Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Barging into Glasis Manor
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⚡ Strength+95
🛡️ Endurance+83
✨ Talent+91
💪 Technique+88
☠️ Calamity+87
Havel gazed at the now-familiar cascade of text.
The numbers kept climbing higher.
With them, his presence undoubtedly grew stronger as well.
Four digits were drawing ever closer.
No wonder the Tower kept trying to halt his ascent.
Endless power.
It was fundamentally different from strength gained through training and experience.
It was in that moment.
For the first time, the Calamity within him stirred.
The text scrolled once more.
This time, it was entirely different from before.
“The Whisperer?”
Doubt flickered in Havel’s eyes.
The Calamity inside him writhed of its own accord.
An unpleasant sensation.
“There’s something I don’t know.”
This situation where he kept absorbing Calamity.
Something was clearly unfolding behind the scenes.
“Don’t you dare act out on me.”
But Havel immediately suppressed the Calamity with sheer force.
He had no intention of letting it rampage freely.
Instead, one thing became clear.
The Calamity was deeply tied to entities like this Whisperer—
beings he didn’t yet know about.
“Tch. What the hell does the Demonic Palace want, anyway?”
As Havel clicked his tongue, people appeared beyond the shattered wall.
The Meteor Knights were arriving late.
And among them was Dante.
With victory and defeat rendered meaningless anyway,
they had apparently decided to come together.
Crack!
In the meantime, debris poured from the spot where the Frost Castle Lord had crumbled.
The 4th Hierarchy was truly cleared.
The friendly match between Banpellyon and Glasis.
This bout had recently become the talk of the town.
The reason was simple.
Banpellyon had emerged victorious.
“Banpellyon—you mean the...”
“Yeah, the place with that super rookie, Dante.”
Banpellyon’s name had already been buzzing.
For them to beat Glasis only amplified the hype.
Naturally, word spread like wildfire.
But that wasn’t all.
“I heard Dratein got exiled.”
“Yeah, he admitted to pulling some dirty tricks during the match.”
In the midst of the buzz,
Dratein had confessed to cheating for victory.
As a result, he’d been exiled from his family.
“And didn’t the 3rd Meteor Knight Squadron go support them too?”
“Right. But it was because of some weird symptoms in the Tower.”
“You mean the rumors about the Calamity breeds getting stronger lately?”
Thanks to all this, the two families were constantly on everyone’s lips.
For people bored with their daily routines, it was prime gossip fodder.
And among them, certain individuals were especially attuned to such news.
In a lavish tavern.
The lights were on, but only one table was occupied.
A man seated there glanced at the empty chairs.
“Dratein really got exiled, huh.”
He let out a disbelieving chuckle.
His gray hair was cropped so short his scalp showed, and his massive frame rippled with muscle.
A rugged, masculine face.
Penbola August, direct lineage of one of the Five Great Families’ August house.
“Is this Dante guy really that impressive?”
A red-haired man spoke up.
Short in stature but brimming with the most aura among them—Azaris Ignor, direct lineage of Ignor.
He propped his chin, intrigued.
“Don’t go starting fires the second you get there, you pyromaniac.”
“You think I’m crazy enough for that? I’m a good guy.”
Penbola reacted with exasperation.
“Good guy, my ass.”
True to his red mage archetype, Azaris had a hair-trigger temper.
The glint in his eyes confirmed his interest in Dante.
“Something’s gonna blow up soon.”
Penbola clicked his tongue.
But he didn’t stop Azaris.
Once he got smashed, they’d know Dante’s true strength.
“I didn’t like Dratein, but I didn’t expect him to crash this hard.”
Penbola eyed the empty seat again.
Dratein’s constant smugness had always grated.
But losing to a rookie? That didn’t sit well.
“Baria, anything from Graiza?”
The conversation turned to the man who’d been silent.
Jet-black long hair and violet eyes.
He looked up from under his hood.
Baria Graiza.
Direct lineage of Graiza.
“No idea.”
“You know something but playing dumb again. Always so secretive. So why isn’t Kabala here either?”
Kabala Kain.
Another no-show.
“Probably stargazing.”
Penbola sighed deeply at Azaris’s reply.
He’d gathered these fellow Five Great Families’ heirs for regular meetups.
But they were all too willful for it to mean much.
“With Dratein gone too, this won’t last long. Uniting the Five Great Families in my generation’s gonna be tough.”
Unlike his brute appearance, Penbola assessed situations shrewdly.
He favored politics over brawn.
Naturally, his attention turned to Dante.
“Banpellyon, huh. Time for fresh winds in the Five Great Families’ regime?”
Penbola didn’t believe the Five Great Families would rule forever.
New winds always blew.
“Especially now, with everything stagnating from their long reign.”
Such change was crucial.
The balance of power had held too steady for too long.
“Other families must be eyeing this chance.”
Everyone would try to ride that wave.
The question was whether you soared or got swept away.
“Might need to make the first move.”
Those who seized the new winds would rule the era.
The Five Great Families’ time wasn’t infinite.
Penbola smirked darkly to himself.
The era falls to those who move first.
Meanwhile, in the same situation,
Baria Graiza sank into quiet thought.
He vividly remembered that day.
Havel overwhelmingly crushing the 4th Hierarchy trial.
The one who’d spoken to Havel there was none other than Baria.
He’d pretended to be a Graiza herald out of curiosity about the friendly match and gone to the 4th Hierarchy.
“The way to deal with a disaster isn’t to confront it—it’s to avoid it.”
He’d called Havel a disaster.
The events of that day were still fresh in his mind.
“So what do they plan to do with the info I dug up?”
At the same time, doubt crept in.
Havel had let him go that day after asking him to find an item’s location.
Baria, not wanting trouble, had provided it immediately.
“What’s he scheming?”
Baria grimaced.
He knew exactly where that item was.
“Hm hm.”
Unlike the two racking their brains,
a carefree hum came from one side.
It was Azaris Ignor, the so-called pyromaniac.
“This’ll be fun. Wonder if the swordsman can fight well.”
With a few screws loose, he was already eager for a bout with Dante.
Thus, time passed as each harbored their own thoughts.
While the world buzzed with chatter,
Havel, at the story’s center, let out a yawn.
Maybe he’d spent too long in the Demonic Palace.
Strolling outside felt languid by default.
“Nice sunlight.”
Havel turned, basking in rays peeking through clouds.
Just then, Dante met his eyes with a tense expression.
“Um, Havel... are you really going in?”
“I told you. I’m here for an apology.”
Havel and Dante stood before a grand mansion.
Its opulent decor naturally intimidated onlookers.
And for good reason.
It was the Glasis family estate.
After clearing the 4th Hierarchy and descending the Tower,
once the debris was cleared, Havel headed straight here.
The friendly match hype was still fresh,
yet he approached Glasis without hesitation.
Dante swallowed hard.
He’d vowed to follow Havel anywhere.
But facing Glasis up close? Even he tensed.
Sure, the Meteor Knights had been humiliated by Havel.
Still, they were one of the world-dominating Five Great Families.
Their influence outside the Tower was immeasurable.
“Why so worried?”
Havel chuckled at Dante’s anxiety.
“I’m not here to demand an apology blindly.”
Even Havel wasn’t being reckless.
He had a plan.
“I’m using the apology demand to score something else.”
“Something else?”
“Big demands make the follow-ups seem small.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I’m after that item from the intel you brought last time.”
Dante blinked.
It was the info he’d gotten from that Graiza member in the 4th Hierarchy.
A few items were held by Glasis.
“You sure it’ll be okay?”
“Trust me.”
Havel stood before the mansion’s massive gate.
Towering walls scraped the sky,
and the gate evoked a fortress portcullis.
“What’s your business?”
A gatekeeper, suspicious of the pair, spoke up.
But instead of answering, Havel lifted his leg.
As the guard blinked in confusion at the odd move,
Havel kicked the gate down.
Boom!
The resounding crash flung the gates open like crumbling ruins.
The guard’s eyes bulged in shock.
Kicking down Glasis’s gate was absurd enough—
but shattering that massive steel with a single strike?
“Wh-what...”
The stunned guard was speechless.
He had no clue how to handle this.
Even Dante reeled from Havel’s sudden act.
But Havel remained unfazed.
Sometimes, sheer audacity was key.
“In negotiations, if you act like talks are pointless, they squirm more.”
Especially when you have to deal with them.
“You, gatekeeper.”
Havel called to the dazed man.
“Y-yes?”
He answered blankly through rising smoke.
“Banpellyon’s here for an apology. Fetch someone to guide us. Now.”
“B-Banpellyon!”
Realization hit the guard like lightning.
Banpellyon, most tied to Glasis in recent gossip.
Its stars had arrived.
The guard bolted inside frantically.
Havel strolled in calmly, hands behind his back.
“Dante, think you can play the spoiled brat?”
The least reasonable foes were always the arrogant heirs.
So Havel decided to play that role now.
And he’d done it plenty before.
The elderly head butler of Glasis.
He was in quite the bind.
This intruder who’d smashed the front gate and barged in.
The sight left him aghast.
Who dared wreck Glasis’s gates?
But the man was beyond expectations.
“Y-you two...”
“I’m not wasting words on some butler. Bring your master. Now.”
The butler paled.
He’d first sent soldiers, deeming it an intrusion.
But they’d all fallen to Havel.
Soldiers couldn’t stop him.
Then the knights fared no better.
The butler eyed the collapsed knights at the estate’s edge.
Their plate mail was all dented.
Havel’s fists had imprinted those dents.
His power was obvious.
“So you won’t apologize for your shameful deeds? Is that it?”
The butler panicked as Havel scowled.
This guy didn’t seem reasonable.
“G-go on, apologize...”
Dante muttered weakly from behind.
Unfortunately, Dante lacked talent for thuggery.
He gave his all to Havel’s requests,
but this was his limit.
Considering his usual demeanor, not fleeing was praiseworthy.
“Someone should show up soon.”
Havel pressed the butler while scanning the room.
Art and luxuries everywhere, flaunting wealth.
Classic Glasis vanity.
“These bastards... Banpellyon’s in the dirt, and they’re thriving.”
Naturally, it irked Havel.
“If you’re gonna rampage, at least state your identity first.”
A voice rang out.
Havel turned to see a middle-aged man.
Sharp features, but a bit portly overall.
What stood out was his glass-blue hair.
The hallmark of Glasis blood.
“Not the Sword Saint, I see.”
Havel sensed no real sword intent from him.
But his quick situational scan hinted at his status.
“Banpellyon.”
He already knew, but Havel stated it anyway.
“Butler, escort our guests to the reception room.”
The man welcomed him without protest.
“H-he’s ordering us around...”
“Dante, that’s enough.”
“Yes...”
Dante looked more exhausted than in the Tower.
Havel, meanwhile, stroked his chin.
They let him in without anger after all that.
“Might be trickier than I thought.”
It had been ages since his last real negotiation.
Back in his prime, called Iron Blood for his mercilessness.
Time to flex those skills.