"Ugh..." Little Fernan’s throat was caught in a chokehold. He tried to struggle, but his strength was no match for Andre, who was in his prime. He then tried to cast a spell but found himself unable to concentrate.

Andre could feel the man in his grasp still had some strength at first. Enduring the pain of his own burns, he tensed his muscles and squeezed his arms ever tighter. After what felt like several minutes, his opponent finally went limp.

"Huff... huff..." He let go, hesitating on whether to deliver a finishing blow. But with no weapon at hand, he settled for searching the man’s body.

’Keys... I have to hurry and let the others out.’ But when Andre emerged, he was dumbfounded. Every cell door had not only physical Iron Locks, but also an active Secret Technique Lock. This also meant Andre hadn’t actually choked the Caster to death.

He was at a loss for a moment. ’Should I go and get reinforcements?’ But he was unfamiliar with his surroundings. He could only follow the light toward the end of the corridor, when he suddenly heard a hair-raising voice:

"Are you not done yet? Where is he? Where is he?" Judging from the sound of the voice, it was an old man.

’Someone else is at the end of the hall...’ Andre, who had just started to relax, tensed up again. He heard a rustling sound, as if the old man was getting up, then footsteps drew near, his shadow thrown into relief by the light.

’Should I run back to the cell? Try the same trick again?’ Andre couldn’t decide. But in that moment of hesitation, the situation took an unexpected turn—the ceiling began to vibrate, and dirt started trickling down.

Old Fernan had just walked into the dungeon hallway, and the amount of falling dirt was increasing.

"What in the world is going on!" The old man had just finished a blood transfusion and was dizzy, as if he were drunk. He caught sight of Andre, covered in scorch marks, and his mouth fell slightly agape.

BOOM!

Old Fernan’s mouth opened even wider, because a person had just dropped down between him and Andre.

"Rorschach, you were right, it’s hollow down here! Come on down..." Pascal dusted off the dirt and rubble, then found himself face-to-face with the master of the house. They stared at each other.

His senior brother wanted to break the awkward silence. While gathering his power, he greeted his target, "Good evening..."

Though Old Fernan was no longer young, his Casting was still swift and decisive. With a sharp cry, he raised his hand, and an arrow of condensed, unknown energy—black and cold—shot toward Pascal.

However, a Blue Light Barrier rose around Pascal, perfectly deflecting the ominous arrow. Behind the barrier, Rorschach jumped down as well.

"Rorschach?" Old Fernan recognized the newcomer. Even as he spoke, his hands were busy. He pulled a shimmering crystal from his robes; chaotic currents of electricity danced within it.

Fernan estimated the barrier wouldn’t last long. He just had to activate the [Lightning Bolt], and it would pierce through the barrier and all three people in the narrow corridor.

However, as he was about to infuse it with Magic Power, he suddenly felt a strange impact that violently interrupted his Casting. Not only did Old Fernan’s attempt to activate the crystal fail, but the Blue Light Barrier also shattered and broke apart.

"Senior Brother!"

Pascal understood the cry instantly. He gritted his teeth, paused for a beat, and then, to the astonishment of Rorschach and Andre, charged straight forward.

He threw a punch with his right hand. The old man, scared out of his wits, dodged with a flick of his body. Pascal’s fist slammed into the wall, gouging a crater out of the solid stone, but he felt no pain at all and roared, "Don’t let this old geezer get away!"

’What kind of Mage fights like that?’

Rorschach and Andre were utterly stunned.

"Rorschach, you trespass in my villa and have your thug bully an old man!" Old Fernan shouted as he ran into the basement, kicking aside a youth who was being drained of blood.

He wasn’t trying to flee, but rather to activate the defensive measures set up in the room.

"Since you came here to die, don’t blame me for being ruthless... You can all get blown to bits in here!" The Ether from the entire estate was being channeled to a storage core. Once he activated it, it would cause a massive explosion that was not only physical but would also inflict double the impact on any Caster caught in the blast.

Given the dirty work done here, Old Fernan also intended to destroy all the evidence.

"There’s still the young man who was guarding the dungeon! I knocked him unconscious, and he’s still in there." Seeing the man’s savage expression and his intent to blow up the dungeon, Andre quickly told him that his accomplice was still inside.

This actually made Old Fernan hesitate. He muttered, "Impossible. My son is an Official Mage. How could he be defeated by a mongrel worse than an Apprentice?" Despite his words, his actions indeed slowed.

Rorschach hadn’t cast any Magic since the [Magic Roar], instead focusing on restoring his Magic Power. Following the old man and Pascal into the basement, Rorschach saw something utterly nauseating, as well as a victim on the verge of death.

A surge of anger welled up inside him, and his status panel flickered subtly.

Afraid of accidentally harming his son, Old Fernan changed his strategy. He gave up on destroying the place and instead resolved to use all his strength, relying on his own Magic to defeat the three young men and silence them forever.

He began by crushing another crystal, erecting a force wall to separate Rorschach from his "troublesome thug." He then began chanting a vague, obscure Spell. The atmosphere in the basement changed abruptly. The space around the Caster grew hazy and indistinct, and Old Fernan’s own figure became illusory.

It was as if wraiths from the Netherworld had been summoned. At a flick of Old Fernan’s hand, they shrieked as if whipped and lunged toward Rorschach and the other two. The prone blood-donor was also affected; a dark, withered hand began to creep over his body, dragging him into the shadows.

"I don’t know any exorcism Magic! Rorschach, do you? Lightning, Silver Star... anything will work..."

Pascal’s combat style was useless here, so he began preparing a [Fireball Skill] instead.

However, Pascal’s line of thinking played right into Old Fernan’s trap. By summoning the evil creatures, he could tie up his opponents while he continuously activated the Magic Items and Spell Crystals he was wearing.

"Get back!" Rorschach pointed his staff. At its tip, a pattern with a perfect hexagon at its core lit up with a crimson glow. A red Ray, as thick as a bowl, shot forth.

Not only were the wraiths swept up and shredded, but all the precious items Old Fernan was wearing were bathed in the decomposing light, turning to useless ash and being annihilated within the small underground space. Moreover, the entire estate’s Ether core was also destroyed, leaving only the untouched pedestal it once rested on as proof of its existence.

"No! No!" Poor Old Fernan saw half his life’s fortune obliterated in an instant. Having just received the transfusion of young blood, he hadn’t yet had a chance to let any out. Now, his vitality was overwhelming, rushing straight to his Skull.

The old man felt a wave of dizziness that was impossible to resist wash over him, and he fainted without sustaining any physical injury.

"Why would you enhance your body for melee combat?" Rorschach had used the Great Splitting Technique for the second time by force, and the cost was staggering. He had to lean on his staff, gasping for breath.

His senior brother cast the same spell he had just used on himself on Rorschach. Though it didn’t restore his depleted Spirit and Magic Power, Rorschach’s fatigue vanished in an instant.

Pascal explained, "It’s [Combat Motivation], from the Fourth Ring Enchantment System. It lets you ignore fatigue and pain for a short time and gives you a boost to strength and speed... Paulina made me learn it. It’s incredibly useful when you least expect it." After speaking, his senior brother gave him a smug, lopsided grin.

’Does the side effect turn a Mage into a barbarian...’ Rorschach had a strong urge to punch his senior brother right now and make him wipe that expression off his face.

"That was incredible!" Andre, who had just witnessed a battle between Mages, cheered for the victors. But a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, making his hair stand on end.

Fortunately, the person who appeared was Master Kano. Before trespassing, Rorschach had used his old trick again, sending Kano a marked map via a Communication Scroll.

"When did you arrive?"

"I arrived on the surface first. When the space fluctuated, I borrowed Fernan’s own power to teleport here." Kano raised his hand, and the unconscious forms of the Fernan father and son floated toward him. He then snapped his fingers, and all the Secret Technique Locks and Iron Locks shattered.

"Let’s start cleaning up. We need to be discreet. Don’t let this ugly business from within the Magic Guild get out."

"And these two..." Although Rorschach was extremely weak from having forced out the Great Splitting Technique, he was still treating the victim who had his blood drained. He frowned at Kano’s words.

Kano understood what Rorschach meant. "They will receive the punishment they deserve. I guarantee it."