CHAPTER 119: CH 119: DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE- PART 3

Fenrir stepped back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

The mana lock flickered and sealed again, its glow slightly brighter than before, as if acknowledging its master’s return.

As he walked through the mansion’s halls, retracing his steps, he felt no attachment. Not anymore.

He had what he came for—confirmation that his generals hadn’t given up, and the resources he needed to continue forward. The mansion had served its final purpose.

Now, it was time to say goodbye.

Fenrir paused at the front gates for just a second, glancing back at the grand estate. A twisted grin curved across his lips.

"This place was built to withstand armies. But even stone fades when fools take charge."

With that, he stepped out, disappearing into the chaos of the third floor’s open market once more—his pockets filled with gold, his mind filled with purpose, and his heart set on reclaiming everything that had been taken from him.

______

In the middle of the night, the quiet city of the third floor stirred with whispers and soft footsteps as a dim orange glow began to rise from the distance.

The mansion—once a grand structure, home to leaders and war heroes—was now engulfed in flames.

No explosion. No warning. Just a fire, steady and deliberate, eating away at wood, stone, and history alike.

There was no screaming chaos. With most of the staff having long since abandoned the estate or been dismissed due to cost-cutting, the mansion had been sparsely populated.

Those few still present escaped with little more than coughs and confusion. By the time the fire had become visible to the rest of the city, it was already too late.

Fenrir was gone.

He hadn’t stayed to admire his work.

He hadn’t waited for screams or witnesses. He simply vanished into the night, indifferent to the destruction he left behind.

He didn’t consider it revenge. To him, it was a fitting end to a house that no longer deserved to stand.

Let it crumble into ash. Let its new owners know what it meant to desecrate a legacy.

Out in front of the burning mansion, two figures stood in stunned silence: Gozu and his servant.

The flames reflected in their eyes as they watched their supposed empire turn to dust.

Their clothes were disheveled, their faces soot-streaked, and yet their expressions held more disbelief than fear.

"This isn’t fair. Why? Why would this happen to us?"

Gozu muttered, clenching his fists.

His servant stood beside him, panting, sweat and soot mixing on his face.

"It’s all gone... everything..."

Around them, the crowd of onlookers only watched with quiet satisfaction. No one rushed to help. No one tried to douse the fire.

There were no cries of sympathy—only cold, judgmental glares and whispers that cut like blades.

"Serves them right."

"That place was cursed anyway."

"Traitors deserve no home."

Gozu didn’t care. He had stopped caring about their looks long ago. Their hate had become a constant background noise to his life.

What truly mattered came to his mind in an instant.

"The device! Is the mana-capturing device safe?!"

He gasped, spinning toward his servant.

The servant blinked in shock, then fumbled through the satchel slung over his back.

With trembling hands, he pulled out the device—a crystal orb bound in etched metal. They both stared at it as if it were a precious jewel.

It was intact. Not a scratch on it.

They sighed in relief almost in unison.

But then the servant froze. His fingers tightened around the frame, and his expression twisted from relief to horror.

"...Young master... something’s wrong."

Gozu blinked and leaned in.

"What?"

The servant slowly held the device up, turning it so Gozu could see.

The once-luminous core at the center of the orb had dulled. The glow was gone, replaced by lifeless, cloudy glass. And the worst part?

The mana reading gauge sat at zero.

"All the mana—it’s gone. Everything we collected... it’s just... gone."

The servant said, voice hollow.

Panic set in.

"No, no, no—this has to be a mistake!"

Gozu snatched the orb, shaking it like a broken machine.

"We filled this thing! We watched him do it! There’s no way—!"

But the truth was right in front of them. The device had been tricked. Whatever power Fenrir had used to fake the transfer was gone now, and with it, their last chance at paying the fifth floor’s tax.

Gozu stared at the dead device in disbelief, then gritted his teeth.

"That bastard... he tricked us. He planned this."

The servant remained silent for a moment. Then, his face twisted in determination.

"We have to find him. If he could do it once, he can do it again. We just... need to keep him around this time."

Gozu looked up, a dark glint in his eyes.

"Yes... we’ll find him. And this time, we won’t let him walk away. I don’t care who he is or where he came from. We’ll use him until we’re on top again."

Together, the pair left the ruins of the mansion behind.

The fire still crackled in the distance, and the crowd began to disperse, satisfied by the destruction they had witnessed.

But Gozu and his servant had a new fire burning in their hearts now—fueled by desperation and greed.

They moved through the market streets quickly, asking questions, bribing information brokers, tracking every rumor of a man with unknown origins and strange powers.

And then, not long after dawn broke, they spotted him—calmly walking through the market, dressed in the same unassuming clothes, a faint smile on his face.

The same man who had tricked them, humiliated them, and burned their dreams to ash.

Gozu’s eyes narrowed.

"Let’s get him."

He muttered.

And so, the hunt began.

______

Fenrir walked calmly through the crowded market, fully aware of the two shadows tailing him.

Their attempts to stay hidden were clumsy at best, and while they might have fooled others, they were far too inexperienced to fool him.

He didn’t speed up, didn’t try to confront them in the middle of the streets.

Instead, he simply made his way toward the outer edge of the kingdom, where fewer people wandered and the open plains stretched endlessly beyond.

Once he reached a quiet stretch of land beyond the gates, he stopped.

"I know you’re there. Come out already."

He called without turning around.

There was a brief moment of silence before Gozu and his servant stepped into view. They were both smiling—too wide, too forced.

"Ah, Our dear guest. We were just worried. You disappeared so suddenly, and with the fire... well, we were concerned for your safety."

Gozu said smoothly.

"Yes. We just wanted to check on you. We thought we could... escort you back."

The servant added quickly.

Fenrir turned to face them, his expression unreadable.

"Do you think I’m foolish?"

That single question struck like a blade. Gozu’s smile faltered, and his servant stiffened, clearly unsure of how to respond.

"We—of course not. We’re just—?"

Gozu stammered.

Fenrir cut him off with a sigh.

"I’ve played along long enough. I heard every word in that house. You wanted to use me. You thought I was gullible. I don’t blame you. But I also don’t need you anymore"

He said, taking a step closer.

Gozu instinctively stepped back.

"Wait—"

"No. It’s time for you two to disappear.""

Fenrir said firmly.

There was no anger in his voice. Just calm, cold dismissal.

The air around him shifted, the ground vibrating slightly under his feet as his mana flared.

Gozu and his servant froze, realizing too late that they were now facing someone they had never truly understood.

They had tried to deceive a storm—only to realize it too late, when the wind had already started to blow.