Chapter 359: Ultras Maneuvers (1)

— Kalavan Passage —

The narrow strait that split the Nightmare Mountain Range in half—fortified with a powerful stronghold.

The fortress itself was more than just a checkpoint; it was a full-fledged Ultras city, typically managed by the lower blood castes. But today was different. Today, the elite of the Ultras had taken control.

In front of the gate stood two towering guards, their strength easily estimated to be S-rank or higher by Frey.

Behind them were additional sentries and arcane cannons stationed atop the walls for extra protection.

In other words, breaching this stronghold was an exceptionally difficult task—and even if one succeeded, it would instantly alert all Ultras in the area of an intruder.

But none of that stopped Frey.

Dragging the terrified Clana behind him, he came face-to-face with the sentinels .. who already had their hands resting on the hilts of their massive swords.

Their eyes scanned him, assessing the hooded figure who deliberately kept his face hidden.

And just when they were about to strike, Frey bowed in a strange, ceremonial fashion—his right hand pressed to his heart, while his left was raised in an unfamiliar salute.

Clana blinked in surprise, puzzled by the gesture.

But the guards didn’t share her confusion. In fact, his actions made them hesitate.

"Who are you?!"

Their suspicion remained, but that salute alone was enough to delay their swords.

It was a gesture only used by a rare few—those from one of the Four Great Highblood Cities.

"One of Lord Gavied Lindman’s Seven Swords. William of Caelid."

The moment those words left Frey’s mouth, he released a fraction of Balerion’s aura—just enough to push his presence into S+ rank for a moment.

It was all he needed to be taken seriously.

Seeing their reactions, a faint smile formed beneath his hood.

’So they’re not from Caelid...’

That confirmed it—they weren’t from Gavied Lindman’s capital. If they had been, they would’ve recognized he was an impostor.

Still, that wasn’t enough to fully convince them. So Frey played his trump card.

"I’m here under Lord Lindman’s orders. The mere fact that this damn gate isn’t open already is reason enough for me to demand both your heads. Don’t you think ?"

He let go of Clana and stepped forward. The hesitation in the guards’ expressions was obvious ..but they still didn’t grant him entry.

"I’m a reasonable man, as you can see," Frey continued. "I know you’re just doing your job, especially with enemies lurking among us. So... I suppose I should offer you some kind of guarantee, shouldn’t I?"

In the blink of an eye, he pulled something from his robe and held it up before their eyes.

Their expressions darkened instantly. Both dropped to one knee in perfect unison.

"We offer our deepest apologies to the High Sovereignty!!"

Their voices rang out in sync, while Clana stood in stunned silence.

Frey, however, showed no sign of surprise.

"I don’t need your apologies. Just open the damn gate."

"Yes, sir!!"

One of the guards jumped to his feet, channeling aura into his voice as he shouted:

"Open the gate!!"

The command traveled up the walls—and within seconds, the massive doors began to creak open for Frey.

The guards stepped aside to let him through.

"Let’s go."

Frey called out to Clana, who was still frozen in place, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

She quickly ran after him, afraid to fall behind.

Together, they passed through the gate—just before it closed shut behind them as quickly as it had opened.

Inside, they entered a city built like a fortress. The structures clung to the mountainsides, while the lower levels featured everything from the typical lowblood tents to full military installations.

They quickly blended in with the crowd—which, to Clana’s growing concern, included a terrifying number of Ultras from the high bloodline.

Still clinging to Frey, she couldn’t hold back anymore. She felt like she’d been asking endless questions lately—but how could she not, when Frey kept doing things that defied all logic?

"What the hell did you just do?!"

Frey continued walking calmly, pulling out the same token he had shown the guards earlier.

"All I did was show them this."

In his hand was a black emblem the size of a fist, etched with a blood-red demonic sigil.

Clana scowled at the sight of it.

"What is that?"

"It’s a token used by high-ranking members of their hierarchy. I took it off one of them after I killed her."

The emblem’s actual name was The Sigil of High Sovereignty. Frey had taken it from Beatrice’s corpse after defeating her—it was the only item of value she had on her.

Thanks to his knowledge as the story’s author, he’d immediately recognized what it was.

From there, all that remained was to perform the ridiculous salute he’d written long ago and sell the performance—just enough to get them through the gate.

"It was a gamble," he admitted. "If I hadn’t had the emblem, they would’ve made us show our faces—and we’d probably be fighting for our lives right now."

Clana’s face darkened at his words. She imagined how close they’d come to disaster .. especially now that they were already inside, with no turning back.

Everything that had happened so far made her want to dig deeper into the man named Frey Starlight.

’How does he know all this? When did he defeat a member of their High Sovereignty? Is he really one of us? Are we even the same age?’

All those questions were on Clana’s mind... but she buried them deep in her heart.

’What am I even thinking? He saved my life...’

’Besides, he’s the son of the phenomenon—Abraham Starlight. This level of power is expected from someone like him, isn’t it?’

She exhaled quietly, steadying her emotions so as not to draw attention.

"I’m glad everything worked out in the end."

"You really thought I’d fight my way through the front gate? Don’t be stupid."

’Even though I actually would’ve, if I didn’t have the emblem...’

Frey spoke with a neutral tone, his face still hidden beneath the black mask he wore, but his words didn’t reflect what he truly thought.

"Still... you’re amazing, Frey. I’m glad I ended up stuck with you."

Clana smiled, sincerely this time, and that alone was enough to make Frey frown again—especially when another system notification popped up before his eyes.

Ding!

Clana Starlight:

Current Affection Points: 80

(Threshold breached — user can now exert enhanced influence using Third-Person Perspective on this individual)

Frey wasn’t pleased with what he saw. He wasn’t sure when Clana’s affection level had gotten so high.

But this wasn’t the time or place to deal with it, so he ignored it for now.

"Let’s find the teleportation circle and get out of here."

Spending too much time among the Ultras wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea. Without wasting another second, he pushed forward into the heart of the pass, with Clana trailing closely behind.

"It shouldn’t be far now..."

Kalavan Pass was equipped with a powerful magic circle that allowed people to teleport directly to the other side of the mountain range.

It would’ve been perfect—if only it had been a teleportation gate rather than a mere circle. That difference alone was the reason it couldn’t be used as a true escape route.

"Frey... something’s going on up ahead."

Clana stopped, pointing toward the large crowd that had formed in front of them .. clearly, something was happening.

"Let’s blend in. Stay close to me, and don’t lift your head. Remember, everyone here is highblood."

Frey warned her seriously, and Clana nodded.

Clinging tightly to his arm, the two merged into the crowd, who were all cheering loudly for a group walking through the path cleared ahead of them.

"All hail the High Sovereignty!!"

The crowd roared in unison.

Frey’s expression darkened the moment he felt the overwhelming pressure slam onto his shoulders.

He didn’t even know where it had come from.

But then, a giant man—nearly four meters tall—passed by them, each step echoing with terrifying weight.

He wore a golden suit of armor that covered his body entirely, while his blazing red hair jutted out from the top like a crown of fire.

Frey’s cold, killer eyes grew even colder.

"Lord Godfrey of Aeonia is passing!"

Someone shouted, intensifying the crowd’s cheers and confirming what Frey had already suspected.