The sun rose gently over Novara, its light spilling across the rooftops and chasing away the last shadows of night. The streets slowly awakened with the sounds of merchants setting up their stalls, the smell of fresh bread drifting through the cool air, and the laughter of children echoing faintly between stone walls.
Milo woke up with the first light of dawn, quickly washing up and dressing in his usual dark clothes.
In the kitchen, Milena was already waiting. They shared a simple breakfast together, talking lightly, her calm smile steadying him for the day.
After finishing, Milo put on his necklace and stepped outside. The fresh morning air of Novara greeted him, filled with the scents of bread and the distant chatter of the waking city.
Not far from his house, Milo ran into Hirax.
"Morning, Milo!" Hirax greeted with his usual energy.
Milo smiled faintly. "Morning, Hira."
Together, they made their way through the busy streets of Novara, heading straight toward the Guild Agency for their daily training.
After finishing their training at the Guild Agency, they exchanged a quick glance and a small smile.
"See you later, Milo!" Hirax said as he headed off in his own direction.
"Alright, Hira. Take care," Milo replied calmly.
They parted ways, each walking their own path. Milo strolled through the streets of Novara, enjoying the cool breeze and the scent of fresh bread, before finally arriving home, feeling a sense of relief after a long day of training.
Milo sat quietly in his house, resting after the day's training. The warm glow of the evening sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room.
Suddenly, a notification chimed from his device. Milo picked it up, and his eyes widened slightly as he saw the sender: Toxifar.
He opened the message carefully, curious and alert, wondering what news or task awaited him.
Milo stared at the message on his device:
"Meet me by the orphanage." Toxifar
Milo looked at the message, his expression calm but determined.
"No choice..." he muttered to himself.
After a moment of thought, he made up his mind. With a deep breath, he stood up and prepared to head toward the orphanage, ready for whatever awaited him there.
By chance, Milo met his sister at the door.
"Milena? You're up early," he said.
"Yes, hello!" she replied warmly.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
Milo brushed past her, heading out the door.
"I'm just going for a little walk," he said, keeping his voice calm and casual.
Milo walked into the poorer district of Novara, weaving through narrow, crowded streets as he made his way toward the orphanage. The air was thick with the smells of cooking fires and worn stone, and the sounds of daily life filled the alleys.
When he finally arrived, he found Toxifar standing there, waiting. The figure was calm and composed, yet his presence carried a subtle weight that made Milo tense slightly.
From a short distance away, Milo called out,
"Toxifar! I'm here."
Toxifar turned his head toward him, a faint smile crossing his face.
"Welcome, Milo," he said calmly, his tone carrying both warmth and mystery.
Milo stepped closer, his gaze steady on Toxifar.
"So, what do you want? You asked me to come here, and I made time for you. I'm keeping my word repaying the debt I owe you. So tell me, what is it that you want?"
Toxifar smiled and straightened his posture, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of intrigue.
"In truth, I want you to come with me to our headquarters," he said.
"I'd like to introduce you to the Troublemakers."
Milo felt a flicker of doubt rise inside him, his confidence slipping slightly.
"Why? I'm only an ally... what would you even gain from this? I could betray you, expose everything."
Before he could take another step back, Toxifar moved closer, placing a firm yet calm hand on Milo's shoulder.
"I know you won't," he said softly, his eyes meeting Milo's. "Because we're friends... right?
Milo lifted his gaze toward Toxifar, his calm brown eyes studying him carefully, trying to read his intentions. Milo wore his usual dark clothes, a necklace hanging around his neck, and his medium-length brown hair slightly wavy, giving him a youthful yet sharp appearance. His body was well-trained, his movements measured, and his eyes carried a calm confidence, despite the trace of doubt creeping in.
Toxifar, on the other hand, stood with quiet confidence, his long green hair falling over his shoulders, catching the faint sunlight over the poorer district. A subtle, sly smile curved his lips, and his bright green eyes shone with sharp intelligence. His hands were relaxed but ready, as if anticipating any sudden move.
Milo exhaled slowly and spoke in a calm yet firm voice,
"Alright... let's go."
Toxifar returned a faint smile, and together they took their first steps toward the unknown, each carrying their own secrets, yet a cautious thread of trust began to weave between them.
Milo and Toxifar reached a quiet, empty square in the poor district. Broken cobblestones, weathered walls, and stray cats moving between shadows marked the area. Milo stayed alert, while Toxifar walked calmly, his green hair catching the dim sunlight.
Milo looked around, then spoke seriously,
"I know this place... no one comes here. I mean, only a few people actually live here. This is the worst area in the poor district, right?"
Toxifar walked toward an abandoned house and opened its door.
"Yeah... but the entire poor district is bad anyway, thanks to the Church," he said calmly.
Toxifar said, "We've arrived. Let's go."
He followed Toxifar inside. The house was slightly abandoned and dimly lit, shadows stretching across the cracked walls.
Milo frowned in surprise and said,
"Toxifar... are you sure this is the place? It's so dark in here."
Toxifar spoke coldly,
"Do you think I would kill you here?"
Milo tensed, his instincts kicking in, ready to fight.
Toxifar turned in an unusual manner and looked at him.
"If that's what you think, then you are..."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Then, Toxifar pressed his foot against the floor.
After a moment of calm, he spoke again,
"You are mistaken."
A hidden door in the floor opened, revealing a staircase leading down.
Milo took a deep breath, straightening his posture.
"Damn, your tricked..."
He glanced down at the staircase.
"Hmm... a secret area, huh? So this is where the troublemakers gather?"
Toxifar descended the staircase, turning to Milo.
"Yes, this is where we hide... and where we gather."
They descended to the underground floor, and Milo was stunned by what he saw.
The place was surprisingly clean, with several people sitting around, all turning their gaze toward him and Toxifar.
"Oh, it's Toxifar... and he's brought someone else," murmured one of them.
Some sat at tables playing cards, others drank, and a few engaged in quiet conversation.
Milo was surprised.
"So... all of these are the troublemakers?" he asked.
Toxifar replied calmly, "These are some of the members."
Suddenly, a person with thick blond hair stepped in front of Milo.
"Hey Toxifar, did you bring a new fool here?" he said, standing tall before Milo, his stance challenging, as if testing him.
Toxifar stayed silent, waiting for Milo's reaction.
Milo looked at the blond-haired man, then turned to Toxifar.
"Come on, show me the rest of the hideout," Toxifar said calmly.
Suddenly, the man grabbed Milo by the hair.
"You little brat! When I look at you, don't you dare"
Before he could finish, he found himself on the ground, Milo holding him down, gripping his hand as if he could break it.
The blond man was furious, but he couldn't move.
Milo pressed harder, as if about to break his hand. Suddenly, Toxifar grabbed Milo's hand and spoke in a calm voice,
"Milo, please stop... no fighting inside the headquarters."
Milo let go, and the man slowly got up, still angry but too intimidated to confront Milo again.
The blond-haired man, still angry, grabbed his arm and glared at Milo.
"Remember me," he muttered, then continued on his way.
The rest of the gang members looked at Milo with newfound respect after what he had done.
Toxifar, watching him, felt even more impressed by Milo.
Toxifar continued walking and called out to Milo to follow him.
Milo, holding his phone, quietly took pictures of all the members and the place before anyone noticed, then turned off his phone.
As they walked through the hideout, Milo discreetly took photos of the place without Toxifar noticing. They stopped in the middle of a long corridor, with a large door at the end.
Toxifar spoke,
"I need to go take care of something. Wait here."
Milo stood still, waiting for him.
Milo was surprised by the large door and decided to approach it. As he got closer, he heard voices of people talking behind him.
Milo frowned and leaned closer to the crack in the door, his heart pounding but his movements controlled. He pulled out his phone quietly - not the camera this time, but the voice recorder - and started recording the conversation without anyone noticing.
Through the gap he heard four low voices, the words deliberate and chilling.
"...this way we'll make everyone fight each other in Novara, exploit the chaos to get into the old church in the wealthy district..."
"...there we take what we want and strike at the Church's credibility..."
"...the timing is perfect no one will expect an inside assault."
Milo felt a cold spike run down his spine. This was bigger than petty turf wars or simple theft; it was an organized plan to attack the Church and plunge the city into turmoil.
Milo froze as the voices continued, each word landing heavier than the last.
"...But what about the Four Guards of Novara? If we attack the old church they'll be summoned " one voice asked, nervousness threaded through it.
"That's exactly why we'll force them to be summoned," another answered calmly. "Send some men to start killing in the wealthy district. People will cry out for protection the Church will call the Guards away to defend the rich, and the church itself will be left vulnerable."
A third voice spoke next, low and dangerous: "We'll slip into the old church with concealment magic. No one will notice us. We kill the members of that church from inside."
Cold ran through Milo's veins. The plan wasn't just sabotage it was a coordinated scheme to cause bloodshed, to use people as bait and then slaughter the Church's members. He kept the recorder pressed to himself, hands steady though his mind was anything but.
Milo quietly grabbed his phone and held it close to his ear, trying to capture the conversation, when suddenly a small insect flew out from the crack of the door, squealing sharply. Milo froze for a moment, staring in surprise and the voices of the four inside became unmistakably clear.
"Oh someone's eavesdropping on us!" one of them shouted angrily, leaping to his feet.
The others immediately sprang up and ran toward the door. Milo didn't wait a second; he bolted down the hallway, trying to put as much distance between himself and them as possible. One of them pushed the door open and lunged after him, shadowing his every move.
Milo ran frantically, scanning for an exit or a hiding spot, his heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed his arm and yanked him into a narrow side corridor. The person who pulled him stopped, standing firm in front of him like a barrier.
It was Toxifar. His green eyes glinted silently, the calm intensity in them giving no hint of emotion. He whispered sharply, low and controlled:
"Stay still. Don't move."
It was Toxifar. His green eyes glinted silently, the calm intensity in them giving no hint of emotion. He whispered sharply, low and controlled:
"Stay still. Don't move."
Toxifar replied calmly,
"Ah... yes, my apologies. I was eavesdropping on you, Number 4."
Milo's eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and caution washing over him.
The man known as "Number 4" stepped forward swiftly and landed a solid punch on Toxifar, sending him crashing to the ground immediately. The air seemed to freeze for a moment as he stood over him, his voice cold and merciless:
"Next time you spy on us, I will end your life. Understand, Toxifar?"
Toxifar lowered his head and spoke quietly, reverent but measured,
"My apologies, Number 4."
The man known as Number 4 strode back toward the three others he had been speaking with, his steps firm and deliberate.
Milo emerged from his hiding spot and approached Toxifar to check on him.
"Toxifar, are you okay?" Milo asked, concerned.
Toxifar smiled at Milo.
"Don't worry, it didn't hurt. But didn't I tell you to stay where you were and wait for me?"
Milo apologized,
"I'm sorry, but I was curious."
Toxifar replied,
"Alright... it's fine."
Milo grabbed Toxifar by the collar.
"But you didn't tell me that the goal of the mischief-makers is to completely destroy and ruin Novara. You deceived me."
Toxifar stayed silent for a moment, then replied,
"That is the goal of the leaders of the mischief-makers, not the members. The members are just pawns for the leaders."
Milo tightened his grip on Toxifar's collar, eyes burning.
"That doesn't change the fact that you want to destroy Novara," he hissed.
Toxifar's smile didn't vanish it only sharpened.
"And what's wrong with that?" he asked, voice calm as ever. "They lied to people for years about the Foundation Jewel. The Church ruined lives. Don't they deserve to die for that?"
Milo stepped back, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and fear.
"What do you mean? Are you serious? You want to kill them? You didn't tell me the Troublemakers were like this you didn't tell me they'd kill people." His voice shook slightly.
Toxifar shrugged calmly, looking at Milo with eyes that showed a hard-earned coldness.
"Milo, if we don't stop the Church our way, it will wipe out anyone who opposes it. The Church knows about any plot before it happens..."
Milo cut in quickly, "How does the Church know everything?"
Toxifar leaned in a little, his voice low and icy:
"They have eyes everywhere. Spies, detection magic, networks inside political and commercial circles. They don't forget or forgive. If they learn of a movement against them, they'll crush it immediately and they won't stop at warnings."
Toxifar continued, voice even and cold:
"Anyway the Troublemakers will fail in their plan and be wiped out. The leaders don't understand Novara's true strength. They'll never reach the church; they'll die before that. I'll take advantage of that to carry out my plan."
Milo frowned, alarmed. "Your plan?"
Toxifar's lips tightened into a thin smile. "It's personal. But believe me it's noble. I'll save humanity from the Church and its evil."
Milo's jaw clenched. He forced himself to ask another question, quieter this time:
"Does Lucas know the leaders' real plan?"
Toxifar shook his head. "No. He's like most members
he thinks the Troublemakers will stage peaceful protests, demand justice and equality. He doesn't know the blood they intend to spill."
Toxifar smiled coldly, his green hair catching the dim light, and looked Milo straight in the eyes.
"Milo... I am Number 5."
A brief silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Milo's brow furrowed. "Number 5? So... you're a leader?"
Toxifar answered quietly, "Yes I'm one of the leaders. The leaders are ranked by number according to their strength."
He gave a small, wry smile. "I'm the weakest leader among them."
Milo clenched his fists, his face tight with worry.
"Damn... ahh... what's happening in Novara?" he muttered to himself.
"Troublemakers... the Talented... the Church's evil... why all these conspiracies?"
Milo walked toward the exit, his steps firm but his mind racing.
He pushed open the doors of the hideout and stepped out into the dim streets of the poor district.
Toxifar followed closely behind, his presence quiet yet unwavering, matching Milo's pace as they moved through the alleys.
Milo stopped abruptly.
"Why are you following me?" he asked, turning slightly.
Toxifar's gaze remained steady.
"Milo... will you still remain an ally to us?"
Milo replied firmly, "I'm an ally of justice. I won't side with the wicked."
Toxifar's voice was calm but probing, "Then... will you betray us as well?"
Milo didn't answer. He simply continued walking, his steps determined.
They parted ways there.
Lucas clenched his fists, his face flushed with anger as he processed everything that had happened.
Milo found his sister back from work. She greeted him warmly, but noticed he seemed slightly upset. He placed his phone on the table and said,
"I'm going to take a shower."
Milena noticed his mood but didn't ask. She decided to use the time while he showered to check his phone.
Meanwhile, in another place, Toxifar appeared inside a bar.
In the poor district, while he was drinking, Braund and his companions from the Talented Gang stood before him.
"Do you remember me, boy?" Braund said sharply, his voice cold.
Toxifar glanced at him but ignored him.
Braund poured his drink into Toxifar's face.
"Do you think ignoring us will solve your problem? You and your friend attacked me... and my companions. Now you'll pay for what you did!"
Toxifar stood calmly, his composure unshaken, and walked out of the bar with cold precision.
As he left, Braund and his companions tried to grab him but Toxifar easily broke free, effortlessly keeping them at bay.
Braund and his companions chased after Toxifar as he calmly walked away from the bar, heading toward an abandoned area in the heart of the poorer district.
When he arrived, Braund noticed the place was dark and almost empty, but he didn't back down and continued pursuing Toxifar, determined to confront him there.
Toxifar stopped while Braund and his companions stood before him, brandishing knives and sticks.
"Seems you've realized your fate, boy," one of them sneered.
Toxifar looked at them with cold composure.
"Aaaaaaaaah! It's hunting time!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the tension.
He unleashed his green, squared energy, and a massive green scythe materialized in his hand, glowing ominously.
Braund recoiled in shock.
"A... a legendary weapon?!" he stammered, trembling with fear.
"Y-You think you can scare us with that?!" he shouted, stepping toward Toxifar. "We're not afraid of kids like you!"
In an instant, Toxifar swung his massive green scythe, and Braund's head was severed. Blood splattered across the ground, sending the others into panic.
The other companions screamed in terror, and one of them tried to flee quickly. Suddenly, Toxifar appeared in front of him, and in a single move, he severed both of his legs, causing him to collapse and die instantly.
The rest were in utter panic, trying to escape, but Toxifar pursued them relentlessly, eliminating them one by one. After a few moments, only a single person remained, trembling and paralyzed with fear.
Toxifar moves his neck and lets out a sigh. "Ah... I feel some relief now after spilling your blood."
He glares at the last remaining person. "You... leave. Seems like you're lucky today. My hunt is over."
The man gets up from the ground and runs desperately, trying to escape. Suddenly, his body is split in half mid-run.
Toxifar smiles, his body and face covered in blood. "Fool... you really believed me," he mutters coldly.
Toxifar looked at the chaos around him the blood and scattered limbs. He smiled coldly and whispered in a calm voice, "Alright... seems I have to get rid of all this evidence."
He paused for a moment, raising his hand, and a faint green aura swirled around his palm like a ghostly breeze. Instead of focusing on the gruesome details, the energy worked to erase the traces: the blood and flesh gradually vanished, and the severed limbs turned into pale green ash with precise control.
Toxifar finished his grim work and sank onto a broken crate, the faint glow from his palm fading into the night.
"Still he will join us," he murmured to himself, voice low and ravenous. "Milo will join the Troublemakers. He'll be one of us. But he will hate me when he know my truth ."
He leaned forward, letting his fingers trail through the slick dark on the ground. Slowly, with a hunger that felt older than the alley, he licked the blood from the cobblestones and tasted it, then scooped a small handful and drank. The motion was casual, obscene a ritual that made the quiet around him feel heavier.
Around the ruined square, the slums breathed in shallow, tired rhythms. Lantern light from distant windows painted the weathered walls in dull gold; a sick wind moved through broken shutters and tossed discarded paper into a silent dance. Somewhere far off, a dog barked once and was answered by a distant, hollow echo. The city kept its secrets, but tonight one more had been born beneath the surface.
Toxifar rose finally, shoulders straightening as if shrugging off the weight of the night. He stepped back into the shadows, his silhouette swallowed by the alleys. The green afterglow of his power winked out, leaving nothing behind but a faint copper scent on the air and the impression that Novara's quiet had been broken and that the storm to come would not be gentle.