Ethan didn't waste another word.
The moment the command was given, the mine's deep structure began to tremble—like some invisible hand was prying it loose from reality itself.
The mountain, the mineral veins, the blood-red crystal deposits, and the golden lake—all of it began to compress, fold, and seal layer by layer. In the end, it condensed into a dense, stable spatial core, which Ethan dragged directly into the borders of Emerald Castle's domain.
When the last trace of golden light vanished, the once-suffocating forbidden zone was reduced to a hollow scar in the land—like someone had ripped a chunk straight off the map.
…
At the same time, far away in the Crocaster Empire—
The throne hall was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent nobles wore best: the sour stench of anger dressed up in etiquette.
A tall, broad-shouldered man sat on the throne, fingers tapping slowly on the armrest.
So slow, no one dared breathe.
