Leo crept through the dark, narrow corridor, his boots pressing into the damp stone floor. The walls wet with moisture, and with each step, an unsettling creaking noise echoed through the passage, as if the very ground resisted his advance. A chill slithered down his spine, and despite his careful movements, a faint sense of unease coiled in his gut.
After a few steps, he reached a door on his right. He instinctively reached for the handle but froze. Something felt off.
'Could be a trap.'
His fingers hovered over the handle before he activated his Moonlit Gaze. The cold, wet walls made it easier to peer through. Inside, something long and coiled rested in the shadows, twisted upon itself in an unnatural way. It shifted slightly.
'A snake?'
But there was something wrong with it. The way it moved—too rigid, too methodical—sent a warning through his body. He withdrew his hand and kept walking. Then, a voice cut through the silence.
"Oh? Why didn't you go inside that room?"
The whisper came from behind him. Leo jerked around, heart pounding.
"I'm playing here. My reasons are none of your business," he muttered, forcing his voice to remain steady.
A light chuckle echoed through the corridor. "You're no fun."
Leo gritted his teeth and ignored it. Pressing forward, he reached the next door. Using Moonlit Gaze, he peered inside. A chair sat in the middle of the room, occupied by a still figure—a man, head bowed, arms limp at his sides.
Leo reached for the handle. Then, a sensation washed over him. A familiar, suffocating presence. He hesitated.
'An illusion.' His eyes narrowed. 'He can create illusions with heat signatures?'
Withdrawing his hand, he moved to the next door. This time, the room was empty. He checked again—nothing. No figures, no lurking shadows. He opened the door and stepped inside.
At first, it seemed normal. But when he turned back toward the hallway—his stomach dropped.
The corridor had changed. The door he had entered through was now at the far end, as if he had never moved forward. The walls stretched unnaturally, their damp surfaces glistening under the dim light.
Leo exhaled slowly. Was that a trap?
Tightening his grip on his sword, he activated Moonlit Gaze once more.
Countless rooms stretched before him, each containing something different—some had broken furniture, others had shadows shifting inside. Then, in one of them, a man sat on a massive chair, unmoving.
'It's him.'
Leo took off, sprinting toward the room. But no matter how fast he ran, the distance never shrank. The door remained agonizingly out of reach, like a mirage stretching endlessly before him.
He ground to a stop. 'Not that easy, huh?'
Then a door behind him creaked open. A cold, damp wind slithered through the corridor.
Leo shifted into a fighting stance, his sword flaring to life with golden light that danced along the blade's edge. The shadows around him recoiled slightly as he turned to face the opening.
A figure emerged.
"Wina?"
She stepped forward, limping. Her clothes were torn, and her face looked pale.
"Leo? What's going on here?" she asked, voice laced with exhaustion.
Something was off.
Leo approached cautiously, his grip tightening on his sword. He took her hand.
"Thank you," she whispered.
As he pressed something into her palm, her expression twisted in confusion. She looked down—a spell paper.
Her head snapped up just as Leo's foot crashed into her stomach.
She was sent flying backward, her body flipping into the darkened room.
Boom.
The Mana Surge Snare activated, flooding the space with violent energy.
"This level of illusions won't work on me."
The thing that had looked like Wina convulsed violently. Its form twisted and warped, its skin melting into a thick, black mass. It peeled away from itself, retreating into the walls like liquid shadow.
Then three more doors groaned open.
Leo turned.
More figures emerged.
They crawled on all fours, their limbs too long, their movements wrong—twisted, jerky, unnatural. Some clung to the walls, their heads tilting at impossible angles, black eyes locking onto him. Others dangled from the ceiling like puppets, their fingers twitching.
The moment they saw him, they charged.
Leo flung a ball of light at the closest one and turned, sprinting down the corridor.
"Leo, my hand is bleeding—help me," Liamond's voice called weakly.
He did not turn around.
"Leo, why did you attack me?"
Wina's voice. His heart pounded, but he kept running.
"Where were you? I needed your help," Elna's voice cried.
Leo clenched his teeth.
Without looking back, he took out his shield and he flung his last Mana Surge Snare behind him and turned, raising his shield. The explosion struck, the force pressing against him. His shield absorbed the worst of it, but it still sent a shockwave through his arms.
The blast slowed the shadows, buying him just enough time to turn and sprint away.
At the corridor's end was a door. He raised his hand and launched two fireballs. The wood exploded into burning fragments.
He lunged inside and the shadows didn't follow. Leo straightened, his breathing heavy, his grip still tight on his sword. Then, he looked up.
A man sat on a grand chair, shrouded in the dim light of the chamber. A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the space.
"Congratulations," the man murmured, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. "You won."
Leo's gaze locked onto the man for a few seconds, his muscles tensing.
Valion smirked. "What? No questions?"
"Is Mr. Albert safe?" Leo asked.
Valion blinked. "Albert?"
"The man whose shape you took."
"Oh, that man?" A small smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, I just knocked him out." His tone was casual, and there was no trace of deceit in his voice.
Leo's expression darkened. His gaze bore into the man, unflinching. "Was that your whole game?" His voice was cold, cutting through the space between them like a blade.
"It was supposed to be more fun, but for some reason, you didn't open a single door with a trap," Valion said, tilting his head as if studying something peculiar. "Strange, isn't it?"
Leo ignored the bait. "Are my friends safe?"
"They're still trapped in their memories… but alive, for now."
A flicker of unease settled in Leo's chest, but he pushed it down. He couldn't afford distractions. "Who are you?"
A smile spread across the man's face. "Finally, a good question. My name is Valion Vulpeia, A3 Deathknight."
The title sent a chill down Leo's spine. "Deathknight?"
Valion raised a brow. "You don't know? What's your rank, kid?"
"D minus."
For a moment, Valion just stared. Then, amusement flickered in his expression as he leaned back in his chair. "Tell you what, kid. Join us, and I'll let your friends go."
Leo narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"You've got potential, and I don't want to kill you here."
A slow, simmering anger coiled in Leo's chest. "Why the hell is an A3 like you even messing with low-rankers like us?"
Valion shrugged. "I was supposed to kill A ranks here, but it turns out the protectors of this city are weaker than I thought. There are two A ranks fighting my lady right now, and they're not doing too well. I also considered taking out that paladin—the one holding the spell protecting the city and enhancing everyone inside—but that would make things boring for her. And I wouldn't want that."
Leo's fingers twitched. "Your lady? Who is she?"
Valion's smirk remained. "Don't worry about that. Just give me your answer."
Leo's face hardened. "I refuse. Even if you kept your promise, I know your lady wouldn't. You're here for something, and I'm sure the moment you get it, you'll kill everyone in this city."
Valion's expression darkened, his previous amusement fading as he sighed and raised a single finger. "That's too bad."
A black light shot out.
Leo barely had time to raise his shield before it hit. The impact slammed into him like a battering ram, his shield absorbing most of the energy, but the force sent him stumbling backward. His sword and shield slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground several meters away.
Valion's smirk widened. "Oh? You survived that?"
Another attack came, faster than before and Leo had nothing to block it.
Then—something slammed into him, knocking him aside. He hit the ground hard, pain flaring through his body as he scrambled to push himself up. His breath caught.
"Mr. Frank—?"
His voice stuck in his throat.
Frank stood there, shield raised, but a massive hole had been blasted through it and through him. Blood poured from the wound, seeping into his clothes and pooling at his feet. He coughed, red spilling from his lips. His knees wobbled before he collapsed.
"Mr. Frank!"
Leo scrambled forward, hands trembling as he pressed them over the wound. His sword lay nearby. He reached for it, channeling every ounce of healing magic he could. A dim, golden light enveloped Frank's body, but the healing was too slow.
The blood wouldn't stop.
"Save… your strength," Frank rasped, voice barely above a whisper.
Leo clenched his teeth. "Don't talk. I'll heal you."
Frank's trembling hand gripped Leo's. Weak, but firm.
Leo looked up, and for a brief second, Frank's face still held that same warm smile he always had. But then, the warmth vanished. His face slackened, his eyes empty.
Leo's healing spell was still active, but there was nothing left to heal.
Silence.
Valion chuckled. "He's dead, kid."
Leo didn't move.
"You know… if you'd accepted my offer, he'd still be alive. At least for a few more hours."
Then, he laughed. A slow, cruel laugh.
Something inside Leo snapped. He rose to his feet, his breath steady, controlled. His head tilted slightly downward, shadows hiding his expression. The air thickened.
Valion's laughter faded.
Leo lifted his gaze, eyes burning with something beyond rage. "I'll kill you."
A surge of power flooded his body as Selvanna's Domain wrapped around him, mana coursing through his veins. His sword, still clutched in his trembling hand, began to glow, the sheer force of his magic making it tremble against his grip. Then, he moved.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched forward, faster than before.
And with every ounce of power in his body, he brought his sword down in a devastating strike.
The sword hit a black and smoky like barrier. Valion was sitting there, smiling without moving a finger.
The sword collided with the barrier for a few second and then, with a load sound of shattering iron, it turned into pieces and a wave of shadow and light throw Leo back. He hit the wall and drop to the ground.
He looked at the sword of light in his hand—only the hilt remained.
"Did you really think that this sword can hurt me?" his tone became playful again. "What about this, I'll bring your friends here and kill them one by one until you accept to join us?"
Leo lay sprawled on the cold wooden floor, his body aching from the impact. His vision blurred for a moment, but his grip remained steady as he reached into his bag.
Despair. Sorrow. Rage. They all churned inside him, but anger burned the fiercest—hot and unwavering.
"No, only one person will die here." He took out a vial of blood, "and that's you."
…
The colossal ice sword hurtled toward Edgarth and Ryan, its freezing edge splitting the very air in its path. The sheer force of it distorted the space around it, promising instant destruction.
But then—reality itself twisted and the Empress stopped her sword.
The air near the Empress shimmered unnaturally, rippling like the surface of a disturbed lake. And, without warning, it peeled apart—not as if torn, but as if an invisible curtain had been drawn aside, revealing something that had been there all along, hidden beyond mortal perception.
From the depths of this rift, a figure emerged.
A man clad in full black armor, its surface so dark it seemed to drink the surrounding light, warping the shadows around him. Wisps of living darkness curled around the plated metal, moving unnaturally, as if the armor itself was alive.
A massive helmet adorned with two curved horns sat upon his head, its design both regal and demonic. His face was completely obscured, swallowed by the abyss beneath the helmet. No light reflected from within—only a void, empty yet all-seeing.
The very city trembled.
Even with the protective spell enveloping the capital, buildings groaned under the pressure of his presence, stone and glass shuddering as if bending to an unseen force. The ground of the city fractured with hairline cracks, spreading like veins through the earth.
Edgarth and Ryan froze.
Ryan swallowed hard, his throat dry. His voice wavered as he whispered, "What the hell... is that?"
The figure remained silent for a moment, his unseen gaze sweeping the battlefield. His presence alone was suffocating, a pressure unlike anything they had ever felt.
Then, his head turned to the Empress. And in a voice like distant thunder, he spoke. "Let's begin."