From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

"Burning Light Orb!" Lancelot commanded.

The two soldiers behind him immediately took out pale golden magic crystals, infused them with a small amount of spiritual power, and hurled them forward. The crystals traced a faint arc of light in the air before falling into the cave entrance and exploding instantly, like a silent flower of light blooming. Soft yet bright halos spread outwards, illuminating the cave within a three-zhang radius ahead with exceptional clarity.

Inside the cave, the rock walls were rugged and uneven, covered with cracks left by the erosion of time. On the illuminated floor, broken railway tracks snaked and coiled, like an abandoned steel serpent. On both sides of the tracks were shattered mine carts, rusted tools, and countless ashes and decaying limbs. A faint smell of decay permeated the air, seemingly rising slowly from the depths of the rocks.

"What did he use this old mine tunnel to transport?" Lancelot frowned, a hint of coldness in his voice.

Eric didn't answer immediately. He slowly walked to the railroad tracks and squatted down, his gaze fixed on a shallow mark on the ground—a row of very shallow but regular grooves, not made by the wheels, but by shackles and chains, carved out by repeated dragging. His fingers brushed across the ground, where a patch of almost blurred bloodstains was still faintly discernible, interspersed with fragments of broken runes.

"Not cargo," he finally spoke, his voice low and cold. "It's people. He used this road to transport living people."

Lancelot's expression hardened: "A living person? You mean...?"

"These drag marks weren't left by a minecart. Look at these tracks and these bloodstains; they're from chained anklets. Those people were forced to walk, dragged deep into the area, and never came back."

Lancelot gritted his teeth and remained silent.

A silence fell over the group. The firelight illuminated the mottled bloodstains on the rock face, and a chilling sense of oppression quietly rose in the air.

"We shouldn't venture too far," Lancelot said in a deep voice.

"No." Eric looked up, his gaze unwavering. "We are not them."

So the men reformed their ranks and advanced slowly and cautiously. Maintaining their defensive formation, they ventured deeper and deeper into the mine. Every ten steps, a soldier from the rear would drop a glowing bead, which would roll along the ground ahead, illuminating the dark and silent tunnel.

In the interplay of light and shadow, their figures were elongated and distorted on the cave walls, like a procession of undead walking through a nightmare. Occasionally, scattered resistance would appear—emaciated figures with vacant eyes, as if their souls had been stolen. The soldiers subdued them with almost no effort. Their bodies were pitifully fragile, like puppets under a spell, mere empty shells.

"This is not a battle," Lancelot whispered. "This is liberation."

They continued deeper along the railway tracks. After traveling about a hundred feet, the cave wall ahead suddenly collapsed, revealing a huge underground hall.

The hall was about three zhang high, supported by several natural rock pillars. The stone walls were rough and ancient, yet they had been forcibly carved with dense, ancient runes. These runes did not belong to the common magical language of Iser, nor were they the French used by any country, but rather ancient magical lines mixed with dark magic marks, twisted and irregular, as if some evil will was writhing and struggling in the rock, trying to break through the abyss.

"This is," Lancelot's pupils constricted, his voice trembling slightly in the wind, "the Mark of Sacrifice."

Eric slowly approached the rock face, staring intently at the runes, his voice low and menacing: "What is the Seal of Sacrifice?"

Lancelot hesitated for a moment, and before he could speak, an elderly mage in a long robe behind him took a deep breath and slowly said, "I once saw a description in a forbidden document. The Sacrifice Mark is a ritual mark used by the ancient dark magic faction. It can actively strip away a mage's magic power, using their spiritual power as a medium to sacrifice to some being."

Eric asked, "What are the consequences of being stripped of magic?"

The mage's face paled, his voice trembling: "Those aren't ordinary people who have lost their magic. Their consciousness collapses first, then their bodies wither away. Humans die, and elves become empty shells without souls. Kadir uses them as," he lowered his head, "fuel."

A silence spread, and even the firelight seemed to dim.

Eric's eyes ignited with fighting spirit, but it was no longer fiery; instead, it was as cold as ice.

"He used people as fuel, cast sacrificial signs, drained their magic, and then abandoned the empty shells in the cave... He didn't even give them complete dignity in death."

He slowly drew his longsword from his waist, the blade reflecting the light of the runes on the rock wall, the silvery-white blade seemingly piercing through the somber darkness.

"Kadiel is beyond evil." He spoke each word clearly, his voice low but firm. "Such a person cannot be allowed to live. Even if he escapes to the depths of the earth, I will dig him out and make him pay for it."

Lancelot nodded, his expression growing increasingly grim: "Burn this place down, along with the filth he left behind."

The elderly mage remained silent, only gripping his staff tightly. The other soldiers behind him also bowed their heads in silence; some gritted their teeth, others pressed their hands to their swords. A silent resolve ignited within this underground hall.

They found several surviving members of Kadir's men in a closed rock chamber at the end of the cave. One of them tried to resist but was subdued on the spot by Lancelot.

The interrogation did not take long. The men quickly confessed the truth.

"Lord Kadir has led a large force out to capture people, capture those mages," a gaunt man in black robes whispered hoarsely, his eyes still holding a hint of almost fanatical fear.

"How long has he been gone?" Lancelot asked in a cold voice.

"It's been almost five days."

"What are you trying to achieve with this sacrificial seal?" Lia asked.

"I don't know, Lord Kadir didn't tell us."

The expressions on everyone's faces grew increasingly solemn.

"He's really daring," the older mage gritted his teeth. "Such a large-scale abduction of mages, and the cities haven't reacted at all?"

"He didn't use blatant robbery," Lancelot scoffed. "I suspect he secretly arrested them one by one, setting traps, luring them away, scattering them to different locations, and taking them away quietly."

"Enough," Eric said, his gaze cold as he looked at the prisoners. "Lock them in that side room and seal them up."

After the soldiers dragged the prisoners away, Eric walked to the stone pillar in the center of the hall, looked at the twisted sacrificial runes around him, and said in a deep voice:

"When he returns, he will definitely go here to confirm whether the structure required for the sacrifice is still there."

"Then let's wait for him here," someone suggested. "Let's set up an ambush and wait for him to step in..."

"No." Eric shook his head, his expression unusually clear. "He's not stupid. If he returns and sees the guardian beast at the cave entrance killed, he'll definitely become suspicious. At that point, he can simply send someone to investigate while he observes from a distance, thus avoiding any traps."

He looked at everyone, his tone slow but firm, "We need to lure him into the trap, without letting him realize there are people in the cave."

"you mean?"

"We set traps inside the cave, pretending everything was as before. But the real ambush was outside," Eric said. "He made his move as soon as he returned, while they were unloading the cargo. His most relaxed and arrogant moments were also his most vulnerable."

The elder monk pondered for a moment: "That is indeed a method, but if he divides his forces, we may not have enough people."

"We only need to cut off his head, and the guards will naturally scatter," Lancelot said in a deep voice.

The group quickly devised a plan. They restored apparent order inside the cave, disguising and reconstructing the destroyed altar structure, while simultaneously setting up delayed-triggering spirit-sealing arrays and flame traps in several concealed locations. The trajectory of the Burning Light Orb was also recalibrated to give the illusion that the passage had never been disturbed.

Just before the trap was set at dusk, Lancelot led a small squad of soldiers to search deeper into the mine. Unexpectedly, they discovered a dwelling that had not yet been destroyed in a dark room behind a sealed rock wall. It was an extremely hidden private study, as if the rock itself had been hollowed out. Runes that prevented detection were placed on its exterior. If a soldier had not accidentally triggered a mechanism, the group would have almost missed it.

The study was simple yet orderly, with wooden shelves filled with parchment scrolls, ancient books, and magical tools. In the center was a low wooden table, on which were neatly stacked several unburned letters, each sealed with an ancient wax seal. A faint, indistinct gold stripe was embedded in the black background, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of oppression.

Lancelot took the letter, his brow furrowed, and turned to hand it to Eric.

Eric put on gloves, gently peeled off the wax seal, and unfolded the paper. The paper was made of animal hide, a material commonly used by dwarven merchants; it was fire-resistant and moisture-proof. The handwriting was the familiar Kadir style, each stroke vigorous and rapid, clearly written under immense pressure and excitement, and obviously not yet mailed.

He read silently, his brow furrowing and his lips tightening almost imperceptibly.

"My lord, as you wished, we have captured the forty-seventh suitable mage. The control spell you previously bestowed was extremely effective. Although the process was perilous, the results were remarkable."

"I have deployed my undercover agents to lay an ambush in Astra, and I hope more suitable individuals will appear in the coming days..."

Eric grew increasingly horrified as he read, his heart filled with astonishment at just how many people Kadir had harmed.

"He's not acting alone," Eric said. "This plot to abduct mages may be far more complex than we realize."

"Kadir is just a henchman," he said. "The one behind it all is the true architect of this dark ritual."

Silence fell over the crowd. The letter was sealed back in the box and carefully hidden in a lieutenant's pouch, to be immediately delivered to the palace of Iser by the fastest messenger.

Outside the mine, in a grove of low trees at the foot of the hillside, they dug concealed trenches, set up arrow towers and sentries, and arranged for archers and two mages skilled in earth-遁术 (earth-遁术 is a type of magic that allows one to burrow underground) to ambush the enemy. They also had their soldiers cover up all traces of firelight from the night and dig out an old road as a surprise attack route, forming a triple encirclement.