Forbidden: Max level warrior

The Scarlet-Flame Kingdom did not sleep.

Not when blood whispered in noble halls and secrets clawed their way out of cellars and slave pits. Not when one man—unknown, unfavored, untethered—threatened the equilibrium of the entire aristocratic web.

And Warden Malric Vaelthorn had no intention of going quietly.

---

Malric's War Room – House Vaelthorn

The door sealed behind him. Inside, only two men waited: High Justicar Taimen, and Lord Rhenver Myrel—noble, merchant, information broker, and more importantly, a man without a soul.

Malric's voice was steel. "They've started moving. The Demon Lord has given them what they think is proof."

Rhenver laced his fingers. "And what do you plan to do?"

"What I should've done the moment he entered my borders." Malric strode to the war table. Maps, guild sigils, and noble crests were scattered across it. "We discredit the evidence. Erase the testimony. Replace it with our own. I've already gotten rid of all evidence. When they get there, nothing will be found."

Taimen raised an eyebrow. "You'll falsify counter-confessions?"

"Better." Malric tapped the map. "We'll create an alternate narrative. That the villagers were coerced. That Ann is threatening them to lie. We'll plant fake documents, manipulate Guild records, bribe select archivists from the Adventurer's Guild, and summon a tribunal of bought mages to 'prove' that the map he gave was forged."

Rhenver grinned. "And the villagers?"

"I've already sent gold and offers of protection to every major house in that district. Some will turn. Some will lie. The rest... will disappear."

Taimen folded his arms. "And the Royal Knights?"

"I've sent correspondence to the capital. If we can convince one Royal Councilor that Ann Zero is fabricating claims to destabilize noble order, they'll act. If not against him, then against Avera for stepping out of line. Besides, I have a pawn among their highest rank—a captain loyal only to me."

Malric's eyes gleamed.

"I'll have his name blackened. I'll have his estate seized by royal edict. By the time he's done talking about slave camps, the world will believe he built them."

---

The Hidden Glyph – After the Investigation

The roads were quiet. Too quiet.

Avera stood alone beside the overgrown path, staring down at the old parchment Ann had handed her.

Her knights were behind her, arguing, frustrated. One—Ser Calden, the black-haired knight—was especially livid.

"I knew it," Calden growled. "We trusted a commoner, and what did it get us? Nothing. Wasted time. Lies. Maybe he's already fled."

Avera didn't answer. Her eyes remained fixed on the edge of the map.

There—etched in a faint glimmer of mana—was something she hadn't seen before. A hidden glyph, visible only now under starlight.

She pressed it.

Words unspooled across the page in graceful handwriting:

> "By the time you arrive, the evidence will be gone. That was always part of Malric's plan. But this mission wasn't about finding truth—it was about exposing who was hiding it. One of your own is not what they claim. Use the device. Press the button. Plant it, and watch."

Avera's hand hovered over the device at her hip.

She hesitated. Spying on fellow knights was beneath her. But something in her gut told her it was true.

She pressed the rune on the recording crystal. It shrank to the size of a fingernail.

Silently, she slipped it beneath the plate of armor on Sir Calden, the black-haired knight with quiet eyes and a noble surname.

She exhaled. "Forgive me if I'm wrong."

Then she turned to her squad.

"I need to leave. I've received a signal from the capital—an inquiry. I'll be back in three hours. Remain here. Keep sweeping for signs."

They nodded. No suspicion.

She rode hard into the dusk.

They nodded, begrudgingly. Calden narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Avera vanished into the trees.

---

The Stone Outpost – The Rendezvous

Ann was already waiting.

Standing beside an ancient stone marker, wind tugging at his black coat, silver hair glowing beneath the moonlight.

"You're late," he said.

"You're insane," Avera snapped.

Ann tilted his head. "That too."

Avera dismounted. "What game are you playing, Ann?"

"No game. Just a war. A silent, bloody war without swords."

"You used my name in the map data. You set us up."

"You knew," she accused. "You knew Malric would clear everything. Why send us on a ghost hunt?"

"Because I needed someone to walk into the lie," Ann replied. "And I needed someone to carry the truth out."

Avera scowled. "So all of this... was bait?"

"No," Ann said calmly. "It was a test. A move. I need you to expose the Warden. And I need you to understand your own team is compromised."

She crossed her arms. "Why not just tell us who the traitor was?"

"You wouldn't have believed me. But now, you'll see it yourself."

He raised a hand. A screen of magic unfolded—showing Calden slipping into the woods moments after she'd left.

The image shifted—Calden speaking to a cloaked man.

"The Demon Lord knows," Calden whispered. "He gave her the map. The slave routes. Everything."

The man scoffed. "And what of it? The Warden is not a fool. He cleared it all before she even left the manor. There's nothing left."

He leaned closer. "Besides, we've already begun spinning the story. By morning, it will be Ann Zero who forged everything."

Ann dismissed the image.

"You see now?"

Avera's blood ran cold. "How did you manage this? It's as if you knew everything from the start. Are you perhaps able to see the future?"

Ann simply chuckled, while brushing strands of hair away from his face. "The future alone isn't consistent. The future changes indefinitely. It's merely a matter of analyzing all infinite probabilities and then—"

Ann exhaled deeply as he chuckled slightly, "—Explaining further would be a waste of time. Even minds of gods would drown from a fraction of the knowledge I possess! Let alone a feeble mind like yours."

For some reason, Avera couldn't press further, or even take offense from what he said. Perhaps she felt the weight of his words—after all, she had witnessed it so far.

She nodded. "So what do we do next?"

"We make proof."

"From what? There's nothing left."

"There's always something."

Ann turned toward Avera, his crimson eyes glinting with quiet certainty. "I need you to come with me," he said. "Not as a warrior, but as a witness."

Avera arched a brow. "You're serious?"

"Deadly. I'm going to need someone to confirm what I see—what I reveal. It can't just be my word."

She frowned. "I told my knights I'd be back within two or three hours. There won't be time."

Ann tilted his head with a half-smirk. "Two or three hours is more than enough for me."

Before she could protest further, he stretched his hand toward her, palm open. "Just say yes. We'll be at the Warden's place before the world even knows we left."

Avera crossed her arms. "If this is political warfare you're playing, what good is physically appearing before the Warden going to do?"

Ann's smile deepened. "Who said anything about going physically?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Then what are you talking about?"

Ann turned slightly, raising his other hand and sketching a glowing rune in the air. The lines shimmered like silver fire, pulsing with unnatural calm.

"Astral projection," he said. "We won't be moving our bodies. Just our consciousness. A projection of thought from one plane into another."

Avera blinked. "That's... not possible. That kind of magic doesn't exist—not truly. The most we've ever managed is scrying across short distances, and even that can be distorted. To transfer a state of awareness—that's forbidden theory."

"It's not theory anymore."

She hesitated. "Are you sure it's safe? What if something happens to our bodies while we're gone?"

Ann gestured around them. "Have you noticed how people have walked right past us without seeing? Even your shadow's been stepped through."

She looked around—indeed, several villagers had passed within inches of them without even glancing their way.

"You're standing in a zone I cast," Ann said calmly. "Not invisibility. Not illusion. Think of it as… erasing presence. Like our bodies are here, but only as echoes. Right now, we don't exist in normal space-time."

Avera's breath caught. "You're manipulating the concept of existence itself."

"Exactly."

She looked at him carefully. "Just who are you?"

He chuckled. "I've been saying it since the beginning. I'm Ann Zero. The Demon Lord of Infinity."

"And your level?" she asked, still stunned.

He smirked. "Let's just say I broke the ceiling a long time ago. Max level. Beyond the system. But honestly, labels don't matter."

A light laugh escaped him. "Forget what I said. None of it will make sense to you. Just think of me as someone bored of every test… and desperate for a challenge worth my time."

Avera exhaled, still reeling from the explanation. "And if I do this…?"

"You'll earn a favor from a Demon Lord," Ann said, serious now. "And that's worth more than gold or power. That's divine."

He extended his hand.

"Ready?"

She reached out slowly and placed her hand in his.

The runes flared.

The world twisted.

Not like teleportation—not like any physical spell. It was as if the universe itself rotated around them, as if the stars were shifting to reposition their place in the grand mosaic.

Avera felt weightless. Beyond time. Beyond breath.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Ann's voice echoed beside her. "This… is what being above existence feels like."

The blur of cosmic ether melted into a room—dark, stone-lined, opulent.

They stood—ghostlike—in Warden Malric's private chamber.

Two men stood before Malric, cloaked in shadow and secrecy.

Their conversation had already begun.

And the next stage of the war was unfolding before unseen eyes.

Malric simply smiled at the other two.

"That so called demonlord made a mistake challenging me, this is a game only god should play."