The deadly game of cat-and-mouse forced Saile deeper into the darkest parts of Valerius. He crept quietly through the twisting, filthy back alleys of the frontier city. The air here smelled heavily of rotting garbage, stale water, and damp stone. The heavy shadows hid him well from the main roads, but the loud sounds of armored boots marching nearby kept him completely on edge.
"Your little F-Rank disguise is not going to save you today," Naicul warned darkly inside Saile’s mind. "That disguise only hides your surface mana from basic testing crystals. The Gold-Rank Executor is actively sweeping the city with a Godslaying compass. When he gets close enough, that compass will point directly to the EX-Rank core hiding inside your chest."
Saile gritted his teeth. He pressed himself tightly against a pile of rotting wooden crates.
"Then how do I stop it from finding me?"
"You cannot," Naicul stated bluntly. "Unless you do exactly what I tell you to do."
Before Saile could ask what the God meant, heavy footsteps echoed at the end of the narrow alley.
Saile froze.
Two Church guards rounded the corner, blocking his path entirely. They wore heavy silver chainmail and held long, sharp spears. The System scanned them quickly.
They were Level 25.
They were not strong enough to kill him in a fair fight, but if they yelled for backup, the Gold-Rank Executor would arrive in seconds.
"Hey! You there!" the lead guard shouted loudly. He pointed his heavy spear directly at Saile’s chest. "Stop moving! Get your hands out of the shadows!"
Saile did not panic. His brown eyes hardened with cold determination.
He absolutely could not use his EX-Rank dark mana. He could not use his Divine Strike skill. The sudden burst of dark lightning would instantly alert the holy compass tracking him.
He had to finish this using pure, silent physical combat.
"Phantom Step," Saile whispered perfectly under his breath.
Boom!
A muffled, localized sonic boom cracked in the narrow alley. Saile turned into a blurry, vibrating shadow.
He vanished completely from his spot, moving with terrifying speed.
The lead guard gasped in shock, wildly thrusting his long spear forward into empty space. The sharp metal scraped heavily against the stone wall, sending bright sparks flying into the dim light.
Saile appeared instantly on the stone wall to the guard’s right. He planted his boots firmly against the brick and executed a flawless wall-run.
He took two rapid steps horizontally along the wall, completely avoiding the sharp spear tips. He launched himself off the stone, diving right over the heads of the two confused guards.
While hanging upside down in the air, he twisted his hips sharply.
He unleashed a devastating aerial twist kick.
Smack!
His heavy boot caught the first guard right in the back of the iron helmet.
A visible shockwave exploded from the brutal impact. The sheer physical force of Saile’s Level 22 strength crushed the helmet inward.
The guard flew forward, crashing face-first into the dirt, instantly knocked unconscious.
Saile landed smoothly in a tight shoulder-roll recovery, bouncing right back to his feet behind the remaining man.
The second guard spun around in total panic, swinging his long spear clumsily in a wide, desperate arc.
Saile dropped into a low, tight crouch, dodging smoothly under the wooden shaft. He planted his left hand on the dirt and whipped his right leg around in a rapid, lightning-fast spin sweep.
His boot slammed brutally into the back of the guard’s knees.
The man’s stance broke completely.
As the guard fell backward, Saile popped up from his sweep.
He threw his entire body weight forward into a heavy, rising right uppercut.
Crack!
His fist connected cleanly with the falling guard’s chin.
The wind shrieked locally as the man was lifted inches off the ground by the blow. His eyes rolled back into his head before he hit the dirty alley floor with a heavy thud.
Saile breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling.
He had taken down two Level 25 guards in less than ten seconds without shedding a single drop of blood or using his dark magic.
"Soft," Naicul complained in his mind. The God sounded deeply annoyed. "You should have snapped their necks. You leave enemies alive, and they always come back to bite you."
"I am not a murderer," Saile replied firmly.
He grabbed the two heavy bodies by their silver armor and dragged them behind the stack of rotting wooden crates, hiding them completely from sight. He picked up his stolen steel sword and wiped a thick streak of sweat from his forehead.
Suddenly, the ground trembled violently beneath his boots.
Saile froze in place.
He looked up at the narrow strip of sky above the alley.
A massive wave of pure, blinding gold light shot upward from the center of the city.
The Gold-Rank Executor was actively unleashing his S-Rank holy aura, pressing his overwhelming power down on every single street, alley, and building in Valerius.
The heat in the air became absolutely unbearable.
It felt like standing inside a burning oven.
"He is sweeping the city right now," Naicul warned darkly. "The compass is searching. We have seconds before he finds us."
"What do I do?" Saile asked urgently, pressing his back flat against the cold brick wall.
"You need to lock your core," Naicul instructed.
The God abandoned his sarcastic tone entirely, acting like a strict, demanding instructor.
"I will teach you an ancient, agonizing breathing technique. It will completely suffocate your mana flow and hide my soul from his compass. But it will hurt more than anything you have ever felt."
"Tell me how," Saile thought back quickly, clenching his fists.
"Breathe in slow," Naicul commanded. "Push the air down past your lungs. Wrap your physical muscles around your mana core. Now, squeeze."
"Breathe through the pain, boy, or the S-Rank zealots will burn you at the stake," Naicul warned coldly.
Saile followed the instructions.
He took a slow, shaky breath.
He focused entirely on the center of his chest. He imagined his ribs contracting inward, crushing down forcefully on his own heart.
A sudden, blinding pain ripped through his body.
It felt like a hot iron spike was being driven straight through his chest.
Saile choked, his hands flying to his shirt. He clamped his teeth together to stop himself from screaming out loud.
"Keep squeezing!" Naicul ordered brutally.
Saile groaned quietly, sinking down to his knees in the filthy alley. His vision swam with dizzying black spots. Sweat poured down his face in thick rivers.
His lungs felt like they were shrinking.
The heavy, dark mana inside him fought aggressively against his control, desperate to leak out and fight the holy light.
He fought a brutal war inside his own body.
He forced his muscles to crush his own EX-Rank mana core into a tiny, completely dormant point.
It was pure physical torture.
The golden light of the Executor’s aura washed over the alleyway. It washed over the rotting crates, the dirt, and Saile’s shaking body.
Saile held his breath.
He squeezed his core so hard he tasted fresh blood in his mouth.
Heavy, armored footsteps approached the entrance of the alley.
A massive shadow fell over the dirt.
The Gold-Rank Executor stood there, holding the dark metal compass.
The glowing needle spun wildly for a second.
Then, it stopped.
It pointed away from the alley, aiming toward the northern city gate instead.
"Nothing here," the Executor’s deep voice grumbled to his men. "The Heretic is moving. Search the northern district!"
The heavy footsteps quickly marched away.
The blinding gold light slowly faded from the sky, leaving the alley in shadow once again.
Saile collapsed onto his side in the dirt. He let go of his breath, gasping desperately for air.
The terrible, crushing pain in his chest slowly receded, leaving his entire body feeling like a bruised, empty shell.
The sheer physical toll of the ancient technique left him completely exhausted.
He could barely lift a single finger.
"You did it," Naicul whispered quietly.
Saile closed his eyes.
They had survived the targeted sweep, avoiding the lethal threat of the Executor.
But the brutal experience proved one thing:
They were forced into a reluctant cooperation just to stay alive.