thoracic wall, her linen vest violently torn to shreds. There were clear, unmistakable signs of an elite, high-level struggle on the rocky gravel. The deep wheel tracks, the black smoke residue... it wasn't common mountain bandits."

"What about the boy?" Kiran screamed, her voice breaking into a sharp, desperate panic as she lunged down the steps, her fingers violently grabbing the scout's leather spaulder.

"What about the independent healer, Shin?! Tell me he wasn't there! Tell me he escaped!" The scout slowly lowered his head, his teeth chattering in absolute horror as he opened the velvet pouch. He didn't just pull out a piece of clothing.

"We searched... we searched the entire perimeter area, Miss Kiran," the scout whispered, his voice cracking with a deep, sickening trauma.

"But there was no body. Near the edge of the sheer drop, where the ground was blasted apart by high-tier skills, we found... we found a severed human left leg, covered in tattered hemp cloth and shredded steel scales. There was a massive, terrifying pool of dark crimson blood staining the rocks. It was a complete biological detachment. But the rest of him... it was like he disappeared into thin air." Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Kiran froze, the words striking her mind like physical lightning.

"And the two children?!" Ozu demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, unstable register as he stepped down the terrace.

"Devoken's boys! Where are they?!"

"Gone!" the scout wept, shaking his head frantically.

"Vanished without a single trace! There are no tracks, no dragging marks, no other bodies! Just that severed leg, a sea of blood at the edge of the ravine, and emptiness! It's like the shadows swallowed them whole before jumping into the abyss!"

"No... no, this can't be happening," Kiran whimpered, her hands flying to her mouth as her knees completely buckled. She collapsed heavily onto the stone steps, staring at the stained velvet pouch in absolute, paralyzed disbelief. Hot, violent tears streamed down her flushed face as she clutched her own chest.

"Shin... he saved me... he was just a fifteen-year-old kid... he didn't deserve to be torn apart like this..." Jax let out a primal, guttural growl, his massive frame trembling with a volatile mix of raw grief and explosive fury. He stepped past his weeping sister, his heavy iron boots cracking against the marble as he marched straight into Guildmaster Ozu's personal space. His face was completely flushed, his teeth bared like a wounded beast. Thud!

Jax's massive, iron-gauntleted hand slammed violently onto the mahogany banister right in front of Ozu's face, the sheer physical force causing the nearby grease-lamps to flicker wildly.

"You killed him, old man!" Jax roared, his voice cracking with a raw, unfiltered rage that shook the entire silent guild hall. Every mercenary in the room froze, staring in terror at the Level 5 Vanguard commanding the S-rank veteran.

"You knew the Howling Shadow was tracking him! You knew those merciless beasts were crawling through our alleys! But instead of shielding him with the entire strength of the Iron Aegis, you packed him into a cheap peasant cart and sent a fifteen-year-old kid to face the reapers alone! His life debt belonged to me... and you let them butcher him!" Guildmaster Ozu didn't blink. He didn't unleash his mana to crush the insolent commoner.

He just stood there, staring blankly down at the floorboards, his slate-grey eyes completely hollow. The realization struck his veteran brain like a physical sledgehammer. His calculated administrative escape plan—the one meant to throw off the royal spies—had sent the most brilliant medical prodigy this world had ever seen straight into a horrific, limb-tearing meat grinder. Slowly, Ozu raised his trembling, wrinkled hands.

He reached up to his shoulders and deliberately unbuckled the brass runic pins holding his structured, indigo Haori coat. He slid the fine garment off his frame, folding it precisely before placing it gently onto the administrative counter.

"The seal of the district office is on the desk," Ozu murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rumble weighed down by a crushing, terminal guilt.

"I have run these networks with an iron fist for twenty years. But today, my administrative arrogance slaughtered an innocent soul who saved our people. I am no longer fit to hold the ledger of Mizugaon. I resign, effective immediately."

"Ozu, pick up that coat," a heavy, commanding voice boomed from the shadows of the rear corridor. Lord Kaelen Ryuma stepped into the hall, his spine straight, his ash-grey skin completely restored to a healthy, natural flush thanks to the emergency micro-cellular surgery Rudra had performed on his liver hours prior. Standing right behind him was Master Harukant, his fingers holding a fresh parchment, and Commander Vikrama-Zin, whose silver-plated armor clanked heavily as he stepped forward.

"Lord Kaelen..." Ozu whispered, his head lowering.

"You will not abandon your responsibilities to this district while the reapers are dancing on my borders, old friend," Lord Kaelen declared, his voice carrying the absolute, unyielding authority of the manor's seat. He walked to the counter, picked up the indigo Haori, and forcefully draped it back over the old Guildmaster's shoulders.

"The boy saved my life. He exposed the treason of my own bloodline, and he stabilized this estate when my own alchemists were failing. His loss is a stain on the honor of the Ryuma manor." Lord Kaelen turned his sharp, icy gaze toward Commander Vikrama-Zin, his knuckles whitening against his golden cane.

"Commander Vikrama-Zin," Lord Kaelen ordered, his tone dropping into a chillingly calm, heavy register.

"Assemble your finest elite vanguard unit. You ride out at midnight for the capital, Indra-Kyoto."

"My Lord?" Vikrama-Zin bowed, his hand locking onto his hilt.

"You will carry an official, high-priority territorial petition stamped with my personal blood-seal straight to the Court," Lord Kaelen rumbled, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, dark intensity.

"The Howling Shadow has breached territorial law within my domain. They have slaughtered my citizens, and they have taken the life of my personal savior. If the Crown refuses to deploy the Royal Vanguard to hunt these beasts down, I will march my own army into the gates of hell to pull their heads from their shoulders. Move!"

"By your command, my Lord!" Vikrama-Zin shouted, turning on his heel as his silver armor clanked loudly against the exit gates. In the back of the hall, Kiran slowly stood up, her fingers tightly clutching the blood-stained charcoal scrap of the cloak that she had picked up from the floorboards. She looked at Jax, her voice dead silent, but her eyes burning with an unyielding, cold determination.

Three days later, the town of Mizugaon held a solemn, highly respected empty-casket burial for the independent auxiliary named Shin. The entire commoner market district closed their stalls, dropping white lotus petals into an empty wooden coffin as it was lowered into the earth, burying his recovered left leg with the highest military honors of the manor. They believed their savior was dead, mutilated and destroyed at the edge of the forbidden ravine.

They had no idea that far below the dirt, at the very bottom of the pitch-black Kage-Varanasi Abyss, a faint, luminescent gold-blue light was pulsing inside a hidden subterranean cavern—and the real operation was just about to begin.