Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 377: You think I’m joking?

Chapter 377: You think I’m joking?

Hearing that, Ethan looked genuinely surprised. "Why do you say that?"

"You mean... you really don’t know?" Nathaniel blinked, clearly taken aback. He stared at Ethan for a moment, then let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "Mr. Ethan, then I guess you’re even more out of the loop than I thought. Half of the eight duchies that split off from the old Holy Griffon Empire have already been wiped out in this faction war! Right now, only Shadowfang, Griffonhold, Ravenmark, and Stormwing are still hanging on by a thread."

"And the worst part?" He sighed heavily. "The three main strongholds where most of our players were based—Unicorn Duchy, Ironhorn Duchy, and Eldoria Duchy—they’re all gone. Flattened. Just ruins now. So... yeah."

"Sure, we’ve managed to relocate to the remaining duchies, but think about it—everything we built, everything we worked for, it’s all gone. We’re basically starting from scratch. Isn’t that just the worst?"

"And that’s not even the end of it..." Drake chimed in, unable to hold back anymore. His face was full of frustration. "Mr. Ethan, the real kicker is, even those four duchies that are still standing? They’re not exactly safe either. From the looks of it, they could fall at any moment."

Ethan fell silent, his expression darkening.

He hadn’t expected this. Sure, he’d mentally prepared himself for bad news, but hearing that half the duchies on the mainland had already been wiped out? Damn. This faction war was way more brutal than he’d imagined.

Cain, that so-called Wisdom Angel, must be losing his mind right about now.

Still... this might actually work in their favor. The more chaos there was, the more opportunities Emerald Castle had to swoop in and carve out a piece of the pie for themselves.

It was a little ruthless to think that way, sure—but from Emerald Castle’s perspective? This was a golden opportunity.

The benefits far outweighed the risks.

"I really didn’t know about any of that..." Ethan shook his head, his eyes flickering with a hint of thought.

"But... isn’t that something everyone living in the Eight Duchies should be aware of?" Drake asked, unable to hold back his curiosity. "Could it be that, Mr. Ethan, your activity in Glory Lords X hasn’t been within the Eight Duchies at all?"

The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the room shifted—tense, heavy, and suddenly quiet.

Anyone with half a brain could tell—

Drake was probing.

He was trying to feel Ethan out.

"Drake, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Who told you to say that? Get out! Get the hell out right now! I don’t want to see your face again—OUT!" Nathaniel exploded, leaping to his feet and jabbing a finger at Drake’s face, his voice thunderous with rage.

"G-General Grant, please, don’t be angry. Let me explain—Mr. Ethan, I’m sorry, it was my fault, I didn’t mean—" Drake stammered, clearly realizing he’d crossed a line. He forced a sheepish smile and quickly turned to Ethan, bowing his head in apology.

But Ethan just gave a faint smile and shook his head, his tone calm but cool. "Actually, you’re not wrong. I haven’t been active in the Eight Duchies lately... but so what?"

The shift in Ethan’s tone made Drake’s face pale slightly. His gut twisted—he knew he’d screwed up. He opened his mouth to try and salvage the situation, but Nathaniel cut him off cold.

"Drake. You can leave now." Nathaniel’s voice was low and icy, like the calm before a storm. His eyes locked onto Drake with a chilling intensity.

"General Grant, I—" Drake’s face turned ashen. He tried to explain, but that only poured fuel on Nathaniel’s fury.

"I said GET OUT!" Nathaniel roared. "This is the last time I’m saying it. Walk out that door, or I swear, you’ll regret it. You want to test me? Go ahead—see what happens."

Drake’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his face shifting between red and white. But in the end, he could only sigh, forcing a bitter smile as he lowered his head. "I’m sorry. I lost my temper. I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit... I apologize."

With that, he turned and walked out.

Only after the door closed behind him did Nathaniel finally slump back into his seat like a balloon that had lost all its air. His shoulders sagged, and his face was full of regret.

"Mr. Ethan, I’m truly sorry you had to witness that. This one’s on me. I brought him here, and he caused trouble. I take full responsibility. No matter what, I’ll make this right."

Of course he understood why Drake had done it.

Either someone had put him up to it... or deep down, Drake just couldn’t bring himself to fully respect Ethan. That’s why he tried to dig into Ethan’s background.

It was human nature.

After all, Drake wasn’t just anyone—he was the top-ranked powerhouse among the Greater America military’s Big Four.

There was no way a guy like that didn’t have pride.

But given their current position, that kind of pride was a dangerous luxury.

They were the ones coming here to ask for help. They were the ones at a disadvantage.

And when you’re the one asking for help, you damn well better act like it.

Some people just didn’t get that.

Worse, they thought it was a good time to test Ethan’s limits...

But what those idiots don’t seem to get—what they can’t seem to grasp with their damn pig brains—is that pulling a stunt like that does nothing but piss Ethan off. All it does is stir up resentment that wasn’t even there to begin with.

Did they seriously think that if they could just dig up Ethan’s background, figure out where he came from, what made him strong...

...they could somehow become just like him?

Or worse—replace him?

What kind of delusional, brain-dead fantasy is that?

Hell, they all know exactly how the White Bear Tsar became a Legendary orange-tier hero. Every detail. Every step.

And yet?

Not a single one of them has managed to earn the Castle faction’s favor like he did. Not one has reached that level.

So what’s the point of knowing?

Nathaniel was so furious he could practically feel blood rising in his throat. If he ever found out who was really behind this little stunt, he swore he’d pry open their skull and ask them face-to-face—

"Are you seriously this stupid?!"

"Goddamn..."

Ethan let out a long sigh just then and said, "General Grant, do you know why I’m usually reluctant to deal with your people?"

He looked up, his voice calm but heavy. "It’s because of crap like this. I’m afraid that one day, I’ll lose my patience with one of these brain-dead morons... and end up wiping all of you out."

...

Nathaniel froze.

His face stiffened, but he assumed Ethan was just venting, blowing off steam. So he forced a dry, awkward smile and didn’t say anything.

"You think I’m joking?" Ethan asked, his smile thin and unreadable.

And then—

BOOM!

A terrifying wave of power exploded from Ethan’s body without warning. It hit like a shockwave, and Nathaniel, who was closest, felt it first. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, his face drained of color, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

He almost fell out of his chair.

But just like before, the pressure vanished as quickly as it came.

Not even a full second. Just one breath—and it was gone.

"Ethan! Are you seriously using that power to scare people again?" Emily gave him a light smack on the arm, half exasperated, half shaken. Her voice carried a mix of annoyance and lingering fear.

Still, this time Ethan had kept it under control. The blast hadn’t been aimed at her, just Nathaniel—so it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the first time she’d felt it.

But Nathaniel?

He was wrecked.