At the very top of a tall building not far from the Hazandeen International High School complex.
Two figures stood silently, gazing down upon the bustling city of Makazhar that was beginning to grow lively again as the late afternoon unfolded.
Both of them wore dark brownish cloaks with deep hoods pulled low, their faces concealed beneath heavy shadows.
The evening wind blew strongly across the rooftop, tugging at the edges of their cloaks and making the fabric whip in the air, giving an even more mysterious impression to their presence.
One of the figures seemed to freeze in place, caught off guard the moment his eyes fell upon Al, who had just stepped out from the school gates.
Hidden beneath the hood, his eyes widened slightly, and his breathing hitched for the briefest second.
"What is it?" the other figure asked, noticing how his companion's attention was locked entirely on Al.
"That boy…?" the figure murmured, his low voice carrying a faint tremor, as if suppressing an emotion he did not want to show.
"Hmm." The other one shifted her gaze toward Al as well. "Do you know that boy?" she asked, her tone laced with a hint of puzzlement.
After staring intently for a moment, the first figure slowly shook his head.
"No. I only thought he looked familiar. But perhaps I was mistaken," he replied calmly.
"I didn't know you had the habit of rambling on a bright day like this. Haha." The other spoke with a mocking undertone as she pulled back her hood.
Her laugh was light, but her eyes were sharp, scrutinizing.
"Still, that kid is kind of cute." She added.
Revealed beneath the hood was the face of a woman who appeared mature, her long hair cascading down in strands of black and silver.
A dark line marked her right cheek, stretching from beneath her eye all the way down to her chin. Her sharp gaze carried weight, yet the faint smile curving her lips made her appear all the more dangerous.
"Stop joking around. Our mission matters far more than toying with some useless boy," the other figure said sternly as he removed his hood as well.
His face was that of a grown man with medium-length hair, colored with shades of dark brown and black. Two black lines extended from beneath his right eye down to his chin.
His expression was rigid, like stone carved without the slightest hint of laughter.
"Relax, relax. Those artifacts aren't going anywhere. We'll find them sooner or later," the woman said playfully, folding her arms across her chest as she casually glanced over the sprawling city below.
"Be serious!" the man snapped, his voice echoing sharply across the rooftop, instantly killing the mood.
"We don't even know the exact location of the artifacts yet. And don't assume we're the only ones searching for them. So take this mission seriously," he continued.
"Ugh… you really can't take a single joke, can you?" the woman complained, turning her face away with a slight pout. "You don't need to lecture me. I know that already."
The man fell silent, letting her throw her little tantrum. Meanwhile, she walked a few steps away and stared at the city from the edge of the rooftop.
"By the way… I still don't get why the information about those ancient artifacts points to this city. This place doesn't look like some hidden or ancient area at all," she wondered aloud.
"You've got a point," the man replied. "Even though it's not considered a top-tier city, modernization here is already pretty advanced. It's only natural to think the magical influence has faded—let alone finding ancient artifacts."
"Hm? Then?" she murmured curiously, turning back to him.
He walked over to stand beside her. "This is just my theory, but I think it's all because of this city's history."
"History?" Her curiosity deepened.
"Yep," he answered. "And since I'm a native here, let me explain."
And so he did.
Back when magic was still common, almost the entire eastern region of Indorosia was ruled by a great kingdom known as the Gouva Kingdom.
At the peak of its glory, it was led by King Zaltan Hazandeen—famously nicknamed The Crimson Rooster of the East. His military was considered one of the strongest of that era.
That golden age made the eastern region highly significant. It became the central maritime route in ancient times.
Anyone who wanted to enter the eastern territory of the country had to pass through here.
And that allowed magical phenomena—including ancient artifacts—to surface and circulate in this area.
A great catastrophe struck centuries ago during the colonial era, when technology and machinery began overshadowing magic.
Civilizations and kingdoms were destroyed. Renowned figures sacrificed themselves as heroes who resisted the invaders—King Hazandeen among them.
Magical civilization gradually declined. People grew more comfortable relying on machines rather than studying magic.
All that remained were ancient legacies—artifacts whose true functions were mostly forgotten by the modern generation.
Some people cherished them as ancestral heritage.
Some dismissed them as worthless junk that just happened to carry the label 'antique.'
Some even threw them away, unaware of their true value.
That was as far as his explanation went.
The woman nodded slowly. Even though some of his points were merely assumptions and theories, most of the history he shared was undeniably fascinating.
"So that's how it is. This region really does have quite a grand history," she said in understanding. "And you know a lot about it. I guess I should study more too. It might help me handle missions like this in the future."
"Exactly," the man replied. "And I think we've stayed here long enough. Unfortunately, no positive results today. It's probably time for us to leave."
"You're right." She glanced at the darkening sky. "Huff… after observing this area all day, we didn't find anything. We couldn't even sense the slightest trace of that artifact. And now we have to leave again… what a pain."
She then pulled out a white talisman inscribed with ancient runes from inside her cloak.
"Good thing that little street fight earlier was at least entertaining. Not everything that happened today was a total loss, hehe," she added with a light chuckle.
She brushed her fingers across the surface of the talisman.
Her fingers were slender and delicate, yet her movements were swift and precise—the kind that could only come from long practice with ritual magic.
Their eyes met.
The man nodded in understanding.
"I told you this mission wouldn't be easy. So cut down on the whining and fooling around," the man said calmly.
He gave the area one last look. "Sir Fahruk will handle the follow-up for this location. As for us… our next target is…"
He revealed a similar white talisman in his hand.
He stared at it with an expression as though he were looking at a map leading straight into hell.
"…that place."
Then—
WOSHHHH!
A surge of thick black smoke erupted from the talisman, dense yet cutting, enveloping them both.
The smoke twisted violently, swirling into a vortex like the jaws of darkness ready to devour everything in its path.
Within its rotation, faint whispers echoed—like the fragmented cries of a thousand restless souls.
The two figures exchanged faint smiles as they pulled their hoods back on. The smoke swallowed their bodies completely, and in the next instant, they were gone.
Only a torn fragment of the talisman, nearly burned to ashes, was left behind. The piece drifted slowly through the air, carried away by the evening wind, as though it were the sole silent witness to their departure.
---
Meanwhile, Al had already put quite some distance between himself and the school grounds.
Even though he planned to head straight home, he took his time, strolling along the sidewalk as the cool afternoon breeze brushed softly against his face.
Then—
His magical instincts stirred.
Something unusual.
From somewhere high above, he sensed a strange magical phenomenon—fleeting, but sharp enough to catch his attention.
Without turning around, he quietly sharpened his magical sense.
Too late.
Whatever it was had already vanished, leaving behind nothing but a faint residue of energy lingering in the air.
Fortunately, that residual aura felt familiar.
He knew it.
A magical signature belonging to a group he was more than acquainted with.
A faint smile curved on his lips.
"That group's getting more and more bold with how they move around this city. No idea what they're after…" he muttered calmly.
"But if they end up crossing paths with me—or my people…"
His eyes sharpened, turning cold.
"They'd better step aside."
A brief pause.
"…Because this city is my domain."
And just like that, he continued walking, as if nothing had happened.