Chapter 93: The Legacy Beneath the Legacy

"What is... happening?" Ethan murmured softly under his breath.

His mind reeled in absolute confusion. Everything had unfolded within a matter of heartbeats—the sleek black metal ring dissolving into a shimmering cloud of golden mist, reforming into an ethereal ancient rune, etching itself over his palm, and finally twisting into the intricate serpentine silhouette of a dragon.

A dozen questions crowded in at once, faster than he could sort through them.

What happened to the ring? Why had it suddenly transformed into this? What had triggered it?

He didn’t ask. Iris was still staring at his hand, just as lost as he was.

The ring had never been its true form. It had only ever been a shell around whatever this truly was. Every answer he’d been chasing since the moment he first touched that black metal was buried somewhere inside what now sat coiled across his palm.

What would happen to the martial forms and functions contained within the artifact?

The artifact undeniably contained the legacy of the Mercenary King. The martial forms, circulation pathways, records of his organization, and several of its functions had all been passed down through this very ring.

Yet this ancient rune was different.

Ethan had seen countless runes throughout his life. They were an established part of modern magic, used in everything from magical formations and artifacts to weapons and defensive arrays. But he had never seen anything remotely resembling this—not anywhere in the current civilization.

Its structure was impossibly intricate, its geometry unlike anything he had encountered before, carrying an indescribable sense of antiquity.

The Mercenary King was remembered as one of the strongest warriors in history. He had walked the path of the warrior and reached a height few had ever approached.

But why had he gone through all of this?

If his purpose was simply to pass down his martial legacy, he could have left his techniques and knowledge to a successor directly. There was no need to create an artifact that concealed its secrets behind countless layers, gradually revealing its functions only as its wielder grew stronger.

And yet, he had gone even further.

He had left behind an organization whose members spent generations searching for his true successor.

Why make the process so complicated?

Ethan’s gaze lingered on the golden dragon.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he had misunderstood something fundamental about the Mercenary King’s legacy.

Why had he gone to such lengths to prepare a successor?

And why had that successor been destined to come from the Ravencrest bloodline?

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

What connection did the Mercenary King have to House Ravencrest?

What was he preparing his successor for?

Iris leaned in close, scanning Ethan’s bare palm with her mana before expanding her divine perception to pierce beneath his skin. She tried several unraveling spells and tracing arrays, but found absolutely nothing. Only when she looked up did she catch the lingering shock and deep confusion written across his face.

"Hey, kid... do you see something?" Iris asked, her voice dropping to a low, intense whisper.

Ethan took a slow, steadying breath, Iris’s words snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. Meeting her unblinking violet eyes, he slowly explained everything—the golden dragon outline running across his palm and wrist, visible only to him.

The moment he mentioned the dragon outline, Iris paused. Her entire demeanor shifted into absolute stillness, a faint trace of recognition flickering deep within her eyes—though Ethan couldn’t tell what she had recognized.

"Kid, try to channel your aura into it," she urged quickly.

Ethan followed her instructions without hesitation, focusing his mind and directing a stream of his aura straight into the palm of his right hand.

"Do you see it?" he asked.

"No... try to send more," Iris instructed, her eyes scanning his hand.

Ethan pushed further, sending more of his aura into the invisible mark. Seeing no reaction, Iris subtly extended her own mana, attempting to weave it alongside his to force the mark to manifest. But no matter how much force they applied or how delicately they manipulated the surrounding space, nothing worked.

The agonizing process dragged on for hours inside the quiet domain. They tried different mana densities, varied circulation speeds, and multiple arcane arrays, only to resign themselves to failure as a heavy pause settled over the study.

Suddenly, a sharp spark flashed in Iris’s eyes as an idea struck her.

"Ethan... you can use Intent, right?"

Ethan froze, immediately realizing what she was aiming for. But he knew he didn’t have complete control over his Intent yet; his current realm was far too low, and using it indiscriminately would place an enormous, dangerous strain on his body.

He couldn’t understand why Iris was pushing him this hard over it. They had been experimenting continuously for nearly ten hours, and his aura reserves were nearly depleted, leaving him bordering on physical exhaustion. Yet, seeing the burning intensity in her eyes, Ethan didn’t dare question her. He knew her lifelong obsession with ancient runes and lost arcane secrets. Besides, even he had been utterly stunned by the terrifying complexity of the ancient formation during the brief moment it had hovered in mid-air.

Resigning himself to the fact that he had no choice but to follow her lead, Ethan spoke quietly. "I will try... but I don’t think I can control it properly right now."

Hearing his answer, the intense, almost predatory obsession on Iris’s face melted away, replaced instantly by a cheerful, encouraging smile.

"I know you can do it, kid," she said warmly, waving her hand. "Even if you can’t control it completely, just try to guide a bare thread of your Intent alongside your aura. Take your time."

Ethan sat down cross-legged on the floor and took a deep, rhythmic breath, stripping his mind of all distraction. He activated the Northern Heaven War Art to rapidly draw in the surrounding mana in the atmosphere and replenish his drained aura.

Iris remained beside him, silently observing the steady rhythm of his breathing and the precise flow of energy through his body. An hour passed before Ethan finally opened his eyes.

Ethan stood up, taking his place beside Iris once more. Closing his eyes, he focused his mental concentration to its absolute peak. He carefully gathered a thread of aura and attempted to insert his Intent into the flow.

Snap.

Before the energy could even reach halfway down his arm, his aura’s unstable density snapped and dispersed into nothingness.

Ethan gritted his teeth and tried again. This time, he moved slower, carefully adjusting the aura’s compression layer by layer.

He failed again. And again. Each attempt cost him a little more than the last, his aura fraying thinner with every collapse, yet he forced himself to try once more, unwilling to let his own limitations be the reason this mystery went unsolved.

Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain spiked through his chest. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, drenching his skin, though the moisture was quickly cleansed away by the enchanted Moonspun Silk tunic he wore.

"Gh—!"

A low groan escaped Ethan’s lips as his body recoiled, a thin trickle of dark blood trailing down from the corner of his mouth from internal strain.

"Kid! Are you okay?!" Iris stepped forward instantly, genuine concern evident in her voice as her playful demeanor shattered.

Ethan wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his sleeve and took a ragged breath. He knew her worry was real, but he also understood that Iris wouldn’t have pushed him to this absolute limit unless it was something truly significant.

"I am okay," Ethan said, his voice flat and unyielding. "Let’s continue."

He calmed his racing heart, casting aside the pain and immersing his consciousness in absolute, unbroken concentration. Circulating a refined strand of aura, he delicately adjusted its density, alignment, and flow, carefully wrapping a paper-thin thread of Intent around it before driving it directly into the invisible dragon outline on his palm.

VRRRRRR!

Without warning, the golden outline on his palm flared with blinding, sun-like intensity. The intricate lines burned through the air as a massive, ethereal phantom of a golden dragon erupted outward from his hand, uncoiling its wings and expanding into the vast study.

ROAAAAAAAR!

A primordial roar echoed through the isolated dimension—a sound so divine and ancient that it shattered the surrounding silence, vibrating through the very fabric of the pocket space and shaking the floor beneath their feet.

Iris stood completely mesmerized by the manifestation before her. A subtle glint of unease flickered in her eyes as she took in the full, staggering form... yet when she looked back at Ethan, that unease gradually faded, replaced by a quiet sense of relief.

Meanwhile, Ethan was also completely lost in awe, staring up at the majestic dragon shape taking form before him.

---

Valerian Estate — The Main Grounds

While the experiments had consumed two days inside the isolated pocket dimension, a day had passed across the Valerian estate since Ethan and Iris entered the high tower study.

In the sunlit gardens, Duke Lucas stood on the upper terrace, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared up toward the silent archway leading to his mother’s private domain.

"They still haven’t come out," Lucas muttered, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Beside him, Estelle sat gracefully in an iron chair, pouring a cup of fresh tea for the Duke before placing the porcelain teapot back on the small table.

"Don’t worry about them, Lucas. It is going to be fine," she said softly.

"I am not worried about her," Lucas grunted, taking a sip. "I am worried about the boy. We don’t know what sort of crazy experiment she is trying to conduct with him."

A small chuckle escaped Estelle’s lips at the Duke’s blunt remark, bringing a warm, rare smile to both of their faces.

Down below, amidst the vast and beautifully manicured gardens of the estate, Isabella walked slowly along the stone pathways, watching the setting sun paint the sky in shades of crimson and violet. Beside her, Rune trotted along calmly, having thoroughly enjoyed the generous portion of food Isabella had brought him earlier. Over the past few days, he had grown remarkably comfortable in her presence.

Isabella paused, glancing up toward the distant tower window, her eyes filled with a quiet, unexplainable reflection.

---

Deep Within the Ancient Ruins of Drakengrave

Far beyond the borders of the Valerian domain, hidden in the deepest, forgotten depths of the continent, Drakengrave stood as it always had—silent, ancient, and largely undisturbed.

In the innermost sanctuary, a towering circular wall carved with intricate, glowing patterns stood eternal guard over a vast, abyssal chamber stretching for tens of thousands of meters into total darkness. Whatever lay at the heart of that darkness had remained undisturbed for longer than anyone still living could say.

Then, as the phantom roar echoed across the conceptual plane, tearing through distance and dimension alike, the ancient runes along the circular wall stirred—flickering once, twice, before humming fully to life for the first time in longer than memory could reach.

Deep within the center of the pitch-black void, something ancient stirred.

Slowly, an enormous eye opened.