Novel Full Chapter 835: 835: Solo Mission
Chapter 835: Chapter 835: Solo Mission
Kain’s words slipped out before he could stop them. “So, Darius and the others finally found the Knight…”
Cherry froze while fussing over his hit face, “The what now?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone.
Kain blinked, realizing too late that he’d spoken aloud. “Nothing important,” he said quickly, but then half-muttered again as if reading something, “…but they want to take care of him themselves?”
Cherry frowned. “Take care of who? What are you mixed up in this time?”
Kain waved her off, feigning nonchalance. “Just talking to myself. Don’t worry about it.”
Her glare deepened, but she didn’t push further. Still, the unease on her face said enough—she was scared. Scared of whatever dangerous thing her brother was once again entangled in.
Inside, Kain wasn’t nearly as calm as he pretended.
A Knight of Black Dawn. Even the name carried weight and based on the memories stolen from Airalai, they were members well known for their same-level combat skills. There’s not even a guarantee that Kain would be able to take him down alone.
Darius, Jax, Malzahir—they were competent, but a 6-star Knight? That was something else entirely. The sheer gap in strength was like a canyon. A contract of that level could raze half of Dark Moon City if not stopped by the College’s professors.
Were they perhaps planning to poison him in some way? But even that would be hard. Beast tamers have phenomenal instincts and would likely sense the danger of a poison strong enough to kill them, not to mention they’d be on guard against unfamiliar beast-tamers.
He knew Darius and the others had trained to use Veil of the Hidden Star, the spiritual power concealment technique he’d gotten for Gabriel and the Director that made even powerful tamers harder to sense. Yet, somehow, the Knight never crossed their paths as if he was avoiding them. Did he have some higher form of detection? Something beyond the skills even Kain knew about?
Kain exhaled. He wanted to interfere. To step in and shoulder the risk himself. But he couldn’t—not if he wanted this organization to grow beyond his shadow and actually be of use to. He had to let them try, even if it felt like handing them a death sentence. Still, he resolved that if things spiralled too far, he would be there in the dark, watching.
As for something powerful enough to take down the Knight…
His thoughts drifted as he allowed his consciousness to drift to Pangea. To a locked shelf in his lab. A ‘failure’.
The bacteria he’d engineered using the Genetic Reconstructor once in an attempt to accelerate fermentation. Instead, it mutated, producing a toxic byproduct deadly to anything infused with spiritual energy. It had been useless commercially—dangerous, unstable, uncontrollable. Naturally he’d sealed it away.
But now…
“For poison,” he murmured, “this might be the one thing capable of harming a 6-star beast tamer.”
And due to it only releasing this toxin when in contact with spiritual power, it is pretty much indetectable and harmless until digested…
Cherry watched in confusion as Kain went still, his mind drifting into the lab where shelves of samples lined the walls. His hand hovered, then opened a sealed compartment. Vials of liquid in various colours gleamed faintly, the bacteria suspended inside, before finally settling on one harmless looking colourless vial.
He briefly checked the notes beneath the vial:
>Harmless to non-spiritual organisms.
>Devastating to spiritual pathways, more so the stronger they were.
>Likely ineffective against 7-star tamers or indigo-grade spiritual creatures who could forcibly purge it with domain energy.
>Unstable. Quick to mutate. Indiscriminate once unleashed.
It wasn’t a weapon—it was a plague in waiting.
Could he really risk giving this to Darius?
…
“Kain?”
Cherry’s voice jolted him. He blinked, realizing he was still standing in her room, vial now in hand. His sister stood in front of him now holding the hairbrush that hit his face, arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed at the vial that suddenly appeared. “Seriously, what the hell is going? You’re pulling random bottles out of your space ring and muttering about poison like some mad scientist.”
Kain coughed, hiding the vial, which Cherry assumed came from his space ring, behind his back. “It’s… complicated.”
Cherry rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. Everything with you is complicated. First Gabriel starts keeping secrets, now you too. Do either of you even remember I exist?”
Her words bit deeper than she knew. Kain managed a crooked smile. “Hey, I remember. You’re unforgettable.”
“You’re like a mad scientist,” she repeated, jabbing a finger at him. “Or just mad. Probably both.”
Her annoyance was genuine, but the hurt beneath didn’t escape him. He forced a laugh, though guilt gnawed at him—his family surely noticed his secrets, but chose not to ask.
———-
That night, he sat in silence, turning the vial in his fingers. If he gave it to Darius, maybe they’d succeed. Maybe. But if it mutated, if they mishandled it, if it spread beyond control—they could die. Innocents all across the city could die. And the blame would be his.
If he didn’t give it… the Knight remained free. His presence was constantly hanging over their heads like a sharp blade ready to decapitate them.
‘No use in debating about it with myself…’
Kain activated his token, connecting to Darius. His message was vague, phrased carefully:
“I have something experimental that might work. Dangerous. Unstable. If you choose to use it, weigh the risks. Don’t expect miracles.”
Minutes crawled before a reply came. Darius’ response was flat, unreadable: Understood.
But beneath those words, Kain couldn’t shake the unease. Had he just handed his allies a weapon—or a curse?
But a moment later, just when he thought the communication channel with Darius had closed, another message came in. And along with it a lot of information Kain did not expect…
Darius, emboldened by Kain’s involvement, decided to confide in him. To reveal the truth about the recruits. That they were the ones being sent after the Knight.
Kain froze at the admission. His first reaction was anger—furious disbelief that Darius would gamble with the lives of ordinary people. Moreover, these ordinary people are a lot more likely to give themselves away. But then, as he turned it over in his mind, the logic sharpened.
The Knight would never suspect ordinary men and women. He’d be wary of Darius. Of Jax. Of Malzahir. But unawakened faceless recruits? They might slip past his guard.
Not to mention the vial of ‘poison’ (bacteria), wasn’t that dangerous to those with minimal spiritual power, decreasing the chances of a self-endangering mishap occurring
So in a grim, twisted way… they might stand the best chance.
————
Ronan rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tied the soup shop apron around his thin waist. The logo stitched in bright thread—The Silver Spoon—mocked him with its cheeriness. How did he end up here?!
At the insistence of his “teammates,” he’d gone back to the soup shop with them under the cover of night, Darius leading them all in masks. Ronan had tried to dismiss the whole thing. “Just because he came here once doesn’t mean he’ll come again,” he’d argued weakly.
“True,” Darius had said evenly, leading Ronan to believe that was the end of it.
Unfortunately…
The next morning, Ronan woke to a notification in his personal email when he checked his phone: Congratulations, you have been hired as the newest employee of The Silver Spoon.
Ronan nearly threw the phone across the room. Hired?! How?! He hadn’t applied for anything, hadn’t interviewed, hadn’t agreed to anything. How’d they even get his email address?! And yet here he was, now sweeping floors, ladling broth, and wiping down tables like it was his destiny.
“Why me?” he muttered bitterly as he stacked bowls.
The answer, of course, came from Darius.
Unlike his mercenary teammates, Ronan looked perfectly ordinary. No trained gait, no unconscious tracking of exits, no concealed weapons shifting his stance. Just a broken-down champion with wasted muscles—a child could shove him aside.
The perfect cover.
That was Darius’s logic anyway. Ronan wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle him or cry once he heard this.
Still, resignation won out. Ronan tied his apron tighter, thinking that maybe if the target hated their food and never returned, this miserable task would be over quickly.
But of course, the man came back.
Again.
And again.
Several times a week, around the same hour, ordering the exact same dish every time.
At first Ronan’s heart stopped whenever they made eye contact, every order taking years off his life. But little by little, he got used to it. The target’s presence no longer paralyzed him. He took his order, delivered the steaming bowl, and pretended this wasn’t a monster who could kill him with a thought.
He even started to forget the mission.
Until Darius appeared before one of his shifts. Masked, as always.
Ronan had flinched when he saw him, standing in the alley beside the shop’s back door.
“This,” Darius said, slipping a vial into his palm, “is strong enough to take him down.”
Ronan stared at it. A small, unassuming bottle. His hands trembled as if he were holding a ticking time bomb.
Out of everyone in his group, why did the full weight of this fall on him?! He was the least willing, the weakest, the most terrified. And now he was expected to single-handedly take a 6-star tamer down?!