By midday, Rojan had stopped trying to guess how far they had traveled.
The Great Forest of Jura made distance difficult to judge.
The trees were wider than watchtowers, with roots that rose from the earth like stone walls.
Thick branches blocked most of the sunlight, leaving the forest floor covered in shifting patches of green and gold.
Vines hung between the trunks, and thin mist gathered in the lower valleys before disappearing whenever the wind changed.
Nothing in the forest remained still for long.
Small monsters had been following them for nearly an hour.
Rojan occasionally caught the flash of yellow eyes inside the bushes or heard claws scraping against bark.
Most of the creatures stayed hidden after sensing Aizen’s presence, but a few seemed either too hungry or too foolish to understand the danger.
A dark creature stepped between the trees ahead of them.
It resembled a wolf, though its jaw was much too large for its thin body.
Its ribs showed beneath its hide, and a line of dried blood covered one side of its mouth.
Two smaller beasts appeared behind it.
Rojan immediately raised his wand.
“Forest fangs,” he whispered.
“They normally travel in larger packs.”
Aizen continued walking.
The lead monster lowered its head and growled.
Rojan hurried forward and moved beside him.
“You should probably stop.”
Aizen glanced at him.
“Why?”
“They’re about to attack us.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“You sound like that doesn’t matter.”
“It matters greatly to them.”
Before Rojan could respond, the creature charged.
Rojan began forming a fire spell, but Aizen raised one finger before the magic circle could fully appear.
A small wave of spiritual pressure moved across the clearing.
The three monsters collapsed.
They were not thrown backward, and they did not cry out.
Their legs simply gave way beneath them as though an enormous weight had been placed across their bodies.
The lead beast struck the ground and began trembling.
Rojan stared at it.
“Did you kill them?”
“No.”
Aizen approached the creature.
It struggled to lift its head, but fear had replaced the hunger in its eyes.
Aizen crouched in front of it.
“Your body understood the danger before your mind did.”
The creature growled weakly.
Rojan lowered his wand.
“You know it can’t understand you, right?”
“That has not been proven.”
“It’s a low-level monster.”
“According to whom?”
Rojan opened his mouth, then slowly closed it.
Aizen extended one hand toward the creature.
The beast snapped at him.
Its jaws closed several inches to the left of his fingers.
Rojan frowned.
Aizen’s hand had never moved, but the monster had clearly seen it somewhere else.
Aizen shifted the illusion.
The beast’s eyes followed a false hand moving to the right.
Then its nose twitched, and its head turned back toward Aizen’s real position.
Aizen watched with interest.
“That was faster than expected.”
Rojan remained several steps away.
“What was?”
“I altered its sight, but its sense of smell corrected the illusion almost immediately.”
“You’re using starving animals to test your illusion magic?”
“I am learning how perception works in this world.”
The monster tried to stand.
Aizen reduced the pressure holding it down.
The creature pushed itself onto four shaking legs, but it did not attack again.
The two smaller monsters remained flat against the ground, watching him in terror.
Aizen looked into the leader’s eyes.
“Leave.”
The creature hesitated for a moment.
Then it turned and disappeared between the trees.
The other two followed without looking back.
Rojan watched them vanish.
“You let them live.”
“They gave me useful information.”
“That was the only reason?”
Aizen resumed walking.
“Were you hoping for an act of compassion?”
“I’m trying to work out whether you have any.”
Aizen looked ahead.
“Then you have chosen a difficult subject for a simple mind.”
Rojan frowned.
“Was that insult necessary?”
“No.”
“That makes it worse.”
A faint smile touched Aizen’s mouth.
Rojan followed him deeper into the forest.
After several minutes, he spoke again.
“Could you make me see something that isn’t really there?”
“Yes.”
“Have you already done it?”
Aizen continued walking without answering.
Rojan stopped.
Aizen took several more steps before looking back.
“What is it?”
“You ignored the question.”
“I heard it.”
“That still doesn’t answer it.”
Aizen waited.
Rojan tightened his grip on his wand.
“Have you used that ability on me?”
“Would an answer satisfy you?”
“It would if the answer was no.”
“Then you are not looking for the truth.
You are looking for reassurance.”
“I want to know whether the man I’m following has been changing what I see.”
Aizen turned fully toward him.
“You saw Cornu attack me.”
“Yes.”
“You watched the facility collapse.”
“Yes.”
“You saw me pull you from the ruins.”
Rojan’s expression slowly changed.
Aizen continued.
“You witnessed the Imperial soldiers attack us.
You saw them turn against one another, and you watched Commander Veyron escape.”
Rojan’s fingers tightened around the wand.
“Which parts were illusions?”
“That is not the useful question.”
“Then what is?”
Aizen’s eyes rested on him.
“Which parts made you decide to follow me?”
A cold feeling moved through Rojan despite the warmth of the forest.
“You arranged what I saw.”
“I did not say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Aizen turned and continued walking.
Rojan remained where he was.
“If none of it was real, then where are we?”
“The Great Forest of Jura.”
“How do I know that?”
“You recognize the plants, the density of the magicules, and the Storm Dragon’s presence.”
“You could be changing all of those things.”
“It is possible.”
Rojan raised his voice.
“How am I supposed to trust anything you say?”
Aizen stopped beneath an enormous tree and looked back at him.
His expression almost resembled patience.
“You are not.”
The answer silenced Rojan.
Aizen continued in a calmer tone.
“Trust is a decision to act as though uncertainty has already been resolved.
It is useful when constant suspicion would make cooperation impossible.”
“And you don’t want me to trust you?”
“I want you to understand why we are cooperating.”
“Then explain it.”
“You possess information I need, and I possess the strength to keep you alive.
At the moment, our interests overlap.”
“That sounds temporary.”
“All relationships are temporary.
Some simply last long enough for people to pretend otherwise.”
Rojan looked down at the wand in his hand.
The Empire had demanded loyalty while hiding the truth of the project.
Cornu had demanded obedience and then used researchers as fuel without hesitation.
Aizen offered no promise of friendship, loyalty, safety, or kindness.
Somehow, that honesty felt more dangerous than the lies.
Rojan began walking again.
“You could have just told me that you hadn’t altered my senses.”
“I could have.”
“But you chose not to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Aizen looked ahead.
“Because whether I deceived you matters less than whether you can continue functioning while knowing that I might.”
Rojan stared at his back.
“This is another test.”
“Everything is.”
They continued until the forest floor began to slope downward.
Aizen noticed the change before Rojan did.
The trees ahead had once been cut down.
Moss covered the old stumps, and younger trees had begun filling the empty spaces.
Beneath the vegetation, a narrow path of cracked stones ran through the forest.
Rojan crouched and brushed dirt from one of them.
“Humans built this.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe fifty years.
It could be older.”
Aizen examined the trees surrounding the road.
“Why was it abandoned?”
“Jura swallows settlements.
Roads disappear, monsters move into new territories, and the magicule levels can suddenly change.
Sometimes entire areas become impossible for humans to live in.”
“You speak as though the forest makes those decisions.”
“Some people believe it does.”
“Do you?”
Rojan stood.
“I’ve learned not to laugh at beliefs that keep people alive.”
Aizen followed the ruined road.
It eventually led them to the remains of a stone building buried beneath vines and tree roots.
Only one wall still stood.
A broken tower leaned against the trees, and weathered symbols covered the stone above the entrance.
Rojan approached carefully.
“This looks like an old observation station.”
“Imperial?”
“No.
The architecture is western.”
He pulled away a curtain of vines and uncovered a cracked stone plate.
Beneath the dirt was a faded emblem showing a winged staff surrounded by seven stars.
“Ingracian,” Rojan said.
“What is Ingracia?”
“It is one of the largest human kingdoms in the west.
The Freedom Association has its headquarters there, and it also has a major academy for magic.”
“The same organization led by Yuuki Kagurazaka.”
Rojan looked at him.
“You remembered that?”
“I heard it.”
“You heard it once.”
“That was enough.”
They entered the ruins.
Most of the roof had collapsed, but one inner room remained protected by a weak magical barrier.
Rojan dismantled it with a few careful movements of his wand.
Inside, they found broken furniture, ruined books, and a stone table covered in dust.
Several maps had been carved into the walls.
One showed the eastern side of Jura.
Another marked trade routes connecting the Eastern Empire, Dwargon, and several smaller human territories.
Rojan found a metal box beneath the stone table. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
The lock had rusted shut.
He raised his wand, but Aizen placed one hand on the lid and pulled.
The lock snapped.
Rojan lowered the wand.
“You could have let me do that.”
“Yes.”
Inside the box were several damaged journals, three identification plates, and a small pouch of old coins.
Rojan picked up one of the plates.
“These are Association credentials.”
“Are they still valid?”
“Not after this many years.”
Aizen took the plate and examined the engraved writing.
It belonged to an adventurer who had died decades earlier.
Taren Borel.
Human.
Magic researcher.
Silver rank.
“Explain the ranking system,” Aizen said.
Rojan leaned against the table.
“The Freedom Association ranks adventurers based on their strength, experience, and completed assignments.
The lower ranks handle weak monsters and simple local requests.
The higher ranks receive exploration missions, military contracts, and access to restricted information.”
“Is the system reliable?”
“Not entirely.”
Aizen looked at the plate again.
“Good.”
Rojan frowned.
“Why is that good?”
“An imperfect system creates room for movement.”
Aizen turned the plate over.
“Who confirms these identities?”
“Local Association branches.
Each plate contains a magical signature connected to the registered person.”
“Can the signature be changed?”
“Not easily.”
“That was not what I asked.”
Rojan sighed.
“Yes, it can be changed if the person knows how.”
“Do you?”
Rojan looked at him.
“I worked with summoned Otherworlders.
Creating false identities was part of my job.”
Aizen handed him the plate.
“Then create one.”
Rojan glanced down at it.
“For you?”
“For a person who resembles me.”
“What name should I use?”
Aizen looked toward the old maps carved into the wall.
His true name was already known to Cornu, Michael, Feldway, and the Eastern Empire.
Using it openly would force every encounter into the same story.
Aizen wanted several stories.
A traveling scholar could enter places that a foreign weapon could not.
An adventurer could ask questions without looking like a political threat.
A merchant could cross borders without anyone assuming he was gathering intelligence.
One identity would not be enough.
The first only needed to be believable.
“Seiren Voss,” Aizen said.
Rojan repeated the name quietly.
“Does it mean something?”
“No.”
“That is surprisingly simple for you.”
“A false name becomes more convincing when people assume it hides a deeper meaning.”
Rojan placed the identification plate on the table.
“What rank?”
“Low enough to avoid attention, but high enough to travel freely.”
“Bronze should work.”
“Then bronze.”
“What occupation?”
“Magic researcher.”
“That might attract questions.”
“That is the purpose.”
Rojan began drawing a magical formation around the plate.
His energy remained unstable after the summoning ritual, but his hands moved with practiced control.
Aizen watched each movement.
“You said you created identities for summoned people.”
“Yes.”
“What did the Empire use them for?”
“Some were sent into the Western Nations.
Others joined Imperial units under false backgrounds.”
“Did they know they were serving the Empire?”
“Not always.”
Aizen’s gaze remained on him.
Rojan continued working.
“We would summon them and keep them isolated until they learned the language.
Then we told them Imperial agents had saved them and gave them an enemy to blame.”
“What kind of enemy?”
“Whatever suited the mission.
A kingdom, a noble family, a criminal group, or sometimes the Western Church.”
“You created loyalty through gratitude.”
Rojan’s hands slowed.
“That was the plan.”
“What happened when gratitude stopped working?”
Rojan looked down at the plate.
“We used fear, magical contracts, or threats against people they cared about.”
“Domination.”
“Nothing like Michael’s authority.”
“The scale is different.
The principle is the same.”
Rojan looked up.
“Are you going to condemn me for it?”
“No.”
“That answer somehow feels worse.”
“I am more interested in knowing which methods succeeded.”
Rojan returned to the magical formation.
After several more adjustments, the symbols around the plate began to glow.
“Give me a small amount of your energy,” he said.
Aizen raised one hand.
Rojan quickly added, “A very small amount.”
Aizen released a thin thread of spiritual pressure.
The formation exploded.
Rojan was thrown backward and struck the wall.
The identification plate spun through the air and buried itself in a wooden beam.
Aizen looked at the ruined formation.
Rojan groaned and slowly sat up.
“I said small.”
“That was small.”
“Compared to what?”
“My full spiritual pressure.”
“That explanation does not help me.”
Aizen pulled the plate from the beam.
It had absorbed part of his energy, but the magical signature was unstable.
The local enchantment had interpreted his reiatsu as a huge concentration of corrupted magicules.
Rojan pushed himself to his feet.
“If anyone scans that plate, they’ll think Seiren Voss is a powerful majin pretending to be human.”
“Can you hide the signature?”
“Not unless I use another source.”
Aizen examined the plate.
The world had not completely translated his power yet.
That limitation could expose him.
It could also become another useful deception.
“Use your magical signature,” Aizen said.
Rojan stared at him.
“Then the plate will identify you as me.”
“Only to someone who already knows your signature.”
“The Empire has records of it.”
“The Empire will search for Rojan, not Seiren Voss.”
“They may compare the records.”
“Then change your record.”
Rojan laughed in disbelief.
“You’re saying that like the Imperial archive is sitting outside.”
“Is it impossible to access?”
“It is protected by military intelligence.”
“Then changing it will be even more valuable.”
Rojan shook his head.
“You arrived this morning, and you’re already planning to break into an Imperial archive.”
“I am considering several possibilities.”
“That does not make it less concerning.”
Rojan drew the formation again.
This time, he used his own magical signature but altered its outer shape to resemble the weak aura of a traveling scholar.
Aizen studied every movement.
By the time Rojan finished, he understood enough to recreate the technique himself.
The plate glowed once.
The old writing changed.
Seiren Voss.
Bronze-ranked adventurer.
Independent magical researcher.
Country of origin: Blumund.
Rojan handed it to him.
“I used Blumund because it is small and not closely monitored.
People pass through the kingdom often enough that one missing record might not attract attention.”
“Who rules it?”
“King Drum Blumund.
The country survives through trade, information, and careful diplomacy.”
“A small nation surrounded by stronger powers.”
“Yes.”
“Then its leaders probably understand the usefulness of appearing harmless.”
Rojan nodded.
“They usually know more than people expect.”
Aizen placed the identification plate inside his clothing.
“Good.”
Rojan looked around the abandoned station.
“What happens now?”
Aizen approached one of the carved maps.
A route ran west through Jura before turning south toward a small border settlement.
“People still use this road,” Aizen said.
Rojan joined him.
“It has been abandoned for decades.”
“The stones are covered, but the bushes along the eastern edge have been disturbed.
Six people passed through here within the last day.”
“Adventurers?”
“Possibly.”
“Imperial agents?”
“That is also possible.”
Aizen’s eyes moved toward the entrance.
“They are coming back.”
Rojan raised his wand.
“I don’t sense anyone.”
“You rely too much on magic.”
A moment later, faint voices reached the ruins.
Rojan moved behind the remaining wall.
“Hide,” he whispered.
“No.”
“You just created a false identity.”
“An identity is useless without witnesses.”
Footsteps approached the clearing.
Six people entered.
Four wore leather armor and carried Association identification plates.
One was a heavily built man with a large shield across his back.
Another was a young woman in a green cloak holding a staff.
The other two wore merchant clothing.
All six stopped when they saw Aizen.
The large adventurer rested one hand on his sword.
“Who are you?”
Aizen turned toward him.
“Seiren Voss.”
The name entered the Cardinal World for the first time.
Rojan watched from the shadows.
The woman with the staff narrowed her eyes.
“What are you doing inside an abandoned observation post?”
“Research.”
“Researching what?”
The adventurers exchanged looks.
The merchants appeared nervous.
The large man stepped closer.
“We saw part of the mountain collapse.”
“So did I.”
“Were you nearby?”
“Close enough to understand that staying there would have been unwise.”
The woman raised her staff slightly.
Magic gathered around the crystal at its tip.
“We felt an enormous spiritual presence appear and disappear.
Then an Imperial patrol crossed the old road.”
Aizen looked toward the two merchants.
One avoided his gaze.
The other held his right arm too close to his body.
A hidden weapon.
“Your group did not come here only to investigate the collapse,” Aizen said.
The large man frowned.
“You don’t know why we’re here.”
“You are protecting the two men behind you, but neither one carries enough supplies for a trip through Jura.
Their boots are Imperial military equipment covered with western leather.
The man on the left also has blood beneath his sleeve, even though no monster tracks enter this clearing.”
The adventurer’s grip tightened around his sword.
The merchants became still.
Aizen continued.
“You found an injured Imperial courier and agreed to escort him.”
The woman’s eyes widened slightly.
The large man glanced toward the disguised Imperials.
That one look was enough.
They had not entered the forest together.
The adventurers had found the two men and offered help, likely in exchange for money or information.
Now Aizen had given them a reason to question that decision.
One of the disguised Imperials spoke.
“This is none of your concern.”
Aizen looked at him.
“Then you should not have brought it into the room.”
The man drew a short blade from beneath his coat.
The adventurers reacted immediately.
The large man began drawing his sword, while the woman raised her staff.
From the shadows, Rojan started forming a spell.
Aizen remained still.
The Imperial pointed the blade at him.
“You’re coming with us.”
“Why?”
“You witnessed the collapse.”
“So did your commander.”
The man’s face changed.
It was only a small reaction, but Aizen saw the fear behind it.
He knew Veyron.
Or at least knew about the patrol.
The large adventurer looked toward him.
“What commander?”
The Imperial remained silent.
The woman moved away from him.
“You told us you were merchants who had been attacked by monsters.”
“We paid you for an escort.”
“You lied about who was chasing you.”
The trust within the group began breaking exactly as Aizen intended.
The second Imperial reached for his hidden weapon.
Aizen made sure everyone noticed the movement.
The large adventurer fully drew his sword.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“This does not involve the Association,” the Imperial said.
“It does if you dragged us into an intelligence operation.”
The woman looked toward Aizen.
“How do you know their commander?”
“I encountered one of his patrols.”
“Where?”
“Near the collapsed facility.”
Both Imperials looked at him sharply.
Aizen had offered them just enough truth.
The first man attacked.
He did not move toward Aizen.
He turned toward the woman with the staff, judging her to be the easiest hostage.
His blade moved toward her throat.
The large adventurer shouted a warning.
Aizen’s eyes shifted.
The Imperial suddenly saw the woman standing two steps farther to the right.
He changed the direction of his attack.
His blade struck his companion instead.
The second Imperial gasped as the weapon entered his side.
Everyone froze.
The attacker stared at what he had done.
Aizen crossed the distance and struck him once in the chest with the base of his palm.
The man collapsed.
The wounded Imperial fell beside him.
The woman looked from the two men to Aizen.
“How did you do that?”
“His attention was divided.”
“That wasn’t simple distraction.”
Aizen crouched beside the wounded man.
The blade had entered beneath his ribs.
The injury was serious, but not immediately fatal.
Aizen looked toward the woman.
“You know healing magic.”
“Yes.”
“Then use it.”
She hesitated.
“He just tried to kill me.”
“Now his life is in your hands.”
“That isn’t a reason to save him.”
“No.
It is a reason to think carefully before choosing.”
The large adventurer watched Aizen with open suspicion.
“You talk like a noble.”
“I am a researcher.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“It was the identity I gave you.”
Aizen met his gaze.
The man had enough experience to understand the wording.
It was not a lie.
It was not a confirmation either.
The woman finally knelt and began healing the wounded Imperial.
Her companions helped restrain the unconscious attacker.
Rojan stayed hidden behind the wall.
Aizen had not revealed his presence.
That created another useful possibility.
To the adventurers, Seiren Voss was traveling alone.
To the Empire, Aizen might still be accompanied by Rojan.
Two stories had already begun separating.
The large adventurer put away his sword.
“My name is Darven.
The healer is Lysa.
We’re registered out of Blumund.”
Aizen showed him the identification plate.
Darven looked at it and frowned.
“Bronze rank?”
“I registered recently.”
“You handled that attack too well for a bronze adventurer.”
“Ranks describe recorded experience, not ability.”
Darven studied him.
“That sounds like something a powerful adventurer says when he wants to hide.”
“Then you should decide which explanation creates fewer problems for you.”
Darven laughed once.
“I don’t think I like you.”
“That has not prevented us from cooperating.”
Lysa continued healing the injured Imperial.
“What happened beneath that mountain?”
Aizen looked toward the east.
This would become the first story the Western Nations heard about the disaster.
He could tell them about Cornu, Michael, Feldway, and the summoning ritual.
Too much truth would focus every major power on him.
A smaller lie would encourage investigation while keeping the true situation hidden.
“An Imperial experiment failed,” Aizen said.
“Something they summoned escaped.”
Darven’s face hardened.
“What did they summon?”
Aizen allowed a short silence to pass.
“Something they could not control.”
Rojan watched from the shadows.
He understood immediately.
Aizen had not denied being the summoned creature.
He had simply introduced himself as a witness.
When the story spread, the Freedom Association would search for a monster while Seiren Voss became the helpful researcher who had survived near the incident.
Lysa looked toward the trees.
“Do you think it entered Jura?”
“Most likely.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Aizen smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
There was no deception in that answer.
Darven looked at his companions.
“We need to take these men to the nearest Association branch.”
“The Empire may try to recover them,” Aizen said.
“Then come with us and give your report.”
Aizen appeared to consider the offer, though it had been his desired outcome from the moment the group entered the ruins.
“Very well.”
Rojan’s eyes widened from behind the wall.
If Aizen left with the adventurers, what was Rojan supposed to do?
Aizen glanced briefly toward the ruined tower.
The movement looked meaningless to everyone else.
Rojan followed his gaze.
A simple mark had appeared in the dust beside the wall.
A line pointing north.
An instruction.
Rojan looked back at Aizen.
He had not seen him create it.
Perhaps it had been there before.
Perhaps he had only been made to believe it had not.
The uncertainty no longer froze him.
That had been Aizen’s first lesson.
Rojan waited while the adventurers secured their prisoners and left the ruins.
Aizen walked among them as Seiren Voss, a bronze-ranked magical researcher from Blumund.
He never looked back.
After the group disappeared along the old road, Rojan emerged from the shadows.
A second mark waited beneath the first.
Three circles.
It was an Imperial magical intelligence symbol used to mark a temporary dead drop.
A location had been encoded beside it.
Rojan understood the task.
He was supposed to travel north and find the Imperial outpost before reports of the mountain collapse reached it.
Once inside, he could alter the records tied to his own magical signature and create evidence that Seiren Voss had existed for years.
Aizen had given him no direct command.
Rojan could still go south.
He could surrender to the Freedom Association or disappear into the forest.
However, changing the Imperial records would give him access to the Empire’s response.
He could learn who Cornu contacted, how the disaster was being explained, and whether the surviving researchers had been blamed.
Aizen had correctly predicted which desire would defeat Rojan’s fear.
It was not revenge.
It was not even survival.
It was the need to know.
Rojan erased the marks with his boot.
Then he began walking north.
Miles away, Aizen listened as Darven explained the location of the nearest Association branch.
Lysa asked him questions about magical research while the two Imperial prisoners remained silent.
The false identification plate rested inside Aizen’s clothing, carrying Rojan’s altered signature.
Seiren Voss now had witnesses, an official report waiting to be written, and a history that would soon be forged inside the Imperial archives.
By nightfall, his name would appear in Freedom Association records.
By the end of the week, Imperial intelligence would find evidence suggesting that Seiren Voss had traveled through Blumund months before Aizen arrived in the Cardinal World.
When the Empire eventually began searching for the creature that escaped from beneath the mountain, Seiren Voss would offer to help them understand it.
The first mask had been created.
Aizen walked beneath Jura’s ancient trees while his new companions spoke around him.
None of them realized that the escaped creature had already joined their investigation.
That was understandable.
People rarely suspected the witness who helped them name the threat.