Zatiel and Ezequiel were leaving the tower to begin their missions in the Endless Forest.
Zatiel wore his freshly issued black magic robe, the fabric absorbing the torchlight like liquid shadow. His new one-handed mitratium sword hung at his waist, its weight familiar already. Ezequiel, in contrast, wore the white robe that matched his hair. The short sword with its green crystal hilt rested easily in his hand, ready to draw in an instant.
They moved with quiet confidence toward the wide archway that led out of the tower's first level. The air inside was cool and faintly metallic, the scent of magic-infused stone strong as always.
But before they could leave, three apprentices stepped into their path.
The one in the lead—a tall young man with sharp features and a calm, unreadable smile—spoke first."Hello. My name is Leonard. Could we go somewhere quieter to talk?"
Zatiel's gaze flicked over Leonard, then to the two who followed him. His expression didn't change, but his mind was already taking stock.
After a pause, he gave a short nod, and the group moved toward a less crowded stretch of the hall.
While they walked, Zatiel examined them in detail.
The female apprentice was slender but well-toned, with long blond hair braided neatly down her back. Her aura placed her firmly at Rank 3, but there was no dominant elemental signature—likely an Arcane-path Magus, versatile but unpredictable.
The first of the two men was enormous, nearly 2.2 meters tall, built like a siege engine with thick arms and a wide chest. His features were heavy and simian, his aura carrying a subtle, primal thrum—a Bloodline Apprentice, without doubt. The faint, restless fluctuations in his energy hinted at an animalistic lineage.
Leonard himself stood at 1.9 meters, lean but far from frail. His magnetic force field was the strongest of the three, the air around him carrying a chill that didn't come from the tower's temperature. Zatiel pegged him as a Pseudo-Magus following the Elemental path of water, specializing in its cold, still aspect.
'A well-balanced trio,' Zatiel thought. 'Elemental cold for control and raw damage, Arcane for utility and hexes, Bloodline for brute force. No glaring weakness.'
The four great Paths of Magi were as old as the civilization itself: Elemental, Arcane, Bloodline, and Body-Refinement.
Elemental Magi shaped themselves around the forces of nature—fire, water, earth, air. The path restricted versatility but granted immense raw power and a clear route for advancement.
Arcane Magi refused those limitations, wielding knowledge to bend any form of energy to their will. They lacked the overwhelming battlefield dominance of elementalists but could curse, hex, and manipulate in ways that unsettled even the strongest opponents.
Bloodline Magi reforged themselves through the essence of magical beasts, gaining monstrous strength and resilience—but at the cost of bloodline shackles that eventually stunted further growth.
Body-Refinement Magi turned their flesh into weapons, bathing themselves in toxins, radiation, and harsh alchemy to push human physiology to its absolute limits. It produced terrifying warriors—but the human form had ceilings even magic struggled to shatter.
Every path had its champions. Every path had its dead ends.
The group stopped at a shadowed corner of the first floor.
Leonard's smile returned, polite and measured. "As I said, I'm Leonard. This is Beatriz, and the big guy is Arnold."
Zatiel's tone was flat, giving nothing away. "Zatiel. And this is Ezequiel. What do you want?"
Ezequiel gave a single nod, his eyes cold and distant.
Arnold's heavy brows drew down in a scowl at the lack of courtesy. His lips parted to growl something, but Leonard lifted a hand, stopping him without looking.
"I have information you might find useful," Leonard said smoothly. "Arthur—Nick's brother—has returned from his mission. He's likely to make his move soon. He's a Fire Elemental Pseudo-Magus and keeps a strong group of followers."
Before Zatiel could reply, the A.I. Chip's voice whispered in his mind.
[Bip… Spell detected on host. Function: analysis of emotional state.]
Zatiel's gaze slid briefly toward Beatriz but he didn't call her out. Waste of her time, he thought.
"Oh. That's all?" Zatiel's voice held mild interest at best. His indifference was genuine—unless the opponent was Rank 1, neither he nor Ezequiel had reason to fear them.
Leonard's smile thinned. He had expected at least a flicker of concern, perhaps an opening for negotiation. But the two Neo-Demons might as well have been carved from stone.
So he shifted tactics. "Actually, we could help you. If you join us, Arthur won't dare attack."
"No need," Zatiel said without hesitation. "If that's all, we'll be leaving."
Leonard's expression sharpened. "Wait. Don't you think you're being a little selfish—making decisions for someone else?"
Zatiel's eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. "Little EZ, I think he's talking about you."
Ezequiel's gaze snapped to Leonard, and the air seemed to darken. His killing intent rolled out in a wave, cold and absolute. The meaning was clear: try to separate me from my master, and you die.
Leonard's breath caught despite himself. The boy's presence wasn't just dangerous—it was predatory, the way an apex creature looked at prey.
Zatiel broke the silence. "There's your answer. Thanks for the warning."
Without another word, he turned and walked away. Ezequiel lingered just long enough to let Leonard feel the weight of his stare, then followed.
"Bastards," Leonard muttered under his breath as they disappeared.
"Boss," Arnold said quietly, "that boy's… wrong. Dangerous. My back's drenched."
Leonard didn't respond at once. He'd felt it too—that razor edge of threat that made instincts scream.
Beatriz finally spoke. "I couldn't read either of them. Their wills are… sealed. Even when I probed, there was nothing unless they wanted me to see it."
Leonard exhaled slowly. "Then they're Arthur's problem now. We stay out of it."
Neither Arnold nor Beatriz argued.
Outside the tower, the night air was brisk. Without hesitation, Zatiel and Ezequiel slipped into their agility spells—shadow wrapping Zatiel's form, arcs of lightning crackling faintly along Ezequiel's limbs. Their strides lengthened into blurs.
Their mastery was such that the energy cost was negligible. At this pace, they could run for days.
Hours later, the Endless Forest rose before them. The name was no exaggeration—ancient trees towered hundreds of meters overhead, their trunks wide enough to house entire families. Beyond them, jagged mountains broke the horizon, their peaks lost in low clouds.
This was no conquered land. This was wild Magi territory, ruled by the magical creatures that had lived here long before human civilization's rise.
The forest's outer reaches teemed with Rank 1 and Rank 2 beasts; deeper still, Rank 3s prowled. But at the very heart lay creatures so powerful that even Rank 1 Magi hesitated to tread near their domains.
Zatiel halted at the treeline and looked at Ezequiel. "Remember. If you're in danger—run. Don't push deeper than you need to. The periphery is all we can safely work for now. Cross into a Rank 1 creature's territory, and you call me immediately through the core. Even I can die here if careless."
Ezequiel nodded once.
"And," Zatiel added, his gaze drifting back toward the tower's direction, "we'll have company before long. Some of them will follow you. Deal with them when you get the chance."
Ezequiel didn't need to ask who. He'd already felt the eyes trailing them, faint but persistent. The instincts of a Neo-Demon rarely lied.
"We meet here in a month."
They parted without ceremony, each vanishing into the green labyrinth.
Half an hour later, movement stirred at the forest's edge. Seven figures emerged from concealment, each wearing the robes of a magical apprentice.
Two led the group. The first was tall, broad-shouldered, with hair like fresh flame and a face set in a hard, unyielding mask. The second was lanky, his narrow face reminiscent of a snake's, his movements smooth and deliberate.
"Benjamin," the red-haired one said, "you'll take Nick and Robert and handle the boy. I'll take the rest and go after the other one."
Nick bristled. "Brother, that's overkill. I can handle him alone. Last time was just because he caught me off guard—"
"Shut your mouth," the red-haired man—Arthur—snapped. "You've embarrassed me enough already."
Nick's face flushed with anger, but he swallowed it.
Arthur's gaze slid to Benjamin. "Don't underestimate him. I've got a feeling he's dangerous."
Benjamin's thin lips curved into a faint smile. "Don't worry. I know how to deal with him. Let's go."
He turned, gesturing for Nick and Robert to follow. They melted into the shadows, moving in the direction Ezequiel had taken.
Arthur watched them disappear before signaling the rest of his group to move.