Chapter 14:
Fallen Sins: From Hero To Calamity
The captain of the ship—the scarred man—had introduced himself simply as Michael. He informed the passengers that the voyage would take at least thirty days, a remarkable speed compared to normal boats, which would take around ninety.
Now, on the thirtieth day, they were just a few hours away from reaching the Dark Continent.
Leonhardt noticed that the closer they drew to their destination, the colder it became. Snowflakes began to fall gently from a sky hidden behind layers of dark clouds.
He raised his hand, drawing the attention of a servant. She was one of the four attendants who served meals and tended to their needs.
She walked over with a calm expression. “Sir, how may I help you?”
“I’d like a cup of summer herb tea,” Leonhardt said.
“Certainly. I’ll prepare it right away,” she replied, bowing slightly before walking toward the back of the ship—likely where the kitchen was.
Leonhardt turned his gaze toward the window, silently watching the snowflakes drift past.
The past twenty nine days had been nothing but silence. No one spoke, not even those sitting directly across from each other.
Aside from the occasional snoring of the knights, or the mutterings of the man who clutched his strange case even in sleep, the silence was eerie—as if the ship carried ghosts.
The woman from the Fire Tower would sometimes hum a melody to herself. Nothing more.
Leonhardt sighed, his breath fogging the window as it clung to the glass.
He hadn’t come to the Dark Continent on a whim. His goal was clear: the second legendary Excalibur—<Asterisk>.
Said to be the heirloom of the Asteria royal family, <Asterisk> had been sealed away in stone by the last king before the kingdom’s ruin. The spell used was ancient, untranslatable by modern mages.
Leonhardt needed that sword.
<Asterisk>, the blade known as The Sleeping Star.
Every Excalibur possessed a unique ability. Arthur Von Celestial’s <Aurora>, for example, could mark a target with a shimmering halo. From the point of the mark, frost would gradually creep across the target’s body. However, if the sword touched the halo, the freezing effect would become instant, encasing the target in solid ice and shattering.
<Asterisk>, on the other hand, had the ability to absorb a portion of mana particles from anyone it killed—and transfer that energy directly to the user.
It was the key to solving Leonhardt’s current dilemma.
He had used the forbidden blood magic spell:
[<Dios Prana>]
And now, his body was falling apart. The pure mana particles rampaged through him, seeking escape. He didn’t have much time.
Leonhardt clenched his fist. His body already felt weaker.
“Sir, here’s your Summer Root Tea,” the attendant said, placing the porcelain cup before him with a soft smile. “Please enjoy.”
He nodded faintly. The cup was white, decorated with delicate red floral patterns. Just as the tea’s name implied, its color resembled the summer sun—rich gold.
Lifting his mask just enough to expose his mouth, Leonhardt raised the cup to his lips—but paused when he heard approaching footsteps.
The Fire Tower woman walked up to his table, smiling. She stopped just in front of it.
“May I join you? There’s something I want to discuss.”
Leonhardt didn’t respond. He simply took a sip of his tea. The taste was mellow, sweet, and minty.
“My... This is the first time someone’s ignored me,” she said, resting her chin in her hands. “My feelings are hurt.”
She peeked at him through her fingers, hoping for a reaction. Leonhardt remained unmoved—until—
“Ahem… Leo—”
Before she could finish, Leonhardt slammed the cup down, causing a few drops to splash onto the table.
All eyes in the ship turned to him.
“Oh dear…” the woman gasped, hand covering her mouth.
“Sit,” Leonhardt said coldly. His identity was already compromised, and he had nowhere to run.
She smiled sweetly, then giggled as she sat down across from him.
“You must really like that tea. You’ve been drinking it every day,” she said, glancing at his cup. “Now I’m curious about how it tastes…”
Raising her hand, she called over an attendant. “Can I please have the same tea he’s having?”
“Summer Root Tea. Certainly. Please wait a moment,” the attendant said and walked off.
“So that’s what it’s called,” the woman murmured.
Leonhardt glanced at her. “When did you figure out who I was?”
She smiled mysteriously. “It’s. A. Secret,” she whispered.
Leonhardt let out a soft sigh. So she wasn’t going to tell him.
“So?” he asked. “What now? Are you taking me back to Mother?”
The woman tilted her head playfully. “Hmm… should I?”
Leonhardt frowned behind his mask. What was she up to? She didn’t seem desperate to drag him back. So why approach him?
“I’m not going back,” Leonhardt said firmly, “Not until I finish my business on the Dark Continent.”
She giggled. “Business? That’s a funny word for a child to use. Isn’t your only business attending the academy?”
Leonhardt said nothing.
Soon, the attendant returned and placed a fresh cup of tea in front of the Fire Tower woman, then left.
She stared curiously at the cup’s golden hue. “My... I never imagined a tea that looked so much like the sun could exist.” Her eyes darkened, just for a second, and she muttered under her breath, “How ugly.”
“What?” Leonhardt asked.
“Nothing~” she replied sweetly.
Then she reached into her pocket and retrieved a small white orb that fit snugly in her palm. She placed it on the table and tapped it lightly.
It began to glow, and a pale beam shot upward, forming a semi-invisible dome around them.
“Do you know what this is called?” she asked, picking up her tea.
“No.”
She took a sip and smiled. “Oh my! I didn’t expect something that looks like sunlight to taste so good. I see why you like it.”
Placing the cup down, she continued, “It’s a Sound Manipulator. It blocks outside listeners. I didn’t expect I’d need it.”
She leaned in slightly, smiling. “Anyway, let me introduce myself. My name is Eleanoir Emberfrost—but just call me Noir.”
“I’m a Grandmage of the Fire Tower. And yes, as you already guessed, I was sent to bring you back to your mother.”
Her smile deepened.
“But… if you do me a favor, I’ll pretend I never saw you.”
Leonhardt took another sip of tea. The woman—no, Noir, Grandmage of the Fire Tower—was threatening him, all while wearing a bright smile.
A Grandmage outranked an Archmage. That meant she was stronger than his mother. Even though she was concealing her mana, Leonhardt could sense its density. It was terrifying.
To become a Grandmage, one had to create a unique spell—something only they could use.
Magic was like a book, and spells were its pages. For example:
Wind Magic had 25 lesser spells, 15 advanced, and 5 supreme.
Creating a unique spell meant fusing a lesser, advanced, and supreme spell into something entirely new.
It was incredibly difficult. Even mastering a single lesser spell was difficult.
Like trying to memorize a page of a book.
But for Leonhardt, thanks to his passive Nova Art—[Perfect Memory]—it was easy.
He had memorized every known wind, fire, water, earth, and blood spell. Yet even he hadn’t been able to craft a unique one.
And here she was—someone who had.
'What should I do?' Leonhardt thought, lowering his cup. 'If I run, she’ll catch me anyway.'
Noir waited patiently, her smile unwavering.
“Don’t worry. It’s not an unreasonable request,” she added.
Leonhardt sighed. “Fine. But there’s not much I can—”
His words stopped. His eyes widened behind the mask.
Noir’s expression twisted into something… hungry. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips curled in delight, like a snake preparing to strike.
“Let me have a taste of your blood,” she whispered, licking her upper lip. For a brief moment, her eyes flashed crimson, her pupils sharp and inhuman.
That was when Leonhardt realized—
The woman known as Eleanoir Emberfrost...
Was a Vampire.
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