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Alright.

Lynch truly had not expected things to turn out this way—the hero everyone sang praises about was actually...

No wonder he showed no interest in battling Diego, nor did he react when witnessing the destruction of his life’s work.

Order itself had crumbled at his hands. How could anyone hope for him to reestablish it?

...

Grant returned to his room without having dinner. He likely didn’t want to show his face in front of his forr companions, but given the outrage in the hallway earlier... Lynch also thought it might be better for him to avoid showing up here.

After a simple dinner, Lynch also went back to his room.

He had been assigned to the tower on the castle’s eastern side. Below it seed to be the castle’s blacksmith workshop. For whatever reason, they stayed up late working—lights burned bright, and the clanging of talwork rang relentlessly.

Lynch initially intended to quietly read for a while, but the noise frustrated him to the point where he could no longer focus. He decided to go down and see what was happening.

Standing before the workshop door, he pushed it open and stepped inside, quickly taking in the scene before him.

Dozens of blacksmiths were sweating profusely as they busied themselves. When Lynch caught sight of what was being forged on the furnaces, he couldn’t help but pause for a mont.

’This is...?’

"Who are you? What are you doing here!"

A blacksmith quickly noticed Lynch by the door and approached with a hamr raised high.

It looked like conflict was about to erupt, but just then, a figure walked in—it was soone Lynch had seen earlier: Griss.

"Master Griss, this person..."

Griss said, "It’s alright, he’s my guest."

The blacksmith’s attitude softened imdiately.

Griss turned to Lynch and said, "Apologies, Mr. Lynch. Everyone has been quite busy lately, so their tempers are a bit short."

"Oh."

Lynch snapped back to reality, asking curiously, "You’re preparing for..."

Griss confird Lynch’s guess: "The next round of boundary negotiations is imminent. Over these thousand years, Ramos Duchy has developed into quite a substantial domain. While it may be nothing compared to the Shadow Tower, for Wizard Organizations like ours, it’s undoubtedly a tempting piece of at."

Over a thousand years, Ramos Duchy had grown into a relatively complete human settlent. At its peak, it boasted a population of millions. Although it had declined significantly in recent years, tens of thousands—or even hundreds of thousands—were still crowded within its borders.

For smaller Wizard Organizations, occupying such a place ant access to a continuous flow of apprentices. And with apprentices, Wizard Organizations could perpetually advance upward.

After pausing for a mont, Griss asked, "By the way, I haven’t had the chance to ask you yet—will you be participating in this round of the Blood Moon War, Mr. Lynch?"

Lynch thought for a mont, responding, "I’m not sure yet..."

Griss’s expression turned more solemn. "If you do join... where will you stand? Order or Chaos?"

Lynch didn’t hesitate: "Order."

Somda’s teachings may have carried so truth, but Lynch remained firmly convinced that even the worst version of order was better than having no order at all.

Griss breathed a sigh of relief.

He laughed and said, "Haha, that’s excellent news. Soone like you... certainly wouldn’t be a foe I’d want!"

Lynch gave Griss a puzzled glance. "Do we know each other?"

Counting everything, Lynch had only demonstrated a single low-level spell, Wind Summon, in front of Griss. While it clarified that he was a High-level Apprentice, such a minimal display shouldn’t warrant such a strong reaction—especially since Griss’s Spiritual Field clearly outperford Lynch’s.

Griss smiled faintly, explaining: "You managed to eliminate a Black Wizard Apprentice during your Low-level Apprentice period, inadvertently involved yourself in the Tavendish family’s power struggle during your Mid-level Apprentice years, and escorted their young lady Avery Tavendish across Ramos Duchy to the Shadow Tower."

"You toppled the Blood Origin Cult and the Ausen Giant Python on Ghost Island, broke through intense sieges in Gray Town, eliminated William Heim of the Undead Castle, overturned Luwa Tavendish’s Heavenly Net, and even Barton from Shadow Swamp t his end at your hands."

He listed Lynch’s remarkable achievents one by one, then chuckled lightly. "The Miracle Boy, Mr. Lynch Valen—I didn’t miss anything, did I?"

Lynch opened his mouth slightly.

This guy...

His expression turned serious almost instantly. "Who exactly are you?"

That earlier mission of escorting Avery to the Tower was shrouded in secrecy due to its connections to the Tavendish family’s power struggle. The Tower didn’t publicize it, and even within the Tower itself, only a handful of apprentices knew about his involvent.

Yet the apprentice standing before him could recount these unknown details as if reading from an open book. This was far from normal.

Griss quickly reassured him: "No need to be alard, Mr. Lynch."

After pausing, he elaborated: "While your deeds were bound by confidentiality agreents, Miss Avery’s unique status has made her prior experiences a topic of great interest within Wizard Families. I happen to have connections with so of these families and coincidentally heard about your contributions."

Coincidentally? Ha!

Even Graham—who was a Pureblood from the Shadow Tower’s local domain—remained half in the dark about Lynch’s past exploits.

This guy’s... identity clearly wasn’t simple.

Lynch didn’t believe for a second that this was just an ordinary apprentice from a relatively obscure Wizard Organization.

Griss sighed, adding quietly, "It really is..."

He said innocently, "In any case, please, Mr. Lynch, believe —I truly an no harm. I simply wanted to introduce myself and get acquainted ahead of ti."

"After all, we won’t be enemies—we might even fight side by side in the future..."

...

Early next morning, Lynch and his group set out for the Confession Forest. Located roughly twenty miles east of Hawk Castle, deep within the forest stood an ancient oak tree—the Confession Tree of Hawk Castle.

Hawk Castle had long upheld the tradition of confession. The people of this territory would co here periodically to unburden their hearts and release their emotions. Over ti, this tree naturally gave rise to the Confession Heart.

This was sothing Lynch had read about before when studying the customs and culture of the Seven Kingdoms. Various illustrated resources at the Tower also indicated that the Confession Heart could indeed be collected here.

By the ti they arrived at the Confession Forest, it was still morning. It was an overcast day, with a gloomy sky that carried a stifling sense of oppression.

"This is it."

The group stopped in a clearing deep in the forest. In the center of the clearing stood an ancient oak tree that looked like it had weathered countless years. Its trunk was marked by a large hollow.

Lynch pointed toward the hollow and said, "Confess."

Before extracting the Confession Heart, there was one final step required: declaring one’s sins so the Confession Heart could be imbued with their spiritual power, enabling it to cleanse their soul afterward.

Grant strode forward. His long chanical arm grasped the tree trunk as his towering fra bent down, bringing his face level with the hollow.

Lynch perked up his ears, listening closely.

He was genuinely curious—what would this Grant confess? After all, this was soone with an extraordinary and mysterious past.

Would he admit to heinous acts? Renounce broken vows? Or confess to betraying his nation?

After a lengthy silence, Grant finally spoke.

"None."

His voice was soft yet resolute:

"I have no sins!"

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