Fenrir stepped back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
The mana lock flickered and sealed again, its glow slightly brighter than before, as if acknowledging its master's return.
As he walked through the mansion's halls, retracing his steps, he felt no attachment. Not anymore.
He had what he came for—confirmation that his generals hadn't given up, and the resources he needed to continue forward. The mansion had served its final purpose.
Now, it was time to say goodbye.
Fenrir paused at the front gates for just a second, glancing back at the grand estate. A twisted grin curved across his lips.
"This place was built to withstand armies. But even stone fades when fools take charge."
With that, he stepped out, disappearing into the chaos of the third floor's open market once more—his pockets filled with gold, his mind filled with purpose, and his heart set on reclaiming everything that had been taken from him.
______
