Leo looked around the table, meeting each face in turn before he spoke.
"As planned, we begin the expedition tomorrow," he said, his voice calm but edged with resolve. "We have one month to explore that city before returning to prepare for our attack on the vampires."
"And to celebrate your nineteenth birthday here," Ryan added with a teasing grin.
Leo exhaled a quiet sigh. He'd argued against it too many times already; they wouldn't listen. The others saw the celebration as something more than a birthday, it was a promise that they'd all make it back alive.
"The city," Leo continued, straightening, "belonged to a man once called the greatest scientist of all time. We don't know who he really was, and the place could be filled with traps. As planned, Arthur will move ahead to detect anything dangerous before we enter, in two groups."
The meeting went on, but Leo's thoughts drifted beneath the surface. That city could hold answers, two, in particular, that he desperately needed.
The first was the Maze of Madness. From the book he'd recovered, he knew it wasn't just a legend. The Maze was tied to the Mad God himself, a trap disguised as revelation. Those who entered it made a pact, some knowingly, others tricked into doing so. And only one man had ever escaped. The stories said that when he returned, he'd forgotten everything, his name, his purpose, even the faces of those he loved. His mind had been devoured by something within the Maze.
Leo had spent long nights wondering why. Was it the sheer horror of what lay inside? Or was the Maze designed to erase truth, to keep the knowledge of that place sealed away? If that were true, it could hold the key to what he was planning next.
The second thing he sought was knowledge about creation itself, the foundation of the spell he'd been building for months. His latest version was unstable. It worked, but only barely, and it drained mana like a bottomless void. Even within his domain, he could only activate it three times at most. Yet he knew, deep down, that this spell was the key. If he could finish it, he'd be one step closer to reaching S-rank… and one step closer to what lay beyond.
The group spent another hour refining their plans before scattering to make final preparations.
Later that day, Leo walked through the streets of Hope with Elna beside him. The city was quiet, its stone paths glistening faintly with dew. The faint hum of wards resonated through the air, a constant reminder of how far they'd come from the ruins they had first arrived to.
Elna brushed her hand lightly against his as they walked. "You're thinking too much again," she said softly.
Leo gave a small smile. "Habit, I guess."
"Worrying won't make the fight easier," she said, glancing at him with a half-smirk. "But I suppose it's very you."
He chuckled quietly. The sound echoed faintly between the buildings. As they turned a corner, the scent of fresh bread drifted from one of the newer homes. The people were rebuilding, slowly, stubbornly, and it reminded him of the early mornings when he used to patrol the capital's streets as a paladin. The rhythm, the quiet and faint light of trees, it all grounded him.
Maybe that was why he walked these streets. Maybe it was his way of remembering what they were fighting for.
Because he was known as the vessel of the Creator, everyone in the city bowed when they saw him. Leo only gave them small nods in return, a quiet acknowledgment rather than the worship they offered.
They walked the streets as they often did, Elna's steps matching his. But today, unlike the other days, Leo stopped on a street higher than the rest, where the view opened onto the city below. Hope sprawled out in color beneath the muted sky, banners fluttering, new homes rising, lives beginning again.
Elna came to stand beside him. She could read his face by now; there was something in his expression, some weight he had carried too long.
"Is something wrong?" she asked softly.
Leo smiled faintly. "Do you remember when I told you that, when the time came, I'd tell you everything?"
Elna nodded, her eyes searching his.
"Now that you're A-rank," he said, "I've already told you every secret I know about this world, the same as I told the others. But…" He turned to look at her directly. His gaze was steady, but there was something almost vulnerable behind it. "I still have secrets of my own. Things only I know."
Elna waited, patient as ever, though her heart had begun to beat faster.
"I am Leo Mantine," he said quietly, "and I am also not."
Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Before answering, Leo raised his hand and wove a few quick protection spells into the air around them. The wards shimmered faintly, sealing them off. The rest of the city's barrier would hold the rest.
"Once," he said at last, "I was a man in another world. And then one day… I woke up in Leo's body."
Elna blinked, her lips parting. "So you're not Leo?"
"I'm the Leo you see now," he replied, his voice low. "But the real one, the boy who was born here, he was already dead before I came. Murdered."
His eyes flicked up to hers, full of worry. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you this. I didn't even know if I should."
Elna's expression softened. She reached out and took his hand. "For me," she said gently, "you are the Leo you were meant to be." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. "You're my Leo."
They stood like that for a long moment, the city below a blur of colors.
Then Elna lifted her head. "What was your name before? And how did you get here?"
Leo frowned faintly. His old name hovered at the edge of his memory like a ghost. "My name was…"
Suddenly, white-hot pain exploded behind his eyes. He staggered, dropping to one knee as if struck.
"Leo?" Elna's voice broke with alarm. She dropped down with him, hands on his shoulders. "Leo! Are you okay?"
Elna's voice grew distant, muffled by a ringing in his ears. The world around him dimmed until everything was swallowed by darkness. He knew at once this wasn't real, not the physical world, but something within his own mind.
In the span of a heartbeat, he stood in a place where there was nothing. Beneath his feet, a dark, viscous liquid rippled with every movement, reflecting nothing.
Leo tried to reach for his domain, to feel the familiar pulse of power that always answered his call, but there was nothing. His connection was gone, severed as though the concept of magic itself didn't exist here.
He turned slowly, scanning the void. Then he felt it, an immense, suffocating presence pressing against his soul. His breath caught.
And then, out of that darkness, two eyes opened, cold, dark blue, glowing faintly like dying stars. They fixed on him, not with malice, but with a grim, knowing awareness.
They weren't here to kill him. They were warning him.
Sweat traced down his temple. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The weight of that gaze made even his A-rank soul tremble. Deep within himself, something ancient and instinctive whispered a single truth.
Death.
Leo blinked, just once, and the world snapped back.
He lay on the stone street, the light from the trees illuminating the area around him. Elna knelt beside him, her eyes wide with worry, her hands trembling slightly as they held his shoulders.
"Leo…" she whispered.
He exhaled slowly, still disoriented. "How long was I… like this?"
"Just a few seconds," she said softly.
"Few seconds?" He frowned. "It felt like… minutes."
With her help, he rose to his feet. His body felt heavier somehow, as if that darkness had left a mark he couldn't see.
"It looks like," he said with a weary smile, "it's still too soon to speak my name."
Elna nodded gently, her eyes softening.
"One day," he said quietly.
"One day," she echoed, and pulled him into her arms again, holding him as though to keep the darkness from taking him a second time.
…
After his body had fully healed, Nikolaus had began his journey north. He chose not the easy roads, but the paths few dared to tread, rugged trails where even the wind howled in warning. After days of travel through ice and ruin, he could finally see it in the distance: the shadowed horizon, the black walls of the Shadowland. One more day, and he would be there.
The mountain air was thin and bitter. Snow whispered across jagged stone, yet no beast dared follow his steps. His mana, heavy and ancient, rolled off him like a stormfront enough to make the lesser creatures flee or cower in fear. In the dark ridges, unseen eyes glimmered, trembling in the cold shadow of his presence.
For an hour he walked in silence. Then, the wind shifted.
A guttural snarl tore through the stillness as ten figures emerged from behind the jagged rocks. Orcs. Massive, broad-shouldered, each built like a mountain of hardened muscle. Scars crisscrossed their skin in brutal patterns, trophies carved by battles long survived. Their skin tones varied, some a deep green, others a dirt-brown shade, and a few marked by a dark red. They gripped heavy axes and spiked maces, their breaths steaming in the frozen air.
Nikolaus raised his head slightly, the edge of his hood still shadowing his face.
"Orcs," he murmured.
They spread out, forming a semicircle. A grim smile spread across their tusked faces.
Slowly, Nikolaus removed his hood. His black hair caught the faint light of the snow. His gaze, cold, measured, met theirs.
"You don't want to do this."
The largest orc barked something in his harsh tongue, a challenge drowned in his roar. He charged, snow exploding under his boots.
Nikolaus didn't move.
A heartbeat later, the orc froze mid-stride. Thin crimson lines appeared across his body, dozens, hundreds, before his form came apart, collapsing soundlessly into the snow.
The others stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide.
Nikolaus's voice was quiet, almost pitying. "To not even sense the strength before you… arrogant creatures."
Before they could even draw breath to respond, Nikolaus vanished from where he stood. In the space between one gust of wind and the next, he passed through them, steel whispering like a sigh.
When the world caught up again, he was already walking past, sword sheathed.
Behind him, the orcs fell, one after another, into the snow, their lifeblood painting the white red.
Nikolaus did not look back. His boots left a trail of scarlet on the mountain's frozen surface as he continued toward the Shadowland.
…
The next morning, Leo and his group gathered at when dawn should be, the pale light of the city washing over their armor and cloaks. Each of them moved with quiet focus, checking weapons, adjusting straps, and inspecting every enchanted tool and crystal they carried. The air was heavy with purpose, and the unspoken awareness that this journey could change everything.
Arthur and Briva were the first to leave. They slipped ahead into the gloom, Arthur extending his divination senses to scout for traps and hidden wards, while Briva moved beside him, her falcon Ashen circling high above like a silent shadow.
Ryan and Edgarth departed next, heading toward one of the teleportation markers they had placed days before. From there, they would rendezvous with Luciana and proceed toward the target city from another direction, forming a converging approach.
An hour later, Leo, Elna, and Arlasan began their own trek. The Shadowland was unnervingly quiet, only the crunch of their boots broke the silence. The corrupted wind carried whispers that weren't quite words, brushing at the edges of their minds.
They used the teleportation spells from their last expeditions, each jump carrying them deeper into the lands. After nearly four hours, the terrain shifted. The ground sloped upward, and the first shape of the city appeared through the haze, an immense wall of blackened stone, stretching so far that its ends vanished into darkness. No towers rose above it; or if they did, they were swallowed whole by the gloom.
The others were already there, waiting by the shadow of the gate. Their figures stood outlined in the dim light, silent, ready, and tense.
Leo stood beside Arthur, staring up at the massive iron gate before them. It loomed like the mouth of a slumbering giant, its surface layered with interlocking gears and rusted chains that whispered faintly in the wind. A faint hum of ancient magic pulsed through the metal, a warning from another age.
Leo glanced at Arthur, who studied the sigils etched across the gate's frame. After a long moment, Arthur gave a slow, firm nod.
Leo turned back to the gate, his eyes narrowing. "Let's begin."