(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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CLOVER CAPITAL...
WIZARD KING'S PALACE...
Wizard King Palace...
The sun had sunk below the horizon,
Leaving long shadows stretching across Julius Novachrono's office.
Candles flickered softly, but the light did little to ease the tightness growing in Julius's chest.
He set the latest intel report aside, fingers steepled under his chin.
William's absences.
Light magic sightings…
Patry…
It was enough to keep any man awake.
But now, something else gnawed at him.
Something he did not expect.
Marx.
His most loyal assistant.
His most dependable support.
A man Julius trusted with classified information, royal secrets—everything.
Yet…
Julius' eyes drifted to the teacup Marx had left on his desk just an hour earlier.
Something was wrong.
The Subtle Changes.
At first, Julius ignored it.
But the signs kept piling.
Marx, who loved chamomile tea, suddenly disliked it.
Marx, whose handwriting was elegantly consistent for years,
Now wrote with strokes slightly sharper—
Like someone imitating him.
Marx, who always reported with perfect punctuality,
Had started pausing mid-sentence… as if listening to something only he could hear.
Today, Julius asked an innocent question.
"Marx, why did you stop drinking chamomile? Is something bothering you?"
Marx smiled—
Pleasantly, politely.
Too politely.
"Nothing is wrong, Wizard King. I simply… feel differently now."
'Feel differently now.'
No reason.
No explanation.
Just a change.
A forced change.
A borrowed personality.
When Julius pressed further.
"Your handwriting has changed, too. Did you switch quills?"
Marx blinked.
Confused.
Genuinely confused.
"My handwriting? I… don't think it has changed at all."
That was when Julius felt his heart drop.
Marx wasn't lying.
He truly believed nothing was wrong.
Julius's Thoughts Spiral.
Now, alone in the candlelit office, Julius rubbed his forehead, eyes narrowing.
-Frown
"…This isn't normal."
His mind raced.
Traitors?
Possible…
But Marx was never one to switch loyalties.
Manipulation?
This felt deeper than suggestion.
Control magic?
Forbidden, ancient, extremely rare—yet not impossible.
And then Ben's voice echoed in Julius's memory, from their last meeting.
"There is a chance the infiltrator may not even know they're compromised. Someone could be controlled… or even possessed."
Possession.
Julius inhaled sharply.
-Sigh
Could someone powerful enough be hiding inside Marx?
Feeding on him?
Replacing parts of his personality gradually?
No… this wasn't random.
It was methodical.
Someone was adjusting Marx piece by piece.
Like tuning an instrument.
Julius' expression hardened.
"This… is exactly the kind of enemy Ben warned me about."
His Greatest Fear
If Marx —
Loyal, skilled, trustworthy Marx —
Could be compromised…
Then anyone could.
A captain.
A vice-captain.
A royal.
Even someone Julius personally raised.
"…How deep has this infiltration gone?"
Outside the window, thunder rumbled.
A storm gathering over the capital.
Julius stood slowly, pacing the room, cloak trailing behind him.
"Marx doesn't know he's changing. That means the manipulation is internal… subtle… and highly advanced."
He clenched his jaw.
"Possession magic, curse manipulation, or—"
He paused.
Eyes widening slightly.
"…or an elf soul using a host."
The thought chilled him.
If Marx was being overwritten, just like William…
Time was running out.
Julius reached for a sealed parchment—
He tucked the parchment under his cloak and turned toward the door.
He needed answers.
He needed to test Marx.
He needed to confirm what lived inside William.
He needed to prepare for a war of souls.
As he reached for the doorknob, he stopped.
A soft, polite knock came from the other side.
"...."
It was Marx's voice—
Calm and gentle, exactly as always.
"Wizard King, may I come in? There is something I… wish to discuss."
Julius's looked at him curiously.
Marx stood beside Julius's desk, posture perfect, expression professional.
"...."
To anyone else, he looked exactly as he always had —
Calm, collected, reliable.
He spoke with his usual tone.
"Wizard King, here is the compiled list of the bounty hunters who have reported sightings of the Eye of the Midnight Sun. The Diamond Kingdom border patrol also requested additional backup due to unusual magic pressure yesterday…"
Julius listened quietly, face unreadable.
"...."
But his mind was crackling with suspicion.
'This Marx was normal. Perfectly normal.'
Too normal.
The cadence matched.
The vocabulary matched.
The posture matched.
But the magic signature, faint as a breath…
It fluctuated.
Like someone adjusting a mask.
Julius narrowed his eyes.
-Frown
'…This is the Marx I know. Friendly. Loyal. Efficient. So why did he sound like someone else earlier? Is it alternating? Shifting? Is he being overridden slowly?'
Marx continued.
"—and the royal knights stationed near Fosborough Village have sent another report about the rising rogue magic attacks…"
Julius snapped out of his thoughts and nodded.
"...."
-Nod
"Good work, Marx. As always."
Marx smiled warmly —
Too warmly.
"Serving you is my honor, Wizard King."
Julius watched him bow and leave, the door closing gently behind him.
The moment Marx's presence faded down the hallway,
Julius exhaled.
-Sigh
"…It's progressing. Whatever is happening to him… it's getting stronger."
He pressed his fingers to his temples.
"...."
"A personality shift that reverts and changes… At this rate, Marx will become someone else entirely."
He sat down slowly, whispering to himself.
"Ben… your warning was right."
MEANWHILE...
OUTSIDE THE WITCH FOREST...
Dark clouds swirled above the treetops as two figures in white cloaks appeared through a shimmering portal of light.
The forest air twisted, reacting to their presence.
Patolli —
Disguised as "Licht" —
Stood tall, golden eyes glowing beneath the illusion.
Beside him, Fana hovered slightly, fire dancing on her fingertips.
"...."
"...."
Her smile was gentle, but her aura was volatile —
A quiet flame ready to devour.
Before them stretched the Witch Forest —
Dense, ancient, brimming with magic.
Patolli spoke in a calm, resolute tone.
"The Witch Queen has one of the magic stones—an essential piece for our resurrection. She wears it as an earring."
Fana nodded deeply, flames rising around her like flower petals.
-Nod
"...."
Patry continued, voice lower.
"Do not engage unless necessary. Retrieve the stone at all costs. Avoid casualties if you can… but above all—do not let the Clover Kingdom interfere."
Fana placed a hand over her chest in loyal acknowledgement.
"I understand. For our people… I will succeed."
Patolli's gaze hardened.
Through the trees, faint lights flickered —
The festival bonfires of the Witch Forest.
He felt it.
A presence.
A distortion.
"…Ben Kira is there."
He suppressed a scowl.
The anomaly.
The unpredictable king.
The one who continuously disrupted fates that were meant to be fixed.
Fana looked at him.
"Shall I eliminate him?"
"No."
Patolli shook his head sharply.
"He is too dangerous to confront unprepared. Retrieve the stone first. I will handle Ben Kira when the time comes."
Fana bowed once more.
Then she vanished —
Swallowed by her own flames as she moved toward the Witch Queen's palace.
Patolli remained, staring at the forest.
His golden eyes narrowed.
-Frown
"...."
"…We must succeed."
Fana drifted through the dense purple fog of the Witch Forest,
Her cloak wrapped tightly around her.
Each of her footsteps melted softly into leaves and embers.
She hid her aura well.
But this was the Witch Forest.
And nothing entered unnoticed.
High above, perched on a twisted crimson branch,
A raven turned its head sharply.
Its eyes glowed with the Witch Queen's magic.
It saw Fana.
It listened.
And the forest itself seemed to shiver.
Then—
CAW!
The raven launched into the air like a black arrow,
Cutting through the treetops and spiraling toward the Witch Queen's castle.
Witch Queen sat upon her throne, posture elegant, expression cold but thoughtful.
Across from her stood Vanessa, hands clasped nervously behind her back,
Gathering courage to speak again.
Their conversation paused as the raven swooped in through the open window,
Landing gracefully on the obsidian railing beside the throne.
The Queen's eyes flicked toward it.
The raven whispered —
Its voice like echoes inside her mind.
A foreign presence…
An intruder…
A woman.
The Witch Queen's brows tightened for a moment —
Then relaxed slightly.
"A woman, you say…? At least it is not a man trespassing."
Her voice slid through the room like silk over steel.
Vanessa stiffened, watching her mother's expression shift.
"...."
"...."
The raven continued its rapid, urgent whispering:
— powerful fire magic…
— unknown signature…
— not from the Witch Forest…
The Witch Queen's eyes narrowed to slits.
-Frown
This was no ordinary intruder.
Still seated, she lifted her hand with effortless authority.
"Send a recon squad."
Her voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the halls.
Two witches stationed near the entrance immediately straightened.
"Y-Yes, Witch Queen!"
They left hurriedly to confront the intruder.
The Queen leaned back slowly, fingertips tapping her throne's armrest.
"If a witch approaches my forest, she must have a reason. We shall ask her politely… once."
Her crimson eyes sharpened —
Glowing faintly.
Vanessa swallowed nervously.
-Gulp
She had never seen her mother adopt this mixture of caution and curiosity.
"Mother… do you sense danger?"
The Witch Queen gave her a small, unsettling smile.
"I sense a disturbance. Not from her alone… But something following her."
Vanessa's heartbeat quickened.
"Could it be she is after the king?"
The Queen's eyes flicked toward her daughter.
"Clover King and his entourage are inside my territory. They are safe..."
She lowered her voice.
"But fate itself twists and coils tonight. I can feel it."
The raven let out a low croak, as if agreeing.
-Croak
"...."
Fana continued walking, mask of calm never faltering.
Suddenly—
SHHHHH—
Leaves parted as three witches emerged, staffs ready.
Their leader stepped forward, chin high.
"Halt. You've entered Witch Queen territory. State your name and purpose."
Fana froze.
"...."
A gentle smile formed on her lips—
But the fire behind her eyes flickered dangerously.
"My name… does not matter."
The witches exchanged wary glances.
"Then state your purpose."
Fana lifted her head slowly, her voice like a soft, warm exhale.
"I'm simply here… to retrieve something that belongs to my people."
Before the witches could react—
A wave of heat burst outward, bending trees and cracking the ground.
The witches staggered back in shock.
Their eyes widened.
"...."
"...."
This was no ordinary magic.
This was—
"Spirit-level fire…?!"
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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