Chapter 16
995words
Fujiwara didn't behave like those simple-minded informants who might immediately confront me. Instead, he appeared unusually calm, as if completely unaware of recent developments.
However, his trusted subordinates, like disturbed hyenas, began mobilizing personnel and reinforcing defenses at all his resource points. Particularly the magic crystal vein in the Valley of Weeping—overnight, its security tripled, with his right-hand man, Third-ranked Sato Ken, personally overseeing protection.
The entire Academy watched me make a spectacle of myself.
"Did you hear? Sakurai plans to raid Lord Fujiwara's mine. Absolute madness!"
"Quiet! Haven't you noticed Lord Fujiwara strengthening defenses? He's drawing the snake from its hole!"
"Sakurai's finished. His amateur schemes against Lord Fujiwara are like a child playing at warfare."
I continued my library routine punctually, but with "just enough" anxiety and distress visible on my face. Everyone believed I'd trapped myself in a dilemma of my own making.
They all assumed my target was the heavily guarded crystal vein.
A perfect poisoned bait to draw everyone's attention.
---
The night before our operation, in Green Leaf Village's secret meeting room...
"Everything's ready, President," Ando reported calmly, adjusting his glasses. "Fujiwara's attention is fixed on the Valley of Weeping vein. Over seventy percent of his elite forces are stationed there."
"Excellent." I nodded, turning to a completely different map on the wall.
This map marked only one location—the Black Forest.
A forbidden zone within Demon King territory, perpetually shrouded in toxic miasma. Home to magical creatures that even high-ranking demons avoided.
Deep within this forest lay a resource point that even Fujiwara might consider insignificant—a small garden tended by elderly potion masters cultivating rare magical plants.
The herbs themselves weren't particularly valuable, but one plant—Moonlight Tear—was the core ingredient for a forbidden drug called Soul of Frenzy, which temporarily boosted mental power at extreme cost.
Fujiwara relied on this forbidden substance to rapidly increase his power, securing his top position. This was his greatest secret—and his critical vulnerability.
This intelligence had cost me dearly when purchasing it from Kanon.
"Our target isn't the mine," I declared, my gaze sweeping across every core member. "That's merely misdirection."
"Our true objective is here." I pointed firmly at the Secret Garden in Black Forest.
"Iron Fang, lead the main patrol squad to create a diversion near Valley of Weeping. Be loud but avoid direct engagement with Sato Ken's forces. Your mission is harassment and distraction—make them believe we're launching a frontal assault on the mine."
"Understood!" Iron Fang pounded his chest enthusiastically.
"Tsukishima, your task is critical," I turned to her. "Create a massive illusion with your Wall of Lament during our operation. Fujiwara's scouts must 'witness' me leading our study group in a desperate charge against the mine."
Understanding flashed in Tsukishima's eyes as she nodded firmly.
"Kanon, Ando, Kikyo—you'll guard our base and handle aftermath. Once we succeed, anonymously distribute information about Moonlight Tear. Everyone should know what methods Fujiwara used to achieve his position."
"And I," I stood straighter, cold determination in my eyes, "will personally lead a team to infiltrate Black Forest and destroy that garden completely."
This would be the Crescent Moon Society's first truly offensive strike.
A diversionary attack masking a surgical strike at the enemy's hidden weakness.
Fujiwara Shizuka would pay dearly for his arrogance!
---
The night was pitch black.
Near Valley of Weeping, battle cries and magical explosions shook the earth. Iron Fang executed my orders perfectly—his patrol team moved like ghosts, using terrain knowledge and enchanted crossbows to harass the mine guards, keeping them in constant motion yet always beyond reach.
Meanwhile, near the Academy, Tsukishima's illusion magic deployed magnificently. A massive battlefield of light and shadow materialized, where "I" and my "study group" engaged in a spectacular yet doomed offensive against Sato Ken's forces.
All eyes focused on these two battlefields.
No one knew I had already led ten elite village ninjas deep into Black Forest.
Here, miasma saturated the air, visibility was minimal, and magical perception severely disrupted. For us, this provided perfect cover.
We moved like true shadows, slipping between twisted trees, evading magical beasts and traps with practiced precision.
Soon, the Secret Garden hidden behind a waterfall appeared before us.
"Move in."
My command was concise.
No flashy magic, no unnecessary words.
Ten ninjas infiltrated like ghosts, using poisoned blades to silently eliminate the few unsuspecting potion masters.
The entire operation took less than three minutes.
I entered the garden, gazing at the Moonlight Tear plants emitting their eerie glow under moonlight, my eyes devoid of mercy.
"Burn everything."
Flames engulfed Fujiwara's greatest secret.
---
The next morning, as Fujiwara received two vastly different battle reports, he was leisurely enjoying blood-red tea brewed from elven maidens' essence.
One report detailed how Sakurai's pathetic force had been utterly routed at Valley of Weeping by Sato Ken's defenses, fleeing in disarray with heavy casualties.
The other, an urgent magical communication from Black Forest, informed him—his Secret Garden was destroyed. All Moonlight Tear plants reduced to ash.
"Pffft!"
Fujiwara spat tea across the room, his perpetually elegant face contorting with rage.
"Sakurai... HAYATO!!!"
His bestial roar echoed as uncontrolled magical power shattered every luxury item in his quarters.
He finally understood—he had been played.
Manipulated like a puppet by the "worthless seventh brother" he had always dismissed.
What devastated him further: that same day, secrets about Soul of Frenzy and Moonlight Tear began circulating throughout the Academy.
The first-ranked candidate's pristine image cracked overnight.
By the library window, I stood silently. In the distance, toward Fujiwara's quarters, violent magical energy rose like a blood-red pillar into the sky, painting half the horizon crimson. The corner of my mouth curved slightly—not from victory's joy, but a predator's satisfaction at first blood.
"Fujiwara Shizuka, this is merely the beginning."
I gazed toward the vast sky beyond the window.
"The Crescent Moon Society's fangs have been sharpened."
Volume One · End
