Noble, or Insane?

"Magic!" Sorel whispered under his breath. He was still shocked after seeing the door.

Arnold had already lit a few torches, and the interior grew brighter. At the end of the room, everyone saw a tunnel that sloped gently downward.

Something else disturbed the knights; almost all of them felt much weaker. It was as if they never had cultivated an aura.

The horses, surprisingly, acted as if they were just in a beautiful meadow. Before the knights could tell the Magister their observations, they heard screams of excitement and a jumping old man.

"Yes, this has to be it! This mana concentration! My dear gentlemen, follow me! We don't have time to waste!" The Magister jumped on his horse and took the torches from Arnold's hand.

Before the knight could react, he was galloping forward into the tunnel with a torch in his hand. The frightened knights also quickly jumped on their horses and followed suit.

"Master Magister, wait for us! Something is wrong; we are much weaker than you previously assumed!" Arnold shouted as he chased down the tunnel but was entirely ignored by the Magister.

It seemed like they galloped for many minutes, and after some time, the tunnel stopped going down, and now the procession was moving on one level.

The knights noticed how the tunnel floor was entirely smooth; even the best roads in the capital city could not be compared to this tunnel.

"Is he crazy? He leads us to death! You feel it, too, right? " One of the instructors from the knight school called to the rest. Rymar drew his sword and rode towards him.

"Doubt the Master, and I'll cut your head off on my own!"

Suddenly a silver glow appeared on the sword. The frightened knights all stopped, and the afterglow did not last long. However, Rymar was breathing hard after a few seconds. But it was still visible to everyone one moment ago.

"Silver Knight?!" Both instructors, at that exact moment, shouted in surprise.

"Calm down. I'm not crazy yet!" Rymar sheath the sword. "The longer you wait here, the weaker you will be, so don't stop, gentlemen! We don't have time to waste!"

After seeing the silver aura, everyone was overcome by rebellious impulses and continued further down the tunnel.

Within an hour, they passed the first fork. The Magister did not even hesitate and drove into the right tunnel. But the knights grew weaker and weaker, each panting more than their galloping horses. When the second bifurcation appeared, the Magister finally stopped and looked at his retinue.

Only on Aron, there was no visible fatigue. The rest of the men were unable to go any further. Seeing this, the Magister frowned.

"Something is wrong... If it goes on like this, you will die of exhaustion. I cannot lose the silver knights. Aron, how are you feeling? You look the best of all. Can you still continue?" The Magister asked and looked at everyone.

"Yes, Master Magister, it feels strange, but I can go on." Aron couldn't have known it, but he felt different from everyone else. While they panted hard as if a vise squeezed their lungs, he breathed easy.

"Okay then, Aron, release two pack horses and leave them to the rest of the knights; one is enough for us. Don't stop, and follow me." The Magister said and looked at his knights.

"I ask you, brave knights, to go back to the door and wait for us outside. We should be back within two days."

"But ... master ..." Rymar began to speak, breathing heavily.

"Our mission ... we are here to protect you ..."

The Magister was much quieter and replied only to Rymar, "As I explained, I only need one person to get through the door. Aron is so weak that even I shouldn't have any problems with him, should he turn on me. You know your orders and what to do when you are outside."

Rymar bowed his head, took both pack horses' reins, and then addressed his words to Aron.

"Young knight ... do not let me down ... guard the magister at all costs ... and do whatever he tells you ... we will be waiting for you on the surface."

The knights summoned the last of their strength, and, wasting no time, they turned horses and galloped in the direction from which they had come. Aron was left alone with the Magister.

"Hmmm, without Rymar and Arnold, it might be challenging, but I should be fine. Let's go because if we stay here any longer, we won't have enough torches to get to the end of the tunnel."

The Magister was now lightly trotting, and the young knight was right behind him.

After two hours of riding and a few forks, the landscape of the tunnel began to change, and the walls now emitted a pale blue glow.

Eventually, the tunnel was bright enough that they didn't need torches.

The Count really honestly prepared them for the journey. Aron's pack horse was half-filled with light sources, and besides torches, it had two lanterns with an ample supply of candles.

Halfway up, Aron thought it would be too little, as the tunnel seemed to never end. But now, as the walls grew brighter and brighter, the young knight was amazed.

"Incredible. How can these walls shine?"

The Magister was muttering something under his breath and talking to himself almost all the way. When Aron spoke, he suddenly stopped and turned to the young knight.

"It is not the wall that shines, but the moss. It glows because of the concentration of magic in the air. I really did not expect such an incredible concentration of mana. The Kingdom's records show that iron knights should not be able to go further, but something must have changed in the last hundreds of years. And you? It doesn't matter in the long run; I'll take care of you, so let's not waste any more time."

A shiver went down Aron's spine at those words. Take care of?

After the brief conversation, a strange feeling made him only want to ride forward. The old man acted strangely as the walls grew lighter, and Aron felt that strange energy was bursting in him. His mind began to cloud, and riding forward became his only goal.

It made him weary, and there were drops of sweat on his face. Something scorching touched his chest, and he now remembered. Because sacks were full of bronze weapons, he hid the family heirloom inside his gambeson when they were still in the forest. It felt like a metal plate was against his chest, but he did not dare to remove it.

After a dozen or so meters, he began to breathe heavily. When the Magister saw it, he started to laugh under his breath. Fortunately, the journey did not turn out to be long because a grand stone door appeared before them.

Aron looked around at the floor and noticed many skeletons around the door, so many looked like a graveyard.

"We are here!" The Magister laughed, jumped off his horse, and turned his attention to Aron. His grin looked malicious in the pale blue light, like a wolf looking at its prey.

"According to the records, a sacrifice is needed to open this door. For the measly price of one sacrifice per person, anyone can enter! And beyond that door, the Kingdom found most of its aura techniques thousands of years ago!" The Magister laughed wildly, clutching his stomach. "Can you imagine it? The techniques that made this Kingdom the most preeminent power ever, all in my hands! Just thinking about it gets me excited!"

He suddenly had a stern look on his face and looked down at the floor before whispering, "You and the other knights were to be our victims for the three of us. A noble sacrifice for the good of the Kingdom. You weren't even needed. For the three of us to pass, I only needed the instructors and that coward. But one can not be too careful!"

He looked back up at the young knight, who still sat unmoving in his saddle. "I did not expect that the local formation would have such an influence on the iron knights, even the silver knights! Now I am glad that you are here with us. But I will say, you scared me a lot!" He chuckled, and a relieved look passed on his face.

"For a moment, I was afraid that even you would not weaken, and the whole plan would fall into ruins. Arnold and Rymar couldn't get here, but they will probably kill your instructors anyway. Can't let this information get out, after all!" The Magister laughed again.

Aron had no control over his body, and he could only listen to the old man's monologue. He screamed for his limbs to move, but he said nothing and did nothing.

"But you got here where the others failed. You are stronger than I assumed; good job! But from what I can see, you must be exhausted. Even without this, with the formation present here, even I would be able to beat you. But I won't have to," The Magister sighed. "You are so young, and it's regrettable to see dying young people. So now be so kind and come to the door. Let's get this done."

Aron, not understanding what was happening and without control over his own body, got off his horse. The wooden rectangle strangely burned him in the chest. The pain, as if someone were burning him with a hot iron. Combined, this with the lack of body control overwhelmed the young man. He felt helpless.

He almost gave up when his body knelt voluntarily in front of the door.

The old man placed a dagger near the young man's neck, but at that moment, a small book broke from Aron's chest and flashed with light.

[Who has ever thought that I, the great Grymuar, would have to show the initiative to save a mere mortal?]

Aron regained control of his body, and simultaneously, a loud voice resounded in his head.