Chapter 239 238 (Part 1)

Night itself became Lock's ally.

The moon was veiled by drifting clouds, the darkness thick enough to swallow outlines and distort distance. For Lock, this environment felt familiar—almost comforting.

With a light bend of his knees, he sprang upward.

His body cleared the wall in a single, fluid motion. Hands caught the edge silently, arms pulling him over with effortless control. He landed inside the base without a sound, his feet touching the ground as gently as falling ash.

No alarms.

No patrols.

This section had been chosen carefully in advance.

Lock paused for half a second, scanning his surroundings. The dim lantern light cast long shadows across the ground. No movement. No footsteps. No voices.

He reached up and tapped the wall twice.

A moment later, Ymir appeared.

She climbed swiftly, dropping down—and before she could stabilize herself, Lock caught her instinctively. His arms closed around her shoulders and back, steady and firm.

For a split second, neither of them moved.

"Put me down," Ymir whispered sharply, keeping her voice low.

In the pale moonlight, her face was unmistakably flushed.

Lock, however, was already focused elsewhere. His eyes swept the surrounding area, alert for any sign of disturbance. Only after confirming there was none did he lower her gently to the ground.

He turned immediately and began moving along the predetermined route.

Ymir followed, her expression still tight.

"…Marley's defenses are way too lax," she murmured after dodging another patrol with ease. "This doesn't even feel like a real military base."

Lock didn't respond right away.

He remained fully alert, eyes constantly adjusting, ears catching even the faintest sound.

At that moment, a familiar mechanical tone echoed within his mind.

Ding.

The host remains highly focused and demonstrates advanced infiltration techniques. Stealth proficiency increased by 1.

Lock suppressed a smile.

Not a bad gain, he thought.

Aloud, he said quietly, "Don't overthink it. The more relaxed Marley is, the better for us."

He glanced at Ymir briefly.

"Our goal tonight is simple. Destroy the armory and take whatever weapons and equipment we can carry. When I need your help—don't hesitate."

Ymir snorted softly.

"Have I ever disappointed you?"

Lock paused, then answered honestly.

"Not yet. I hope you keep it that way."

He didn't linger. His footsteps became even lighter as he moved forward, each step placed with absolute precision.

Ymir noticed immediately.

Earlier, he hadn't moved like this.

Now, it was as if his presence itself had faded.

His steps made no sound at all, like a predator gliding through tall grass.

She stared at his back, stunned.

Was he always capable of this…?

Then she shook her head.

"Forget it," she muttered internally. "Comparing myself to this monster is just asking to feel useless."

She quickened her pace and followed closely.

After several minutes, Lock suddenly raised his hand.

Ymir froze instantly.

Lock slipped into the shadow cast by a nearby building, his form blending into the darkness as if it belonged there. In a blink, he sprinted forward and reached the base of a watchtower.

Without using any tools, he climbed straight up, fingers and toes finding purchase with terrifying efficiency.

At the top, two Marleyan soldiers leaned against the railing, bored voices drifting down.

"Guarding a tower at night is the worst," one complained. "Nothing ever happens."

"Yeah," the other laughed. "Back then, a few Eldians used to sneak close out of curiosity. At least we could have some fun shooting at them."

"Hah. Those dogs learned their lesson. Now they don't even come near during the day."

"You're saying it like you didn't enjoy it."

"As if you didn't."

"Hey, speaking of money—let's hit the market tomorrow. We're short lately. We can always collect some 'protection fees.'"

The first soldier turned—

And froze.

A shadow stood before him.

Before his brain could process what he was seeing, a sharp crack echoed softly.

His neck twisted at an impossible angle.

The second soldier didn't even have time to gasp.

Lock's hand struck cleanly, snapping bone with surgical precision.

Both bodies collapsed without a sound.

"Trash," Lock thought coldly.

He didn't waste time.

Lock retrieved the rifle from the fallen soldier, propped both corpses against the railing to mimic their previous posture, and descended the tower just as silently.

Ymir watched from below, her eyes wide.

She said nothing.

Together, they moved on.

One watchtower.

Then another.

And another.

Each time, Lock repeated the same process—swift ascent, silent execution, careful placement.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the armory, seven watchtowers had gone quiet.

No alarms.

No suspicion.

The armory loomed ahead—large, squat, heavily reinforced.

Two guards stood at the entrance.

Snap.

Two precise strikes.

Both men dropped before their weapons even left their shoulders.

Lock gestured for Ymir to remain outside.

She nodded and took a position near the door.

Inside, the warehouse stretched wide—nearly a thousand square meters. Crates were stacked in orderly rows. Rifles, ammunition, explosives, and spare equipment filled the space.

Several guards lay sleeping between crates.

Lock didn't hesitate.

He moved like a shadow through the aisles.

No screams.

No struggle.

When he was finished, the warehouse was silent.

He selected lightweight pistols and compatible ammunition—easy to carry, easy to distribute. He stacked them near the entrance, then began working methodically.

The armory contained plenty of ammunition.

Plenty of explosives.

Creating an ignition source was effortless.

Once everything was set, Lock stepped back and signaled Ymir to enter.

She glanced around the warehouse, then at the carefully arranged charges.

"…I didn't know you knew how to handle explosives," she said, impressed.

Lock gave a faint smile.

He pointed to the sorted weapons.

"Take what we can carry. The rest—we destroy."

"Understood."

Ymir hesitated.

Her fingers tightened slightly.

"Lock… once I transform here, there's no going back."

Her voice was low.

"For a long time after this, as long as we stay in Marley, we'll be hunted without pause."

She met his eyes.

"Think carefully."

Lock smiled—not recklessly, but with quiet certainty.

"From the moment we left Paradis Island," he said, "there was no turning back."

Ymir stared at him.

Then she laughed softly.

"You really are impossible."

She shook her head.

"My life's probably going to be ruined by you sooner or later."

Lock's gaze hardened—not with anger, but resolve.

"I won't allow you to die," he said firmly, "before you witness the rise of Paradis Island."

"Before you see the Eldians gain freedom."

"Before you see the Marley Empire collapse."

The intensity in his eyes made Ymir's breath hitch.

Her face flushed again.

"…Then thank you," she whispered.

She didn't say anything more.

Ymir drew a knife.

She inhaled deeply.

And cut her palm.

For an instant—

Silence.

Then—

Lightning tore through the night.

A blinding flash erupted from the warehouse, illuminating the base like a second sun.

The ground shook.

The sky roared.

The transformation light pierced the darkness, instantly drawing the attention of every Marleyan soldier within the base.

"What—?!"

"That light—!"

"A Titan?!"

"A Titan transformation inside the base?!"

"Who would dare transform here?!"

"That direction—it's the armory!"

"Oh no—this is bad!"

Shouts erupted.

Alarms began to blare.

Soldiers scrambled from barracks, weapons half-equipped, panic spreading like wildfire.

And at the heart of it all—

The armory.

And the Titan rising within.

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