Unknown Ruins, Deep Beneath Redpine City.
Henna had changed into light leather armor and tied up her red hair, carrying her sword as she arrived here.
As the city lord, she could have easily assigned one of her knights to handle this matter entirely.
There was no need for her to personally step into danger.
But the underground tunnels beneath Redpine City were deeply connected to the Assadis family—so Henna had to come herself.
As she stepped off the staircase, the guards stationed there greeted her in unison.
“Milady!”
Henna gave a small nod, then turned her gaze toward the elderly knight who was striding toward her.
The white-haired, white-bearded old knight saluted her and respectfully addressed her as “Milady.”
Across the continent, outside of the Westwind Empire, the other human kingdoms still maintained the old aristocratic and knightly systems, preserving these outdated traditions with great care.
Henna sighed inwardly—When will this crumbling house finally be torn down?
Outwardly, however, she still maintained the dignity expected of a lord as she questioned the old knight.
“How is it?”
The old knight remained silent for a moment, his expression flickering.
He had carefully thought through various ways to describe what he had learned, but in the end, he felt it would be best if Henna saw it with her own eyes.
He stepped aside and gestured.
“Milady, please follow me.”
Henna nodded slightly.
Guided by the old knight, the group passed through a wide corridor.
Upon reaching a vast hall, Henna’s gaze quickly fell on the anomaly atop the central altar.
Bright red blood had been used to trace out a strange magical array.
Dozens of torn cloth fragments were scattered on the floor.
And shattered clay jars littered the ground.
But aside from these, there were no bones, no flesh—not even signs of a struggle.
The sight made Henna frown deeply.
At that moment, the old knight called out to her, drawing her gaze.
He turned and looked toward the distance, signaling for her to do the same.
Henna followed his line of sight, her eyes sweeping past the stairs and landing on a collapsed structure—what remained of a massive gate.
Only half of it still stood, but even so, it was enough to see what it had once been.
Replacing the gate was a deep, abyss-like fissure in the stone wall.
It looked like the unopened eye of a slumbering beast.
Henna gasped sharply.
The old knight spoke.
“Milady, I’m ashamed to admit—even if I used all my strength, I couldn’t replicate even a tenth of that damage…”
“…”
“Since we set out, we’ve encountered almost no resistance. And in many places, fresh corpses have been reported—clean kills, sliced cleanly in half with no signs of struggle. Instant kills. That could only be the work of a swordmaster.”
“…”
“In my opinion, the cut in that stone wall is too precise—definitely done in a single strike. Only a seventh-tier swordmaster could manage such a feat.”
The old knight’s eyes burned with admiration.
It was clear he deeply revered the one who had left that mark behind.
Reaching the fifth tier was called Heaven’s Gate—a threshold that more than ninety percent of warriors could never cross.
Beyond the fifth, the path did not become easier.
Each new tier was another impassable chasm.
No tier was the hardest—each one was harder than the last.
Reaching the seventh tier of magical power meant one could be called a master even within the Empire.
Joining the military at that level would earn one a position of great responsibility.
In the northern kingdoms, such a person would be a rare and nearly unreachable figure.
Gulp.
Henna swallowed hard, her gaze fixed intently on the massive rift in the stone wall.
Who could have done this?
Unbidden, a figure appeared in her mind—Enya, with that radiant silver hair that stood out so vividly in her memory.
Could it be her?
“No, impossible. She’s only fourth-tier…”
Henna quickly dismissed the thought.
In her eyes, Enya was merely a fourth-tier adventurer.
The palms of her hands lacked the calluses of a swordfighter; she appeared more like a magic-user.
Besides… she had a child!
She looked so slender, so delicate—how could someone like her possibly leave a hundred-meter gash in solid stone?
“Ridiculous. How could I even suspect her?”
Henna rubbed her temples and gave a self-deprecating laugh.
She felt a hint of shame at her wild imagination.
To suspect a mother of running around slaughtering cultists… the idea was so absurd it belonged in a novel.
Suddenly, she remembered the necklace Enya had shown her.
“She said she came under the guidance of Princess Vivienne… Vivienne?”
Of course—Vivienne!
With that, Henna’s thoughts clicked into place.
But her expression grew even more grim.
She refocused her attention on the sword-wielding maid who always accompanied Princess Vivienne—a woman whose strength was impossible to gauge.
She now became Henna’s prime suspect.
Princess Vivienne had likely sent her maid to purge the cultists, then subtly guided the silver-haired woman to come and inform Henna.
It made perfect sense.
It had to be Princess Vivienne’s doing!
The Blood God Cult, which had taken root in Redpine City, was no new threat.
It had existed for many years—longer than Henna herself had been alive.
And this so-called cult had deep ties to the Assadis family, the ruling bloodline of the region.
That’s why their sigil still appeared on ancient maps of the area.
The tunnels beneath Redpine had been secretly constructed by the Assadis family generations ago.
They were a safeguard—a hidden escape route, born from fear of imperial reform and meant to preserve their power.
When Henna became the head of House Assadis and assumed the title of Lord, she officially declared the Blood God Cult a heretical sect.
From then on, it became the target of intense purges in Redpine and surrounding territories.
Henna also had a not-so-secret secret…
Her official story was this: that she had left home as a youth, and after learning her father and elder brother had fallen into the cult’s grasp, she returned to Redpine to save her people from destruction.
A noble and compassionate leader, driven by duty and virtue.
But in truth, her rise to power had been heavily influenced—no, orchestrated—by Princess Vivienne herself.
Henna was her carefully placed piece in the northern kingdoms’ gameboard.
Henna bit her lower lip and murmured to herself:
“Is this her way of showing me power?”
The talks of economic cooperation—that had been the carrot.
And this sword strike… was the stick.
She thought of Princess Vivienne, with her flowing pink hair and beautiful, delicate features.
Of course, beneath that angelic appearance was no innocence.
The realization sent a chill through Henna.
The old knight, noticing Henna had fallen silent in thought, waited a moment before speaking.
“Milady… what should we do next?”
Henna took a long moment to think before giving her orders.
“Continue clearing out the remaining cultists.
Once captured, bring in clergy from the Church of the Goddess to re-educate them.
Save as many as can be saved.
But those who are given a chance and still remain stubborn… don’t bother sparing them.”
Her voice turned from calm to cold as she spoke.
Just as the rumors said—she truly despised those cults.
“Yes, Lady Lord. I’ll see to it at once,” the old knight responded, taking her orders without hesitation.
Henna took one last look at the terrifying sword scar carved into the stone.
Her fists clenched unconsciously—but in the end, she loosened them and turned to descend the stairs.
As she walked, she muttered to herself:
“If only I had that kind of power… but unfortunately, I’m just an average person.”
Henna herself was only at the sixth tier of magical power—and for most people, sixth tier was the end of the road.
Someone like her didn’t even qualify to chase after that person.
In status and intellect, she was far beneath Princess Vivienne.
Vivienne was the player of the game… and she, Henna, was just a piece on the board.
“Sigh…”
Henna could only let out a long sigh in her heart.
Tftc!