For a cave, it was spacious—but in the end, it was still a cave, and Ares' greatsword was simply too large.
He had no choice but to abandon it and pull out a dagger, but it was a throwing knife, making its range far too short.
Meanwhile, the wind spirit was unrestricted by space.
Its elegant, green body darted through the air with irritating speed, slipping through the cave walls like a ghost.
For Ares, already deprived of oxygen, every aggressive movement only worsened his disadvantage.
“Ugh!”
He grit his teeth audibly and swung his blade.
If he could just kill the spirit master, it would all be over—but every time he tried to close the distance, the fierce winds shoved him back.
If his movements slowed, the bird attacked again, forcing him to retreat.
An endless cycle.
If he could just get a little closer, he could end it with a single strike—but that little was proving impossible.
To make matters worse, the spirit’s growth stunned him.
"It shouldn’t be this powerful."
Ares had already investigated potential threats long ago—he knew.
Minuet Bonetti’s skill was on par with the vice commander of the Imperial Knights.
Exceptional, surpassing her father, but still not enough to reach his level.
What had happened to her? Had she gained something from Whistle’s trials?
No—that wasn’t the issue right now.
"At this rate, I’m just wasting time."
If only he could take a single breath, even once—but oxygen wasn’t something he could see, making it impossible to grasp.
Then—
"You're starting to suffocate, aren’t you?"
Minuet, who had been silently observing, finally pulled something from her coat.
A small glass bottle.
Before Ares could even identify what it was, the bottle shattered upon impact with the ground, releasing a thick, violet smoke.
Poison.
Oxygen, invisible to the naked eye, now became visible through the toxic gas.
One meter away from him, the purple mist curled in the air.
Ares let out a bitter laugh.
Minuet Bonetti's message was crystal clear.
"If you want to breathe, you’ll have to inhale the poison too."
At this point, even he began to consider retreat.
He didn’t know what lay at the end of the cave, but it didn’t have to be today.
The prophecy had specified a time, not a date. So for now—
"Thinking of running away?"
"…"
"Don’t waste your energy. If I have to, I’ll bring this entire cave down to keep you here."
"Damn it."
Ares’ face turned pale.
Revealing his weakness was a mistake, but even knowing that, he couldn’t mask his twisted expression.
At the end of this cave lay His revelation.
Yet, there was no guarantee he’d obtain it if the entire place collapsed.
And with fear came another realization—how did Minuet Bonetti know his weakness so well?
More importantly, how had she anticipated his arrival here?
"How… did you know… I’d come here?"
"You didn’t even realize you were being tracked, did you? I’ve known for a long time that the Black Serpent Cult used this cave as a hideout."
"Tracked…?"
"Yes. By her."
Minuet's cloak shifted slightly, and from within, a small round bird poked out its head.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, Ares could barely sense its presence.
Shock struck him, but he had no choice but to accept it.
Even if he hadn’t directly confirmed the spirit’s existence, the fact remained—someone had followed him without him ever telling anyone his destination.
There was no other explanation.
Yet, despite everything, he could not bring himself to doubt the prophecy.
Perhaps it was the oxygen deprivation clouding his mind.
Or perhaps it was his sheer arrogance—he refused to believe that a child half his age had outmaneuvered him.
And so, as all fools do, he made a foolish decision.
His lungs burned, and he had made no progress.
If he didn’t want to die, he had to choose.
He had three options:
But for someone who had lived his entire life under indoctrination, there was only one choice.
"A little poison won't kill me!"
Ares lunged toward the toxic smoke, inhaling deeply.
It was only after the gas reached his lungs that he realized his fatal mistake.
The poison wasn’t merely toxic—it directly suppressed lung function.
"Too late to turn back now."
If this was the path, then he would sacrifice his flesh to claim his victory.
Forcing his body beyond its limits, he surged forward, drawing on every ounce of his mana.
He had three daggers.
Ares threw the first directly at Minuet Bonetti as he leapt.
The spirit deflected the attack and countered with suppression magic.
Ignoring his own safety, Ares let himself be slashed by the razor-sharp wind, then flung his second dagger straight into the cave ceiling.
A massive scythe-like gust came crashing toward him.
He dodged by leaping upward, seizing the embedded dagger to anchor himself.
Spinning midair, he pushed off the ceiling, yanked the blade free, and propelled himself toward Minuet.
As expected, the spirit unleashed another powerful gust.
Instead of resisting, Ares used the force to jump higher, embedding his second dagger into the ceiling once more.
The gap between them had narrowed.
For the first time, the young spirit master faltered.
Still hanging from the dagger, Ares pulled out the third.
Pouring so much mana into it that the blade cracked, he hurled it—not at her, but above her.
"Wha—?!"
BOOM.
A portion of the cave ceiling collapsed.
The cave was too cramped—the spirit couldn’t shield her from the falling boulders.
The moment the impact struck Minuet, the eagle spirit was forcefully unsummoned.
Oxygen—laced with poison—rushed back into the cave.
Some reward for victory.
"Hah… hah…"
Ares landed on the cave floor, gasping for breath.
His head spun from the poison, his muscles screamed from overexerting mana.
Even standing was a struggle.
But there was no time to rest.
Whether from the shock of the collapse or something else, the entire cave shuddered.
If he wasn’t careful—it could all come down on top of him.
Ares forced his unresponsive legs to move.
Even if he escaped the cave, he wouldn't survive in this state. He had only one thing left to rely on.
And yet, the fear of dying no longer surfaced.
Looking back, every decision he had made in this cave had been foolish.
But He had spoken.
[At the break of dawn, go to the cave where the Serpent's Venom Spring flows. There, you will find the result you seek.]
He knew everything.
He must have foreseen this outcome.
And if, despite that, He had given this revelation, then at the end of this road—Ares would not die.
Unlike his usual confident strides, his steps wavered dangerously. He stumbled, collapsed multiple times.
Eventually, he lost all feeling in his legs, forcing him to crawl forward.
He had no idea what lay at the end of this cave. What kind of result awaited him that would finally put his lifelong fear to rest.
But precisely because of that—his anticipation swelled beyond words.
His body was in agony, but his heart pounded with exhilaration.
And finally, he saw it.
A light seeping from the cave’s depths.
[You will find the result you seek.]
As he approached, even pain was forgotten.
His mind was filled with hope, his heart surged with joy.
Just a little further. Just a little more.
And when he finally reached his destination—
“The result I… sough…”
What filled his vision was a lake within the cave.
The light poured from a hole in the ceiling, barely the size of a child’s head.
The water was beautiful. Impossibly clear.
And so it reflected, without mercy, the dying man’s image.
A pitiful, broken figure with no chance of recovery.
“Ah.”
A hollow breath escaped his lips.
“I… was… dec—”
Before he could finish the sentence, his eyes closed.
The last thing Ares saw was his own death.
His head dropped limply.
Only then did I release my concealment and step forward.
His lifeless eyes remained open, his face frozen in the despair of his final moments.
"Serves you right."
How many had he killed?
Count Bonetti may have been a villain, but countless innocent people had suffered under him.
I felt no sympathy at all.
Still, I crouched beside him—for one reason only.
I gathered divine energy and carefully examined his corpse.
Soon, I felt a faint presence.
Its source—his left chest.
I pulled aside his shirt and infused more divine energy.
From his slowly stilling heart, a green key surfaced.
I pinched its edge and frowned.
First my upper palate, now his heart?
“Ugh, disgusting.”
The key was clean, but I shook my hands on instinct.
Hiding it inside his body to this extent—this was beyond paranoia.
But no, something else was even more incomprehensible.
Looking down at his miserable corpse, a question gnawed at me.
“…Why?”
I had deceived him.
But I never imagined he would believe so blindly.
I thought luring him here would be enough, but he had clung to those vague words all the way to his death.
What had he been so desperate for?
What had he been seeking?
Forget it.
I couldn't even fully understand the living—why waste time trying to comprehend the dead?
I shoved the thoughts aside and stood up.
With the key in my pocket, the reality of it sank in.
“This makes two.”
At this pace, two keys before winter ended—fairly quick progress.
If only Nigellia would hand over hers just as easily.
As I absentmindedly toyed with the key in my pocket, I sensed movement behind me.
A woman limped closer.
“You did well, Minuet.”
I reached out to support her, but she pulled away.
“I’m fine.”
"Hmm. Then should I heal you right away?"
“I haven’t even properly eaten the meal you prepared. Healing can wait.”
So harsh on herself.
“You’re the one who did all the work.”
“I got careless at the end. No—maybe it was inexperience. He almost escaped.”
“Hm. Overthinking every ‘what if’ and feeling unnecessary guilt? That’s not like you.”
“What?”
“Enjoy it. It’s done.”
“You…”
Taking advantage of her confusion, I swiftly grabbed her hand and pushed divine energy into her.
The power, as capable as its master, swept through her body in one smooth motion, erasing every trace of injury.
Ah, refreshing.