"Is everything ready?" the Empress asked, her voice steady and commanding.
"The Pope won't sense anything here," the Black Knight replied. "And even if he does, the beast is already half-awakened. He'll have no choice but to go there."
His gaze shifted to Ryan and Edgarth, his expression unreadable.
"I see you still have a habit of toying with your prey," he remarked, barely sparing them a glance before turning his attention to the towering golden wall before him.
With a simple raise of his hand, he unleashed a surge of mana in its direction. The sheer pressure of his power alone was enough to bring the entire wall crumbling down.
On the other side, silence fell. Every eye locked onto him, frozen in place. In the mouth of the colossal salamander stood Oryu, trapped between its fangs.
The Black Knight moved his finger ever so slightly, and a wave of shadow shot forward—a slash of pure darkness. It sliced through the beast in an instant. The salamander erupted into a violent explosion of flesh and fire.
"Did he just kill his own ally?" Cristina asked, standing near Cirnath, disbelief evident in her voice.
Before anyone could answer, the staff in Gerhard's hand disappeared and the massive doors of the church, which belonged to Oryu's domain, creaked open. From within, Oryu stepped out, wearing the same knowing smile as always, completely unscathed. His staff was in his hands.
"Oryu, activate the compass," the Black Knight commanded. His tone left no room for argument.
Oryu flew over and landed beside him. Without hesitation, he pulled out a compass and held it high in the air. That was when he noticed Edgarth's stunned expression.
"Don't look so surprised," Oryu said with a smirk. "I took this long before you arrived—back when that A rank attacked the city and I claimed the staff." His voice turned mocking as he added, "Looks like you're not the only one who can fool a spell." His was pointing out Edmond's sword.
With a smooth motion, he channeled his mana into the compass. A pulse of invisible energy radiated outward, surging through the air every few moments as if searching for something unseen.
…
In the Land of Darkness
The archmage, Hulda Kroll, was locked in a fierce battle against shadow creatures—all of them A rank.
Beside her, hundreds of rankers from all three kingdoms fought relentlessly, their weapons clashing against the monstrous horde.
Above them, high in the storm-darkened sky, two S rank warriors clashed with terrifying force. Hulda recognized one of them—the man responsible for attempting to awaken the beast—Iralian Desimus. His opponent was another S-rank, a warrior from the Kingdom of the North.
Beyond the battlefield, behind the endless swarm of creatures, loomed a massive sphere of pure void. Hulda could hear the slow, ominous breathing of the beast inside. No matter how many monsters they slew, more kept emerging from the abyssal sphere, an unending tide of darkness.
Without warning, a massive tail lashed out from the shadows, slicing through the air with deadly precision. Hulda barely had time to react before pain exploded through her arm—her hand severed in an instant.
"Ahh!" she gasped, staggering back.
Before the monster could finish her off, a warrior clad in heavy white armor lunged forward, his blade glistening with frost. He struck down the creature with a single, powerful slash.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his breath visible in the frigid aura surrounding him.
"Yes," Hulda managed through gritted teeth, pressing against her wounded arm.
The northern warrior nodded, wasting no time. Without waiting for thanks, he turned and charged at the next wave of enemies.
A woman rushed to Hulda's side, her expression frantic. "My lady, if this continues, we'll be overrun!" she shouted over the din of battle.
Hulda scanned the battlefield, searching for a solution, but despair clawed at her. There was no end to the creatures. No matter how many they killed, the void continued to pour out more.
Then, suddenly a light came. A blinding sphere, like a miniature sun, burst into existence above them, flooding the battlefield with radiant energy. The surge of holy magic vaporized the nearest creatures, turning them to dust in an instant.
Hulda's gaze snapped upward, seeking the source of the overwhelming power.
Four figures hovered above the battlefield, their presence undeniable. The Grand Magister of the Kingdom of Magic, the Crown Prince of the North, and the Pope—alongside another figure from the Kingdom of Light.
That spell... it had to be the Pope's doing.
A murmur of relief spread through the exhausted ranks.
"We're saved!" someone between them shouted.
The northern prince's voice rang out, calm but commanding. "Let's put this creature back to sleep before it fully awakens."
Then, all at once, the three S-ranks unleashed their power. A wave of mana, vast and unrelenting like a tidal surge, cascaded over the battlefield—drowning everything in raw, unstoppable magic.
…
Leo reached into his bag and pulled out a small glass vial. Inside, thick, crimson liquid sloshed sluggishly against the glass.
Valion's sharp eyes immediately caught sight of it. His smirk widened, arrogance dripping from his every word. "Is that… vampire blood?" He let out a short, amused chuckle. "What exactly are you planning to do with it? Turn yourself into one of them? You do realize there's a process for that, don't you?"
His blue eyes gleamed with condescension. "Even if you could somehow bypass the transformation rituals and become a vampire instantly… you'd still be far weaker than me." His voice held a mocking lilt, as if the mere idea was laughable.
Leo didn't respond. Instead, he turned the vial over in his fingers once—then let it slip from his grasp.
Glass shattered against the cold stone floor, and the thick blood spilled out in a dark pool, soaking into the cracks.
At that exact moment, Leo's mind flared with mana as he reached out with telekinesis, summoning his shield to his side. The heavy metal plate flew across the room, snapping into place beside him with a dull thud.
Valion watched with mild amusement, arms crossed over his chest.
"You're right." Leo lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable. "You are powerful." A pause. "And we are desperate."
Valion's eyebrow rose slightly. His amusement hadn't disappeared, but now there was something else—a flicker of interest.
Leo extended his right hand over the bloodstained floor, fingers trembling slightly. His left hand plunged into his bag, closing around the parchment he had prepared for this exact moment.
'Now that I think about it… I never named this spell.'
There was no time to dwell on it. He needed a name. A name that had never been written before. A name that did not exist, ensuring no one could find it.
His mind raced. 'Obscurae.'
A single word. A name of his own creation. It would serve.
His grip on the parchment tightened as he channeled his mana into it, the air around him thrumming with raw energy.
He met Valion's gaze again, this time with cold fury. "We may die here…" His voice was steady, unwavering. "…but I'm taking you with me."
Then, he whispered the incantation.
"Obscurae."
The moment the word left his lips, the entire building shook.
The walls trembled. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling. The very foundation groaned under an unseen force.
Valion's smirk disappeared.
His eyes flicked around as the air grew heavier, darker. "…What did you do?" His voice was no longer mocking.
Leo didn't answer. His focus was elsewhere.
With a surge of mana, he activated his telepathy ring.
'Please work…'
At the same time, he reached for the scroll Ryan had given him, fingers tightening around the fragile parchment.
The darkness deepened.
From the room's edges, shadows began to seep out like living tendrils, curling and writhing across the stone. They slithered down the walls, pooling onto the floor, spreading unnaturally fast.
Then, from beyond the door, something surged forward.
A wave of shadow, vast and unstoppable, rushed down the corridor like a silent storm, heading straight for them.
Leo felt the connection snap into place. His telepathy ring pulsed. 'Everyone, jump out of the windows!'
There was no time to check if they had received the message. He poured his remaining mana into the scroll and placed a hand on Frank's still body.
The shadows lunged for him. Just before they reached him, he lifted his head—his eyes locking onto Valion's. And he smiled.
Not in defiance and not in desperation, but in victory. The message was clear, I won.
Then, in the blink of an eye—he vanished.
…
Valion's body tensed as he instinctively stepped back, forcing himself to regain his composure, he stood tall.
He raised his arm and a thick, impenetrable barrier of frost and shadow materialized around him, swirling with raw power. The ice shimmered like obsidian glass, reinforced by layers of dense, void-like energy.
He exhaled slowly, steadying his stance. Then, from within the encroaching darkness, two eyes appeared.
Not human.
Twin glowing blue eyes pierced through the void, locking onto him.
Valion felt something stir deep within his chest. A sensation he hadn't felt for a long time. A cold, creeping dread.
This wasn't mere magic. It was presence.
An ancient, suffocating power pressed against him like an invisible weight, seeping into his bones, curling around his lungs. The shield trembled and his magic flickered.
His lips parted, the words barely a whisper. "…What are you?"
The blue eyes narrowed and the shield collapsed. And then—pain. A sudden, indescribable agony exploded inside his skull.
Blood poured from his eyes, his ears, his nose. His body convulsed, his limbs locking in place as if unseen hands had wrapped around him, crushing him from the inside out.
He barely had time to scream before—
BOOM.
A sickening, muffled explosion filled the room.
Valion's body detonated into a rain of gore, staining the stone walls in crimson.
…
Leo reappeared in a small, dimly lit house. His knees buckled and his entire body screamed in exhaustion, drained beyond its limits. He collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, gasping for breath.
His vision blurred.
Beside him, Frank's body lay unmoving. Lifeless.
Leo's fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his own shirt.
He could feel the darkness creeping in—his consciousness slipping away.
The last thing he saw before the world turned black was the bloodstained scroll still clutched in his shaking hands.
Then—nothing.
…
The two S-rank figures stood in anticipation, waiting for Oryu to complete the spell, when something unexpected caught their attention. Both of them turned sharply, their eyes narrowing as they focused on the source of the anomaly.
"Valion!" the Empress whispered, her voice low but filled with alarm.
The Black Knight took a step forward, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared atop the building where Valion's domain stood. But before he could move further, the air above the structure cracked violently, as if reality itself was tearing open. A massive hand made of swirling shadows shot out toward him with terrifying speed. Without hesitation, the Black Knight raised his arm, summoning a shield of void-like energy in a desperate attempt to block the strike. The shadowy hand collided with the shield, and despite the immense power he put into it, the force of the blow sent him skidding backward for a long distance. It wasn't until the hand had fully extended that it stopped and slowly faded into nothingness.
The Empress appeared beside him in an instant, her expression hard and calculating. "What was that?" she demanded.
"The Goddess of the Moon," the Black Knight said, his voice tinged with frustration.
His armor, despite the shield he had used to block the attack, was in ruins. The once-pristine surface was riddled with cracks, and blood seeped from multiple gashes in his arm.
"This is not good," he muttered, his gaze darkening as he looked down at the damage. "An anomaly like this... He'll feel it."
The Empress locked eyes with him, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Then we must hurry."
…
In the Land of Darkness, the four S-rank figures stood in unison. Three of them had their hands raised as they chanted in ancient tongues. Slowly, a massive circle of intricate, glowing magic marks appeared above the void sphere where the creature lay dormant. The marks pulsed with energy, the air thickening with power.
Three of the S-rank figures stood at specific points around the circle and they poured mana into the spell. The energy flowing from them intensified the magic, the symbols in the air spinning faster, aligning with each breath they took.
But then, far in the distance, something caught the Pope's attention. His sharp eyes narrowed as his gaze fixed on the source of the disturbance, the anomaly flickering ominously in the far reaches of the land. The man standing beside him, sensing his focus, turned toward him, his voice uncertain but respectful.
"Your Holiness…".
Without a word, the Pope turned his head toward the man and gave a curt nod, his voice low but commanding. "Take my place."
The man, understanding the gravity of the situation, didn't hesitate. With a firm nod, he stepped forward, positioning himself at one of the points of the magical circle, injecting his own mana into the spell, continuing the delicate process of maintaining the complex ritual.
The Pope, however, didn't take his eyes off the anomaly in the distance. His expression hardened as he watched the disturbance, sensing the growing danger. Without another word, he vanished in a ripple of light, his figure disappearing into the vastness, leaving the man behind to carry on his task.