Chapter 31

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Chapter 31: The Weak’s Desire

The rumor of a level 20 human swordsman easily defeating the level 28 captain of the Wind Team spread through the village like a tornado. Though the Elven race was typically quiet and elegant, their appetite for gossip proved just as strong.

In an instant, names like Beryl and Dylan, along with the Blade of Shattered Mind, became frequent topics in various conversations. Curious onlookers flocked to the merchant caravan’s camp, hoping to catch a glimpse of Midi after his flashy "performance." But Midi avoided the crowds entirely.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the forest grew quiet again. The Elves’ excitement faded quickly—Beryl had vanished in shame, and Midi kept his low profile. By nightfall, the caravan returned to its usual tranquility.

“Do you really think that young Elf named Dylan will come?” Fina finally asked.

“Naturally,” Midi replied.

Using Dylan as a breakthrough to locate the magic veins was Midi’s plan—the whole reason he’d provoked the conflict. But night had fallen, and Elves rarely moved about after dark despite their Night Vision Abilities.

Fina doubted Dylan would show up this late. Midi, however, remained confident.

He’d seen the burning hunger for power in that level 19 Elf swordsman’s eyes—a reflection of his own past self. That’s why Midi had abandoned caution, discarded his low-profile approach, and openly challenged the Wind Team’s captain. The battle’s sole purpose was to demonstrate true strength to someone desperate for it.

During the sparring, Midi hadn’t used a single Demon Swordman skill. He’d kept his power and speed strictly at level 20 standards, yet utterly suppressed a level 28 ranged profession through sheer melee skill.

No demon god. No level advantage. Just mastery.

Midi’s message was clear. How could another swordsman—especially one craving strength—resist such a display?

The young Elf would come. And he’d bring the key to finding the magic veins.

Silence settled over the camp again. Fina watched Midi’s calm demeanor, resisting the urge to sigh—until a merchant apprentice rushed in, eyes bright. “Mr. Midi! An Elf named Dylan is here—the one who bought—”

Two blurs shot past the apprentice. The camp emptied instantly.

“You’re Dylan?” Midi asked, feigning mild surprise despite his inner satisfaction. “What brings you here so late?”

Fina observed Midi’s flawless acting, thinking this black-haired guy could outscheme any noble. She mentally pitied the young Elf.

“Mr. Midi, I… I have a request.” Dylan hesitated before suddenly kneeling, right hand pressed to his left shoulder—the Elven Tribe’s highest honor, reserved for elders. “Please teach me your swordsmanship! I want to become stronger!”

Midi shook his head. “What you saw today was my secret technique. Impossible to teach.”

Dylan’s ears drooped.

“But,” Midi continued, “strength is a swordsman’s foundation. While I can’t share my techniques, I can enhance your physical attributes. With enough training, you might even achieve perfect transmutation.”

“Truly?” Dylan leapt up, hope renewed.

“Of course.” Midi’s smile turned enigmatic. “I have a method to strengthen your body long-term—but it requires exposure to magic from the veins.”

All this scheming, all this drama—just to mention “magic veins.” Yet Dylan’s face tightened with discomfort.

_Still no leads? Stubborn Elves!_ Fina thought. As the Hamilton family heir, she usually admired clever schemes, but watching Midi deceive this earnest youth left a bitter taste.

_If this fails, we’ll have wasted time and made enemies with the Wind Team for nothing._ The red-haired girl clenched her fists, frustration simmering.

However, just as the red-haired girl moved to intervene, the young Elf raised his head to stare directly at Midi, as if searching for answers in those dark eyes. "Even if this violates Silver Star Tribe traditions or breaks clan laws," the Elf declared, "if reaching the magic veins is the only path of power, we go now!"

Midi nodded, a momentary glint of excitement flashing through his gaze like vanishing stardust.

Crossing ridges and wildlife territories, fording two streams, they reached a massive boulder. Without explanation, Midi the Demon Swordman sensed the magic currents pulsing beneath the stone – they’d found their magic vein.

Upon arrival, Midi made no move to eliminate witnesses. These Elves would become future allies, and silencing them required mere unconsciousness, not bloodshed. True to his word, he taught Dylan an Elven body-refining technique.

This magic-enhancement method, co-developed with Mist Sorceress Alice, synergized perfectly with her prepared magic veins, achieving twice the result with half the effort. For two intense hours, Midi instructed without holding back while Dylan strained his limits, ultimately mastering the basics before collapsing from exhaustion.

As Dylan retreated to the village, Midi lingered under pretense of gathering nightshade for potions. When the Elf’s aura faded completely, he signaled.

Footsteps soon rustled through moonlit ferns. Three figures emerged – Fina, Sigmund, and Lilian, their weariness vanishing at sensing the magic vein’s presence.

"That Elf still doesn’t realize he’s been manipulated?" Fina glanced toward Dylan’s departure path.

"The training method works," Midi countered lightly. "Secrecy protects him."

"Since when do liars get moral high ground?" Lilian’s barb came sharp and fast.

"Had I been honest, he’d have agreed anyway," Midi reasoned. "But then he’d bear the shame of betrayal rather than innocent deception. Better he keeps clean hands."

"What if he’d refused to abandon tradition?" Fina challenged.

"Impossible."

"Why?"

"For the weak," Midi’s frost-toned words cut the winter stillness, "strength outweighs morals, tradition, tribe… even dignity itself."

"And you?" The future Queen of Magic’s question hung heavy.

Midi swallowed his true answer – that he’d raze worlds for Fina and Alice. Premature confessions would only startle her. Having walked this path before, he knew patience.

"You’ll learn my reasons… someday." He deflected her probing gaze effortlessly.

Approaching the boulder, he pressed palm to stone. Beneath lay the guiding magic array – and with it, Mist Sorceress Alice’s hidden signature.