Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 295: You still don’t get it

"Is that really it?

They took heavy losses and didn’t want to push us too far, so now they’re trying to make peace?"

Ethan mulled it over, his tone skeptical but not dismissive.

"Well... I guess that kind of makes sense."

After all, even though Hero Units can come back to life after dying in battle,

there’s one punishment no one can dodge—losing levels.

And for a Hero Unit, three things matter more than anything else:

Tier, race, and origin.

Those determine your potential ceiling.

But whether you can actually reach that ceiling?

That all comes down to one thing—your level.

Level is like a hard cap.

No matter how great your bloodline is, how rare your class, or how insane your talent—

if your level’s too low, all that power is just theory.

Take this for example:

Naga Swordmaster Kairos.

He was level 74 when he died.

After he respawned? Level 70.

Same class, same gear, same bloodline, same race, same skills—

but just four levels lower, and it was like he got shoved off a cliff.

His power dropped off a damn cliff.

That’s why level isn’t just some XP grind.

It’s the real measure of how far you can go.

So yeah, not wanting to piss off Emerald Castle?

That’s understandable.

Sure, Emerald Castle’s current strength isn’t all that impressive—

but their foundation? That’s a whole different story. freёnovelkiss.com

They’ve got the legacy of three Crimson Ultimate heroes backing them.

That alone is enough to make The Abyssan Naga—

who doesn’t even have a single Tier 13 Legendary Unit—

swallow their pride and back off.

But... is that really all there is to it?

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, flickering with suspicion.

His gut told him—

this wasn’t that simple.

"Still..."

At the same time, Cicero stood silently, brows furrowed deep in thought.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low and cautious.

"Master... I just have this feeling. His goal isn’t that straightforward.

If he really came just to make peace, then everything he said afterward—

none of that was necessary."

"You mean Maelthorak?" Ethan asked, eyes gleaming.

"Yeah..."

Cicero nodded, his brows knitting even tighter. "Maelthorak might be a fallen Sea King now, but he’s still a major figure in the Tidesworn faction. There’s no reason to just casually bring him up in conversation like that..."

He paused, then added in a lower voice, "Master, to be honest, I think this might be a trap. The way he kept bringing up Maelthorak, and the Primordial Force of the Crimson Ultimate heroes—it felt deliberate. Like he was baiting us. Laying a trap and just waiting for us to walk right into it."

"A trap?"

Ethan fell silent, his eyes flickering as his mind raced.

Primordial Force... Crimson Ultimate heroes... Maelthorak... Sea King... growth... power... Kyros... wait—Kyros?!

Suddenly, it hit him—like sunlight breaking through a foggy sky. A clear thread of logic snapped into place in his mind, and everything started to make sense.

His expression darkened, and he let out a dry, almost amused sigh.

"So that’s what this is... That old bastard’s really playing dirty," Ethan muttered under his breath.

Cicero was sharp—no doubt about that—but he lacked experience in the kind of political scheming and backroom manipulation that came with dealing with people. That’s why he could sense something was off, but couldn’t quite put his finger on the deeper game being played.

Ethan, on the other hand...

Sure, he wasn’t as naturally brilliant as Cicero.

But he had something else—memories from two parallel worlds.

Even if he wasn’t exactly a master strategist yet, he’d seen enough, lived through enough, and absorbed enough from both lives to recognize the signs when someone was trying to play him. And with Cicero’s nudge, the pieces finally clicked into place.

No doubt about it—

that old bastard was dangerous.

...

Meanwhile, deep beneath the waves, Elder Thaloren of the Deep Naga Temple and Naga Swordmaster Orykas had already left the Stellamaris Kingdom behind, swimming swiftly and silently through the ocean’s depths.

But...

It didn’t take long before Orykas, clearly struggling to hold it in any longer, suddenly turned to Thaloren. His jaw clenched, voice tight with frustration.

"Elder Thaloren, I still don’t get it!"

He gritted his teeth, eyes burning.

"He’s the one who killed Thalric. He’s the one who killed Kairos. So why the hell are we the ones bowing our heads?"

Elder Thaloren turned his head and glanced at him—not angry, just calm, almost indifferent.

"The Second Decree of the High Temple," he said quietly. "You haven’t forgotten it, have you? If you haven’t, then say it. Now."

Orykas froze, his face stiffening.

But after a moment, he clenched his jaw, lowered his head, and spoke.

"The Second Decree of the High Temple: No matter the time, no matter the reason—whether we are the aggressors or the victims—we must never provoke a Crimson Ultimate Hero. Anyone who violates this decree will be severely punished. In extreme cases... exiled from the tribe."

"Good," Thaloren said with a faint smile. "Word for word. Not a single mistake."

He looked at Orykas again, his voice still calm but carrying weight.

"Now do you understand why?"

Orykas’s expression darkened, his fists clenched at his sides. He still looked unwilling to accept it.

"But Elder Thaloren..."

"No buts."

Thaloren cut him off coldly. "Unless you’re ready to be branded a traitor. Ready to be cast out of the Abyssan Naga. Is that what you want, Orykas?"

Orykas flinched, his whole body tensing. After a long pause, he finally lowered his head again.

"No, Elder Thaloren... That’s not what I meant. I... I was wrong."

"No..."

But Thaloren shook his head slowly, his voice tinged with something like regret.

"You’re not wrong. This is just the reality we live in."

He looked out into the dark waters ahead, his tone turning reflective.

"We, the Abyssan Naga, are the pride of the Tidesworn faction. A Signature 12-Tier Unit. People envy us—our powerful backing, our thriving race, our high status. But have you ever heard this saying?"

’The higher you rise, the harder you fall.’

"The higher we climb, the more others want to drag us down."

"You should know this, Orykas. The Tidesworn faction is already considered one of the weaker factions among the major powers. And even so, just within our own ranks, there are at least four or five other 11- and 12-Tier units watching us like hawks, waiting for us to slip."

Orykas’s face went pale at that.

But he still wasn’t ready to let it go.

"But Elder Thaloren... even if that’s true, that’s still internal politics within the Tidesworn faction, right? No matter how strong Emerald Castle is, they’re not part of our faction. They can’t possibly be stronger than the entire Tidesworn, can they?!"

Thaloren let out a long sigh and shook his head, clearly disappointed.

"Orykas... you still don’t get it."

Orykas opened his mouth to respond—

but no words came out.