NOVEL NEXT Chapter 497: The Crystal from the North
Ethan sighed, a weary familiarity settling over him as he stepped quickly between the two elders, prying them apart before their argument could escalate. He already knew what Hank was about to say, and he knew Regis wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of finishing it.
With the ease of long practice, Ethan produced a fine bottle of spirits and pressed it into Hank's hand, a silent request for peace. The old man, never one to resist needling his rival, only arched a brow at Regis. A mischievous glimmer sparked in his eyes as he winked, the unspoken message clear: Push me again and I'll drag all your secrets into the light.
Regis's answering glare was venomous, but his hands moved with sharp precision, weaving patterns in the air. One after another, the protective seals blanketing the grand hall began to unravel. As the first dissolved, a chill spread through the chamber so sharp it made Ethan's skin prickle. Only then did he realize Regis had blanketed the entire hall in a Sealed Domain. Relief swept through him that he hadn't wandered in earlier—and that he had told Julian to steer well clear.
The memory of Regis's last display of that terrifying technique still lingered. Ethan had watched every living thing caught inside freeze solid in an instant, reduced to brittle ice statues that shattered into dust at the faintest touch.
"City Lord," Micah burst out, genuine shock in his voice, "your strength is far beyond your rank! This sealing domain is… impossible. Your rank is no higher than mine, yet this is on another level entirely."
His words gave voice to the very question that had been gnawing at Ethan.
"Of course it's beyond him," Hank drawled, taking a long swig from his new prize. "He can only pull that off here in Beastfall."
The remark clicked something into place for Ethan. So Regis's overwhelming display wasn't just personal power—it was bound to the city's ancient arrays. Micah, a master of runes and formations himself, recognized the truth at once. His eyes narrowed, thoughtful.
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When the party had settled inside the grand hall, Julian fussed over Bongo's injuries, while the dazed Dana was escorted out back to rest. Ethan let his senses sweep through the City Lord's manor, but the estate was empty. Even the quadruplet sisters had vanished. He meant to ask, but Regis's voice cut across the silence first.
"Ethan, we can't just sit here waiting for disaster to land on our heads."
Everyone turned at once. Ethan, caught off guard, asked, "You already have a plan?"
"Not a plan," Regis admitted, pausing as though weighing each word, "but suspicions. Back at the Windspirit Faction, when those Saint-ranked powerhouses appeared, every faction leader was blindsided. Every leader except Shaw Zilo. That idiot didn't so much as flinch. Which makes me think Windspirit and the Forgotten City share a tie none of us see. Otherwise, Shaw Zilo would've been the first to screech in outrage. And Ethan—you said yourself that when you returned, Hurricane City had already been leveled. Where did its people go? They couldn't all be dead."
The weight of his reasoning settled over the group. Heads began to nod. His suspicions weren't far-fetched.
"Boss, what are we waiting for?" Blackie broke in impatiently. "Let's just march to the Forgotten City already."
Ethan didn't answer at once. His thoughts churned. The whole thing was too convenient, too clean. When Hurricane City revealed twelve Saint-ranked powerhouses, had that really been the full extent of their might? If so, why hadn't they seized control of the entire Sea of Death ages ago? Not even a City Lord defending his territory could withstand twelve Saints striking at once. That was exactly how, centuries ago, the City Lord who defied the Sacred Assembly was cut down.
So why expose that strength now, and for what—eight cryptic verses? Their motive still eluded him. For now, all he could do was move carefully, one step at a time. And Blackie wasn't entirely wrong. By Ethan's count, eight of those Saints had already fallen. Uncle Jed's tribulation had claimed five. Bongo had crushed two and injured another. And the final attacker had been obliterated by Dragon Child's tail as they reached Beastfall. That left at most four, one of them gravely wounded.
If those numbers were right, a trip to the Forgotten City was feasible. Whatever connection it had to the Windspirit Faction, they needed answers.
He opened his mouth to say so, but Regis spoke first.
"Before the Forgotten City, we should stop at Clearspring."
Ethan frowned. "Why Clearspring? Their foundation is as deep as Hurricane's. If anything, they'll be a harder ally to sway."
"That's exactly why," Regis said, drawing a sheaf of aged letters from his robe. "If we join forces with Clearspring, we might accomplish in half the time what we'd waste a lifetime chasing alone. Baelor Wane has courted me for years, urging an alliance against the Forgotten City. What troubled me was his price. He told me I could take the Forgotten City. He only wanted the Extreme North Ice Fields."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "The Ice Fields? Nothing lives there but endless snow."
"Or so I thought," Regis agreed grimly. "I assumed he was lying, biding his time to carve up the Forgotten City once I made the first move. But…" His hand dipped to the pouch at his belt. He drew something out and placed it in his palm.
A flawless white orb rested there, pulsing with a faint, otherworldly glow.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"Energy Core?" Ethan breathed.
"Source Energy Crystal," Micah corrected sharply, speaking almost in the same instant as Ethan. The two men locked eyes, each seeing the recognition mirrored in the other.
Regis's own eyes narrowed. "You know what this is?"
Ethan gestured for Micah to speak.
The rune master inclined his head. "Energy Crystals are common currency in my homeland, though they're far more than money. Each contains raw essence that can be absorbed to strengthen one's foundation. Most crystals carry elemental traits, so we need refining arrays to strip them down into neutral energy before use. The fusion technique Blackie and I employ was built from that very principle. But what you hold, City Lord, is something higher—an unaligned Source Crystal, pure and without attribute. Any Energy user can absorb it directly."
His voice dropped, his eyes burning with something more than awe.
"And yet that's not its true worth."
Blackie leaned forward, impatient. "Then what is it?"
Micah smiled faintly, his excitement barely contained. "Its name says everything. It isn't just raw essence. What you're holding is power drawn from the Source itself—the power of the Source God."