Chapter 10: Wealth Beyond Its Value.
One night before that day—the very night Leeward discovered the fortune of diamonds and gold.
Two figures approached from the east, mounted on horseback, moving slowly across the vast farmlands. The night was cold, and the moon sat centered in the sky like a sovereign lord. The figure on the left had medium-length red hair, sharp features, and eyebrows as crimson as his locks. He appeared young—this was **Kante Sharman**, the illegitimate son of the King of the Sharman Clan.
On the right was a man with short white hair and a sharp, square jaw. That was **Ege Morse**, from the Morse family, which held immense influence within the ruling Sharman territories. Officially, he served the clan as a messenger; in reality, he was a high-level spy for the Sharmans.
As they pressed on, Kante noticed something unsettling: the wagon tracks had vanished.
The plan was predetermined—the caravan was to travel south through **Metnald Province**, specifically passing through **Morgue Village**. Every ten kilometers, a subtle signal was to be left to indicate the caravan was intact and hadn't been ambushed. They were exactly ten kilometers behind the caravan's last known position, a safety gap maintained in case of sudden danger.
"We are ten thousand meters behind. This is the exact point where a signal should have been left to confirm the caravan's safety... but there is nothing," Ege whispered calmly, dismounting his horse. He began to scan the ground, searching for any clue—perhaps the wind had scattered the signal or buried it in the dirt.
At that moment, Kante felt an oppressive sensation in the air.
*"Something is wrong... I can feel a dense spiritual energy saturating the atmosphere around us,"* he thought. He reached out his hand, touching the open air. A faint, lingering heat clung to the breeze. He released his own **Spiritual Field** to confirm his suspicion, and the moment his soul surged through his pores to form the field...
Crimson sparks exploded. It was a violent friction—a clash between the dense, stagnant spiritual energy in the air and his own field. Kante reacted instantly, retracting his energy. A pale red flame danced in the air before him.
"If I had been a second slower, my arm would have burned..."
He backed away immediately, while his horse whinnied in terror at the dismal aura. Ege witnessed the scene, his expression turning grim. This only happened in one scenario.
"A warrior of the **Higher Ranks** must have been here... their spiritual energy is still coating the air," Ege said in a low tone.
Kante's face hardened into a mask of absolute seriousness. "Then the caravan was attacked by this individual. There is no other explanation."
They had to move. Now.
"Damn it! If we lose this fortune, it's a catastrophe. The King will be furious. That wealth was for the King's **Secret Marriage**; losing it will not end well for anyone."
Kante realized the magnitude of the disaster. Ege mounted his horse instantly. "Let's go! Move!"
The two thundered across the land, the rhythmic gallop of their horses filling the night. *"Who would dare attack the knights of the ruling Sharman Clan? This person must possess immense power and authority to have such audacity,"* Ege wondered, bewildered.
A few moments later, they reached a distant hill. Their nostrils flared at the sharp, metallic scent of blood saturating the air. From that vantage point, they saw the caravan.
A pale look washed over Kante's face. This was beyond his worst expectations. Most of the knights in the caravan were of the **Second Rank—Transition Tier**, and the rest were **Third Rank—Knight, Foundation Tier**.
The attacker was a shadow.
They must have known about the King's secret marriage to strike with such surgical brutality. To slaughter over fifteen Royal Knights single-handedly... Kante's mind struggled to process the sheer scale of the massacre.
Ege spoke, his voice trembling with shock: "Maybe someone is still alive... Come, let's go and check."
"Right... it's a possibility."
The two surged forward toward the caravan, which lay only a thousand meters away.
The Sharman Clan was already obscenely wealthy; such a fortune wouldn't necessarily make them richer.
However, the significance lay not in the monetary value, but in its origin. The diamonds and gold were of the finest quality, but more importantly, this treasure had been hidden away since the reign of the Sixth King, **Forge Sharman**, who had personally gathered and boasted of it.
For the current King to use it for his marriage signified that this union was of paramount importance to him and the entire Sharman Clan.
Ege pondered this as he galloped alongside Kante toward the site of the massacre. Dead horses and the mangled corpses of knights were scattered everywhere, each cut with a terrifying, predator-like precision—as if a lion or an eagle had feasted with monstrous artistry. The air was thick with a suffocating stench.
"The King will be beyond furious..." Kante muttered.
"Not just him, but the whole clan. This was King Forge's legacy; the fallout will be severe," Ege replied, staring at the brutal scene.
Kante, however, had a different thought. What if the killer hadn't taken the wealth? He steered his horse toward the wagon, but when he looked inside, his heart sank. It was empty. "This makes it even worse. The wealth is gone. We don't know who did it, but the investigation will begin at the nearest village."
As Ege spoke of finding the thief, Kante began to examine the ground meticulously. He noticed footprints in the coagulated blood. They weren't from boots or sandals. They were... **bare feet**.
It was bizarre. Who would walk through this carnage barefoot?
Kante released his **Spiritual Field**, but with extreme caution. His aura was so faint it was barely a visible thread. Through this, he discovered something crucial.
He sensed the spiritual energy of fifteen knights and the overwhelming power of the mysterious attacker. But there was an extra trace—a person of the **First Rank: Body and Soul, Transition Tier**.
The count of spiritual signatures was seventeen, not sixteen.
"I suspect the owner of these footprints... is that person of the First Rank," Kante whispered. "The mystery is deepening."
"What do you mean? We must inform the King first," Ege insisted, his mind focused on the urgent message.
"Let's not overcomplicate this. Return to the **Mantis Capital** and deliver the news. I will stay in Morgue Village until you return." Kante's eyes glinted with cunning. "I have my suspicions. I doubt the one who killed the knights took the wealth. I think it was a villager. This is a political trap, woven in silence."
Ege agreed. He surged toward the Mantis Capital—the heart of the Sharman territories, also known as the **Dragon Empire**.
**Back in the Present...**
Tremors shook the earth as dust filled the sky. "Calm down! Calm down! They are Sharman Clan soldiers!" Ogi shouted, trying to steady his panicked guards. The sight of the red banners with the **Golden Dragon** brought a temporary, shaky relief.
Ogi wondered if they were just stopping for rest, but the reality was far grimmer. The army arrived pulling shattered wagons filled with dead soldiers. Leading the fifty-man unit was **Oliver Morse**, a man whose gray hair and sharp eyes radiated wisdom and authority. Beside him rode Ege Morse.
They halted before Ogi. "Prepare fifteen graves for the fallen knights," Oliver ordered directly, his voice brooking no argument. "And before that... fetch your Village Headman."
"Immediately, sir," Ogi complied, his mind racing. *Is there a war? Were they attacked by a beast?* Everything was shrouded in a darkness he couldn't yet grasp.
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