Kaelen took a moment to examine the journal's texture. The cover was worn and cracked, still clinging to patches of fungal growth. Using her rusted knife, she carefully scraped away the residue until the surface was mostly clear. There were no words etched into the cover—only a single black insignia depicting two armored figures, one male and one female, standing side by side, both gripping a single sword with their joined hands.
Flipping open to the first page, Kaelen immediately noticed something that made her pause. The text wasn't written in the strange, unreadable language found on the manuscripts or the bells.
It was in English.
"What is it?" Seren asked, leaning over Kaelen's shoulder.
"It's a journal, I think," Kaelen replied, her brow furrowed. "It's written in English, though… Give me a moment. I'll read a bit more."
The first page began speaking directly from the perspective of the author.
Day 1
I am writing this journal under the orders of His Majesty. In order to ensure the ancient beast does not walk these lands again, I, Cassius of the Black Order, have been commanded to seal the creature for good. This journal exists to document my journey for the King. Should I fail to return, a search party may one day find this record—and, with luck, learn what became of me.
'The Black Order? The king this person, Cassius, speaks of must be the same king this church worshipped. Perhaps the Black Order was some kind of royal guard,' Kaelen thought before continuing to read.
The beast was last seen southeast of the kingdom. Perhaps it has made its nest there. I won't know until I see it for myself. Before I departed, my fellow Order members offered their farewells. I do not blame them—for the beast I am to face is far more dangerous than any we have encountered.
Warren spoke to me first. He called me foolish for taking this mission alone, though I suspect his words came from concern rather than contempt. Michael was next—his tone gentler. He and I have long been close friends; he only wished for my safe return so that we might continue serving His Majesty together. Adele said nothing, as is her way. She merely offered me an embrace before I left the royal halls. It was enough.
The first day of my journey was uneventful. However, being outside the kingdom walls after so long has given me a clearer insight into our land's current state. The red mist has begun to spread farther each day. Wildlife has dwindled, and farms have withered away without a trace. I must make haste—for if I am to save our people, the beast must be sealed, and the mist stopped once and for all.
I will continue southeast for the rest of the day and make camp when the clouds begin to engulf the sky.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Kaelen took a moment to process the information before shifting back to Seren to explain the contents of the journal.
"This journal… it's like a farewell record," she began. "Written by someone named Cassius. He served under a king as part of a royal guard—or something similar—called the Black Order."
"The Black Order?" Seren asked, her brow furrowing. "Do you think it's the same king this church worshipped? Both have ties to… well, black."
"It's… likely," Kaelen replied. "Cassius was sent under his king's orders to seal away a beast—something he called the ancient beast. According to him, it's responsible for something called the Red Mist. The entry says this mist began killing all wildlife and causing farms to decay."
Seren processed that for a moment before asking, "Wait—seal it? If the beast was that dangerous, why not just kill it?"
"Maybe they didn't have the firepower," Kaelen said, glancing down at the journal again. "This place already feels ancient. I doubt they had the kind of technology we do… or did. Maybe sealing it was their best option. Maybe this world ran on magic—or something like it—instead of machinery."
"Well, read the next entry!" Seren demanded impatiently. "Maybe there's something in it that can help us survive!"
"Yeah, yeah—just give me a moment." Kaelen brushed her off and began to read the second entry aloud.
Day 2
The journey southeast is proving more harrowing than I anticipated. The red mist's influence has spread farther than expected, and nearly all life in the surrounding forest has vanished. Nearly—all, but not quite. Some of the surviving creatures have begun to change, mutating into twisted versions of themselves. I encountered one today.
The closest comparison I can make is a wolf. But it had no fur, its flesh charred black as though it had escaped an inferno. Its jaw hung loose, dislocated and crooked, and its eye sockets were hollow—black fluid dripping from them like tears. The beast attacked as soon as it sensed me. How it detected my presence, I cannot say.
Regardless, I killed it. These creatures cannot be slain by ordinary means. Severing limbs or even decapitating them only delays the inevitable, as their bodies regenerate quickly. To truly kill them, one must destroy their core—a black sphere hidden somewhere within their body. Shatter the sphere, and the creature dies with it.
However, if you are not one gifted with a bell, do not engage these creatures under any circumstances. Run. If you cannot run, then hide—and pray that it is unable to sense you.
I will cover my injuries from the battle and continue southeast.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
"Gifted with a bell?" Seren asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe it was a religious kind of thing," Kaelen replied, her tone thoughtful. "In human history, bells were often used to ward off spirits or evil. These creatures Cassius described sound exactly like that centipede monster we saw back in town—missing eye sockets, crying black tears, unnaturally aggressive. Most importantly, the black spheres we saw when the centipede tore itself open."
Seren nodded slowly, unsettled by the connection. Kaelen turned the page. The next entry was shorter—but its tone was darker, more desperate.
Day 6
I am sorry. I was unable to document the previous days. On the third day of my expedition, I was attacked—by those damn wolves again. But this time, it was not a single beast, but an entire pack. For the past few days, I have been fighting them off, fleeing when I can, but they are too fast… too nimble. And they are led by a creature unlike the rest.
I have slain most of them, though not without great cost. The pack leader tore off my right arm—its claws were sharp enough to slice through steel plate as though it were cloth. My ribs are broken, and my left ankle twisted beyond proper use. I managed to shatter the leader's core, but I fear it was not enough. Unlike the lesser creature from my first encounter, whose body turned to ash upon the destruction of its core, this one did not. For a brief moment, I saw its sphere beginning to re-form.
I escaped before it could rise again, but I believe the pack leader is far too corrupted by the Red Mist. If I encounter it once more, I must seal it within my bell.
However, since the pack leader is not my true quarry, I will retreat to recover what strength I can. I may have lost an arm, but that will not stop me from saving my people.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Kaelen and Seren sat in silence for a long moment. The entry was shorter than the previous ones, yet it carried far more weight. The implications were grim—these monsters were far more dangerous than either of them had realized. It wasn't just their strength or aggression that made them terrifying, but their endurance.
If creatures truly existed that could regenerate even after their cores were destroyed, then killing them outright was impossible. Immortality—of the most horrifying kind.
Kaelen had secretly hoped that setting traps or ambushes might give them an advantage, but that idea was now out of the question. Without one of the sealing bells Cassius mentioned, any encounter with these things would end exactly as he warned—in death.
But one question lingered in Kaelen's mind, colder and heavier than the rest.
How in the hell did Cassius manage to survive multiple of them—and even cripple the strongest of the pack—while so grievously wounded?
Even from Kaelen's standpoint, it didn't make sense. She was enhanced—her military augmentations made her stronger, faster, and more resilient than any ordinary human. And yet, even with that advantage, she knew she wouldn't stand a chance against creatures like the ones Cassius described.
But Cassius… he was just a knight in steel armor. No advanced weaponry, no augmentations—just raw conviction and a sword. Somehow, he had managed to slay the lesser monsters and even cripple a stronger one.
Kaelen needed more answers. She turned the page and continued reading.
Day 7
The pack is on my trail again. They remain distant, but close enough that I can feel their presence. No matter—the ancient beast is not far now. I believe it has begun nesting within the southern mountains. Once I reach them, perhaps the creature's presence will drive the pack away… or so I hope.
The mountains themselves have not escaped the Red Mist. The once-beautiful, snow-capped peaks I knew in my youth are gone, replaced by jagged, blackened ridges that tear through the clouds like blades. A fitting bastion for the harbinger of the mist.
...I am running out of time. The wound from my missing arm has not closed, and I have been unable to stop the bleeding. My ankle remains twisted, yet I force myself to walk. I must make haste. I fear this will be my final entry.
To whoever finds this—Warren, Michael, Adele, Sitri, Ludius, or any who follow in the name of the Black Order—bring this record to His Majesty. Tell my story, so that those who come after may know what awaits them.
And... I am sorry.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
'No… that can't be it. There has to be more here.'
Kaelen turned the page—blank. Then another. And another.
'No, no, no!'
She flipped through frantically, each page as empty as the last, until finally—words. The same phrase that had ended every entry before:
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
At first, it appeared once—then twice—then over and over again, the handwriting growing more erratic with each repetition.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty. Forever prosperity to His Majesty. Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Kaelen's pulse quickened. She turned another page.
The phrase was written dozens of times now, lines of black ink pressed so hard into the parchment that the words had begun to tear through.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
Forever prosperity to His Majesty.
The next pages were the same—all of them. Page after page filled to the margins with the same phrase, scrawled by an increasingly desperate, unsteady hand.
Then she reached the second-to-last page.
Only one line was written there.
Forever prosperity to the Red Mist.
A shiver ran down both of their spines.
Cassius—a knight of the Black Order, a man whose devotion to his king burned so fiercely that he was willing to face death itself—had, in the end, been consumed by the very evil he swore to destroy. His faith, once his greatest strength, had become his undoing.
But what unsettled Kaelen and Seren most wasn't just his fate. It was what it implied for them.
The weight of realization pressed down like a cold hand on their shoulders—they were not safe here, nor anywhere.
The journal didn't just reveal the existence of more of those creatures—it suggested there were far worse things out there. Beings stronger, older, and far more intelligent than the centipede they'd seen.
And worse still was the chilling possibility that clawed at the back of their minds:
If the Red Mist could twist a man like Cassius—a knight, a hero—into something monstrous…
Then what would stop it from doing the same to them?
"Kaelen..." Seren said quietly, her voice trembling. "On a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?"
Kaelen paused, drawing in a slow, heavy breath before answering in a tone that carried no comfort.
"You could raise the ten to a thousand, and it still wouldn't be enough."
She exhaled sharply, closing the journal with trembling hands. Preparing to slip it into her leather bag, she noticed something she hadn't before—one more page.
Her first thought was that it would be blank, or filled with the same frenzied words of madness Cassius had scrawled before his fall. But it wasn't.
The handwriting was different—smoother, more deliberate.
It wasn't written by Cassius.
Day 456
I am writing this journal under the orders of… myself. I, Adele of the Black Order, have taken it upon my own will to uncover the fate of my dearest friend, Cassius. The King commanded me to abandon my… affection for him. I disobeyed. I could not. I needed to know the truth.
For months I have searched—every corner of the forest, every ruin, every whisper of the Red Mist. I have run, fought, and sealed hundreds of those creatures. I have found nothing. No trace of him. As if he never existed.
But I refuse to believe that. I know he is out there. He has to be.
Hundreds of sleepless nights, countless battles, and wounds I've neglected—all have begun to take their toll. My body weakens, but my resolve cannot. I will not stop until I find him.
Today, at last, I found a town.
Our town.
The one where Cassius and I grew up. It was never a large town—quiet, humble, and home to few—but it was ours. Seeing it now, in this state, was unbearable. Most of the homes were abandoned, their roofs caved in or their walls reduced to rubble. The clock tower at the center had nearly collapsed, its face cracked and its bell long since fallen silent. I remember when we were children, climbing to the very top so we could see above the treeline. Looking back now, his fate had always been clear.
While I looked toward the distant snowy mountains, dreaming of freedom and peace… his eyes were always fixed on the kingdom.
Then, and now. He never changed. And now that I have found him, I understand the truth—Cassius was lost long before he set out on his so-called noble mission.
When I arrived in town, he did not hide. He stood atop the bell tower, motionless, watching the horizon like a sentinel—still facing north, still guarding the kingdom… even in death. Even beyond death.
I tried... I tried everything to bring him back—to get him to remember who he was, to get him to realize who he was to me. I could not bring myself to kill him. I... just couldn't.
So I sealed him within his own sacred bell. It was the greatest mercy I could offer—the only way to grant him peace from what he had become. But I will not return to the kingdom. The king… has changed. I do not know why, but his heart has grown cold—ruthless, and unrecognizable from the man we once served. I will hide Cassius's bell, as well as my own, far from his reach. My wounds are many, and I know I will not survive much longer.
For anyone who finds this journal—if you find our bells—keep them close. In life, I could never draw near to Cassius, no matter how I tried. His unwavering faith in the crown always stood between us. I can only hope that in death—or in eternity, as it seems—our prisons may rest side by side, bound together in the silence we were denied in life.