High above the vast abyss on Gregory Island, the remaining recruits watched in stunned horror as Chogo stepped off the cliff’s edge without a second thought.
Panic rippled through the crowd; everyone was convinced the giant Grod was as good as dead.
No one survived a drop like that.
Mid-air, Chogo free-fell through the rushing wind.
The chasm was a bottomless void, and he had no idea when—or how—he would hit the bottom.
Yet he wasn’t particularly worried, far too busy mentally gloating about the legendary durability of Grod hide under extreme impact…
Then, after several minutes of a frantic plummet, the ground rushed up to meet him.
Directly beneath him lay a deadly bed of jagged stone spires.
Avoiding them was physically impossible.
The Grod began to thrash frantically in the air, but before he could alter his trajectory—CRUNCH.
He impaled himself violently on a massive stone pillar.
…
No.
That was just his imagination.
He was still hurtling through the air, the deadly spires rushing toward him at terrifying speed.
Instinct took over.
Using his downward momentum, Chogo twisted his massive upper body and slammed both hands directly into the sheer cliff face.
His fingertips scraped against the solid rock with a ear-splitting screech, violently arresting his momentum.
After two grueling minutes of ferocious friction, he finally ground to a halt.
Breathing heavily, his fingers torn and bloody, Chogo grimaced.
Without the brutal density of his Grod flesh, his hands would have been shredded straight to the bone.
Meanwhile, deep within the Forest of Giants, Narissa and Lucas were running at a grueling pace to make up for lost time.
The Neïd noticed with mild surprise that the young man had reclaimed his strength.
He looked in far better shape than he had the previous night.
Breaking the silence without breaking her stride, she called out to him.
“You… What’s your name?”
Lucas glanced at her, caught off guard, before snapping his eyes back to the terrain ahead.
“I… I’m Lucas.
Lucas Frost.”
“Frost…” She kept her eyes forward.
“So tell me, why were you in such terrible shape when I found you?”
The boy fell silent.
He hesitated to answer—not out of distrust toward Narissa, but because simply recalling his brutal struggle against Ben made his stomach turn.
Reading his discomfort, the Neïd deftly shifted her line of questioning.
“Does your burn still hurt?”
Taken aback, Lucas realized the agonizing sting had dulled.
Though the wound remained, the pain was now manageable.
He offered a nod of confirmation.
Narissa checked her own curiosity, holding back further questions about how he’d acquired such a severe injury.
With her extensive background in the underworld, she knew that with someone like Lucas, trust wasn’t forced—it was built over time.
Still, her fascination with him grew.
This fragile-looking kid had pushed himself to absolute collapse despite a horrific injury.
What’s more, she heavily suspected he was the one responsible for the corpse she had stumbled across earlier.
Thousands of leagues away, in the ultra-exclusive Fineshester district of Malbour.
Far removed from the filth of the lower city, the most influential figures in the realm indulged in absolute luxury.
Here, high nobles, wealthy magnates, and renowned opera stars strolled through pristine, manicured estates.
The palatial manors were breathtaking, and a single dish served at a local establishment cost more than a working man’s four-month salary.
Alongside Dominion, Narcasse, and Flédow, this district represented what the citizens of Malbour referred to as the “Quintessence of the Miracle.”
Possessing dark brown eyes, sleek black hair, and a rich, tanned complexion, he wore impeccably tailored attire adorned with priceless jewels.
He was a high nobleman of the Kingdom of Rui: Count Maxwell Hardwin.
The Count was quietly watching the movement of private carriages through his window when the study door opened.
An hybrid wearing an immaculate butler’s uniform entered the room.
“My Lord, your faithful servant answers your call,” the domestic servant stated, bowing low.
Hardwin turned to face him.
“Raise your head, Balfour.
Yesterday, Susie confronted me… She was utterly hysterical.
What she revealed has deeply unsettled me, and I demand you rectify it.”
The butler stood upright, his gaze unwavering.
“My Lord, what could Lady Susie have said to cause you such distress?”
The Count paused.
He reached for a glass decanter on his desk, poured a heavy splash of red wine into a crystal glass, and took a slow sip before continuing.
“She wanted to know if I was being unfaithful… It so happens that for some time now, I have been traveling secretly to Gallé to meet with someone.
How Susie learned of this is beyond me.”
Balfour listened in silence, his expression unreadable.
“You know as well as I do that if I am to secure the presidency of the Chamber of Commerce, I must maintain an unblemished reputation.
Given Susie’s volatile temperament, if she uncovers the truth, she will file for divorce immediately.”
Hardwin offered the glass to his butler, who accepted it with a deferential bow.
“And… a divorce would hardly serve your interests, Master,” Balfour noted calmly.
“Precisely.
A divorced nobleman can be tolerated.
But a noble stripped of his standing due to public adultery?
It would be a catastrophic scandal.
I cannot afford to lose Susie; her family commands far too much leverage.
Which is why I need you to find out who fed her that information.”
Balfour downed the wine in a single smooth motion.
“And once the informant is exposed… what are your orders, Master?”
Hardwin stared into the empty crystal glass, his face darkening with cold, calculated resolve.
“The moment you locate him… bring him to me.”
“As you wish, My Lord.” The butler bowed deeply and backed out of the room.
Back on Gregory Island.
Narissa and Lucas pushed forward through the towering, primordial forest.
The young man was surprised to find no creatures impeding their path, and he was just beginning to let his guard down when a squad of goblins dropped down from the canopy, spears drawn to block their path.
“We don’t have time to fight them,” Narissa spat out.
“We break through!”
Surging forward with sudden speed, the Neïd signaled for Lucas to follow through the breach she was about to carve.
Drawing her knife, she executed a flawless, low-slung slide across the damp earth, slipping past the enemy line while slicing cleanly through the legs of the creatures in her path.
Coming out of the slide without losing a fraction of her momentum, she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure the boy was still with her.
Lucas hadn’t faltered.
Capitalizing on the gap Narissa had created, he had accelerated right behind her.
The surviving goblins scrambled to lower their spears to trap him, but the boy’s agility caught them completely off guard.
Planting his boot against the trunk of a tree and leaping fluidly to a second, Lucas executed a lightning-fast wall-bounce.
He vaulted cleanly over the enemy line and touched down beside Narissa without losing a stride.
After an hour of uninterrupted running, they finally burst through the treeline, coming to a halt at the precipice of a dizzying chasm.
On the far side of the abyss, the rocky trail resumed, but the gap was far too wide for a standard jump.
Lucas estimated that by channeling Fantasia into his legs, he could launch himself with immense power—yet he doubted it would be enough to clear a drop this massive.
All around them, a large crowd of anxious recruits had gathered.
Narissa stepped up to one of the candidates to assess the situation.
“You… Why is everyone just standing around here?”
The man turned around, his expression defeated.
“Look at this gap… It’s a dead end.
Nobody can jump across that.”
A prick of tension tightened in Narissa’s chest.
The drop was formidable, but she had assumed some reckless fool would have at least tried to find a way down.
Lucas stepped forward.
“Has anyone gone down to check for handholds or a path at the bottom?”
The man eyed the kid.
“Yeah.
One guy did.”
A flicker of hope cut through Lucas’s confusion.
“Who?”
“Some Grod.
Don’t know his name.
The lunatic threw himself into the void without blinking… Total suicide.”
Lucas immediately thought back to the flamboyant giant he had encountered earlier.
Meanwhile, at the bottom of the gorge, Chogo had been trekking through the dark for nearly an hour.
Parched and exhausted, the sudden, sweet sound of rushing water made his eyes snap wide.
He sprinted toward the noise, bursting out into a lush, hidden oasis fed by a towering waterfall.
Standing at the base of the falls was a woman.
Dressed in a crisp white shirt, fitted black trousers, wearing glasses and dark leather gloves, her long ears and stern expression left no doubt as to her identity: Commander Mélo.
She glanced at the battered Grod and gave him a silent nod to rest.
Flashing a triumphant grin, Chogo scrambled straight to the crystal-clear pool, gulping down mouthfuls of water before collapsing happily onto the soft grass.
Above, dusk was creeping across the high plateau.
Inspecting the edge of the abyss with intense focus, Lucas narrowed his eyes.
Relying on his sharp vision, he managed to spot what everyone else had missed—a massive canopy of thick greenery carpeting the floor of the dark ravines below.
He quickly turned back to Narissa.
“It’s safe.
We can go down.”
Nearby recruits turned their heads, skeptical and intrigued.
Narissa scrutinized the young man.
“Are you sure about this?”
Lucas gave a firm nod.
Together, they stepped right up to the drop.
Standing on the absolute edge, the boy stole one last glance at his partner and said simply:
“Let’s jump.”
Without giving doubt a chance to take root, both of them hurled themselves into the dark void right before the eyes of the stunned crowd.
A veteran man in his thirties watched the pair fall into the dark.
He froze for a second.
Then, driven by a sudden surge of adrenaline, he took a short running start and threw himself off the cliff right after them.
That single spark broke the psychological dam.
Swept up in a wave of collective madness, the remaining recruits began surging forward, hurling themselves en masse into the depths of the gorge.