Far from the quiet village, far from the illusion of ordinary life that continued peacefully beneath open skies, another place existed where the air itself seemed unwilling to move freely.

Darkness dominated the space. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Not the natural darkness of night, but something heavier.

Something suffocating.

The atmosphere itself felt corrupted, thick with a presence that distorted the very flow of mana, twisting it into patterns that no longer followed the natural order of the world.

The ground was uneven, blackened stone spreading outward like infected flesh, cracked surfaces glowing faintly with veins of dim crimson light that pulsed slowly, rhythmically, as though the land itself possessed a heartbeat.

At the center of this corrupted domain stood a throne.

Its structure appeared grown rather than crafted, formed from jagged, obsidian-like material that curved unnaturally upward, sharp edges resembling fangs frozen in silent hunger. Dark tendrils extended from its base, merging into the surrounding ground as though the throne itself were rooted deeply within the corruption.

Beside the throne stood a figure.

Tall.

Still.

Completely concealed beneath layers of dark fabric that flowed unnaturally despite the absence of wind.

The cloak covered the figure entirely from head to toe, leaving not even a glimpse of skin visible beneath the folds of shadow-like material. Even the shape of the face remained indistinguishable, as though the darkness itself refused to reveal what lay beneath.

Before the throne, several figures knelt in silent submission.

Their forms bore little resemblance to ordinary beings.

Armor clung tightly to their bodies, yet it was not worn in the usual sense.

It had fused with them.

Blended into flesh that no longer appeared entirely human.

Dark veins pulsed faintly beneath cracked surfaces where metal and skin had become indistinguishable from one another.

Some bore limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

Others possessed jagged protrusions emerging where armor had merged too deeply into bone.

Their presence radiated quiet agony.

And complete obedience.

One of the kneeling figures spoke, its voice distorted as though forced through a throat no longer shaped correctly for speech.

"Your grace… Second General…"

The title echoed faintly through the corrupted chamber.

"We found someone… lurking nearby."

The cloaked figure did not move immediately.

Silence lingered for a moment too long.

Then—

A voice emerged.

Neither male nor female.

Neither young nor old.

A sound that seemed layered, as though multiple tones spoke at once, overlapping imperfectly.

"Where… is it?"

The kneeling figure trembled violently, its distorted fingers pressing deeper into the corrupted ground.

"O-our dogs…" it stammered, its voice cracking under invisible pressure.

"…were hungry…"

The words had barely left its mouth when the cloaked figure slowly raised a single finger.

The air itself seemed to tighten.

The trembling figure froze.

Then—

Its body began to distort.

Cracks spread across its fused armor-flesh surface like fractures spreading across fragile glass.

A sickening sound echoed as its limbs bent backward at unnatural angles, joints twisting far beyond the limits of natural movement.

The creature screamed.

A sound filled with agony that reverberated throughout the chamber.

Its form convulsed violently as invisible force compressed it inward, bones grinding, armor merging further into flesh as its shape collapsed in upon itself.

The scream did not last long.

It ended abruptly.

Silence followed.

The broken form fell forward onto the dark stone, motionless.

The cloaked figure lowered its hand slowly.

"Feed it… to the dogs."

The command carried no emotion.

No anger.

No cruelty.

Only indifference.

"As for the intruder…"

The layered voice echoed softly once more.

"There is a possibility… our location may already be exposed."

The remaining kneeling figures trembled visibly, their distorted bodies reacting instinctively to the implication.

"We will move soon."

Another kneeling figure lowered its head further, its voice shaking as it forced the words forward.

"Y-yes… Your Grace…"

The cloaked figure remained still for a brief moment longer.

Then—

Its form began to dissolve.

The dark fabric broke apart into fragments resembling smoke, dispersing slowly into the corrupted air as the layered voice spoke one final time.

"There is something… I must attend to first…"

The throne remained.

The corrupted figures remained kneeling.

But the presence…

Had vanished.

***

Night had begun to settle once more over the village, the quiet hum of daily life gradually fading as lanterns flickered to life within homes and the narrow streets grew emptier with each passing moment. The inn itself had entered its slower rhythm, the muted sounds of occasional footsteps and low conversation echoing faintly through its aged wooden halls.

Behind the counter, the old innkeeper stood alone.

His expression, so often masked beneath a tired demeanor, now appeared far more alert than before. His small, restless eyes moved repeatedly toward the staircase, then toward the entrance, then back again, as though ensuring no one paid him particular attention.

He waited.

Listened.

Observed.

Only after confirming that the lower floor had grown quiet did he slowly step away from the counter, his movements cautious, deliberate.

He glanced once more toward the back of the inn where the elderly woman usually remained, ensuring she was nowhere nearby.

Then he began climbing the stairs.

Each step was careful, the faint creak of aged wood barely noticeable beneath the slow rhythm of his movement. His breathing remained controlled, yet his gaze shifted repeatedly along the corridor as though expecting to be caught at any moment.

When he reached the top floor, the silence felt heavier.

More isolated.

Only one room stood there.

The same room occupied by the travelers.

The same room he had observed with growing interest since the previous night.

He approached quietly, producing a small key from within his sleeve, the faint metallic glint briefly catching the dim lanternlight.

With practiced familiarity, he inserted the key and opened the door just enough to slip inside without making unnecessary noise.

The room was empty.

Just as expected.

His eyes scanned the interior quickly, confirming that no one remained within.

A faint, unpleasant smile formed upon his face.

From within his sleeve, he retrieved a small vial containing a dark liquid that shimmered faintly under the dim light. The substance within moved sluggishly, thick in consistency, its faint scent barely noticeable even at close range.

He moved toward the center of the room, carefully sprinkling a nearly invisible trace of the liquid across the bedding and along the edges of the pillow.

Then he stepped back, observing his work with quiet satisfaction.

"It will take effect soon…" he muttered softly to himself, his voice carrying a low, unpleasant tone.

His lips curled faintly as he allowed the thought to linger.

"That old hag…" he grumbled under his breath, irritation briefly surfacing within his expression.

"Always denying me…"

"There is nothing left worth looking at in her…"

His gaze drifted toward the bed, his eyes narrowing with greedy anticipation.

"But that woman…"

His tongue moved slowly across his lips as a thin trace of saliva gathered at the corner of his mouth.

"…such a waste for her to belong to someone else…"

He let out a quiet, distorted chuckle, the sound barely audible within the empty room.

"It is a very strong mixture…"

His fingers tapped lightly against the small vial before he tucked it away once more.

"Once it takes effect…"

Another low laugh escaped him.

"…it will not wear off for two days…"

The thought seemed to amuse him deeply.

"Hehehe…"

His quiet laughter faded slowly into the stillness as he gave one final look around the room before slipping back toward the door, closing it gently behind him as though nothing had ever disturbed the calm atmosphere within.

Outside, the corridor returned to silence.

And the trap had already been set.

***

Seraphina's fingers carefully brushed aside the folded cloth that had partially concealed the small object resting near the bottom of the sack. At first glance, it appeared unimpressive — a narrow metallic piece no larger than a finger, its surface dull and unpolished, lacking any decorative markings that might attract casual attention.

Yet the moment Seraphina saw it clearly, her gaze sharpened.

She picked it up slowly, turning it slightly between her fingers as the faint ambient light caught the subtle engraving along its side — a nearly imperceptible pattern that would have gone unnoticed by anyone unfamiliar with its purpose.

"This…" she said quietly.

Her voice carried a change in tone that immediately drew Luca's attention.

He leaned slightly closer, observing the object with focused curiosity.

"What is it?" he asked calmly.

Seraphina's eyes remained fixed upon the small device as she replied.

"This is used by academy intelligence operatives," she said with certainty. "A communication seal designed specifically for covert exchange."

Her fingers traced the faint symbol engraved upon the surface.

"It allows encoded messages to be transmitted through controlled mana resonance."

Luca's expression grew more serious as he absorbed the implication.

"In other words," he said slowly, "this belonged to one of our spies."

Seraphina gave a small nod.

"These devices are not distributed widely," she continued. "Each one is assigned individually, ensuring that only verified operatives can access specific communication channels."

Her eyes shifted slightly as she examined its condition.

"This one appears damaged," she added quietly. "Likely broken during struggle."

Luca's gaze lowered briefly toward the sack before returning to the object in her hand.

"If this was in their possession…" he murmured.

The unspoken possibility formed immediately.

They both turned simultaneously toward the three unconscious men lying restrained upon the shrine floor.