Leo and the others had spent several days in Niver, chasing whatever scraps of information they could find. Arthur had spoken with Bishop Zelis, hoping to uncover something useful, but so far nothing concrete had surfaced. The city still bore the scars of war some of the items stolen by the Shadow Circle was of here but even that lead had long gone cold.
Today was Wednesday, and they had another meeting scheduled for the evening.
In the meantime, Leo found himself out in the city with Briva and Elna, their so-called "investigation" turning into a shopping trip. This world or the previous girls were still girls, and their fondness for clothing shops seemed universal. Leo, however, walked along behind them with a mixture of patience and quiet suffering, the hours ticking away as they moved from shop to shop.
By the time they returned to the small house the church had provided, Leo looked as though he had fought a battle. Arthur was seated at the table on the first floor, reading over a stack of documents. He glanced up, immediately noting the collection of bags dangling from Briva and Elna's hands and the weary slump in Leo's shoulders.
"Did you enjoy yourselves?" Arthur asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
Briva gave Leo a playful nudge with her elbow. "This one followed us the entire time without a single complaint." She held up one of the bags like a trophy. "We'll go try these on. Come on, Elna."
Elna smiled, following her upstairs without hesitation.
Leo sank into the chair across from Arthur, exhaling as if finally free of some silent ordeal.
"You okay?" Arthur asked, setting the papers aside.
"Yeah. Just tired and in desperate need of a bath," Leo replied. "Also, don't forget about the gathering tonight."
Arthur's brow furrowed slightly. "That reminds me... were you the Mr. Clone in that secret meeting? The one where the Creator pulled me out?"
Leo's eyes lingered on him for a second before answering. "Most of the time, yes."
Arthur tilted his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"For example," Leo said evenly, "the one who saved you that was the Creator."
He didn't elaborate. Instead, he rose from the table and headed toward the bathroom, leaving Arthur staring after him with unanswered questions.
...
Night blanketed the streets of Niver, and the muffled hum of the city outside faded into stillness. Leo and Arthur climbed the narrow stairs to their rooms, each man retreating behind a wooden door.
Leo lay back on his bed, closing his eyes as if to sleep but his mind sank inward, and the creak of the floorboards vanished. The smell of aged timber was replaced by the faint, cold scent of stone. He opened his eyes to the pale gleam of his white throne, the marble surface cool beneath his touch.
He rose and crossed the hall, the sound of his boots echoing into the vast emptiness above. With a flick of his hand, the fog rolled down the grand staircase, thickening until nothing beyond was visible. Then, like threads pulled taut, his will reached outward and one by one, the members were drawn into his domain.
Arthur stood among them now, his eyes darting about the vast chamber.
Liam, Marco, and Alina stepped forward in unison, pressing their fists to their chests. "Good evening, Mr. Victor," they said together, their voices ringing faintly in the stone hall.
Their attention quickly shifted to the unfamiliar face at the back.
"Good evening," Leo said, his voice calm but carrying through the space. "This is Arthur Caelum, our newest member."
Liam's brows rose sharply. "Arthur Caelum... the Pope's son?"
"Is the Pope truly dead?" Marco asked, leaning slightly forward.
Leo raised a hand toward the ring of chairs. "We'll speak of that soon. For now, introductions." He made a small sweeping motion, and symbols of light shimmered into being above each person's head names written in clean, sharp script. "Arthur, choose a seat when you're ready."
Arthur scanned the glowing names before moving to a chair beside Alina. As he sat, a faint mark of a single sword appeared across his back, pulsing briefly before fading.
Leo's expression hardened. "The rumors you've heard are true. And yes Arthur is his son." His gaze slid to Alina. "The Pope ruled the Kingdom of Light, one of the three kingdoms beyond the Shadowlands."
He turned back to the group. He knew that it had been only days since Arthur lost his father, but this was no time to pause.
"This loss is a devastating blow," he said. "He was one of the few holding back a force that would see this world destroyed. I will not tell you its name not yet. At your current strength, even knowing it could place you in grave danger."
"The Creator is not yet fully awake," Leo continued, "but he has sealed this enemy once more. At best, the seal will hold for two years. In that time, we have two goals: first, to grow as strong as possible; second, to aid the Creator in awakening his full power."
Marco leaned forward. "How do we do that?"
"You three must each focus on your own path," Leo said, pointing to them in turn. "Liam, your current course is solid stay on it. Marco, you need to move to a larger city, find a master in your chosen path, and train without restraint. Alina your role will be critical. Hone both your assassin's abilities and your divination. On your expeditions, search for clues or artifacts tied to the Creator's scattered essence. Most will be in the hands of creatures of S-rank or higher."
He met her eyes directly. "And tell your leader, Arlasan when they choose to trust the Creator, delay the building of altars. For now, that must wait."
Alina's lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her face. She hadn't imagined Victor could know what her faction discussed in private or perhaps it was the Creator himself, speaking through him. Either way, she gave a slow, resolute nod. "I'll do what I can."
Leo's tone softened. "Good. Arthur and I will keep searching for any lead we can find. Information is as much a weapon as any blade."
Marco shifted in his seat. "I've heard another rumor my kingdom may be preparing to attack the Kingdom of Light."
Arthur frowned. "Didn't King Harvald swear he would not?"
Marco nodded reluctantly. "He did... but the king's been bedridden for days now. The word is, his condition is serious."
Leo tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. "An S-rank king doesn't simply fall ill."
Arthur leaned forward, his voice low. "His son the crown prince is an arrogant man. He's wanted this war for a long time."
Marco's gaze sharpened. "You think the prince poisoned his own father?"
Arthur didn't flinch. "It's possible."
Leo let the thought linger in the air a moment before shaking his head. "We'll know soon enough. For now, let's end the meeting."
With a flick of his wrist, a small leather pouch appeared in his hand and floated across the table to Marco. "Use this to go to a new city."
Marco caught it, feeling its weight. "How do I... bring this into the real world?"
"You'll need a magic bag," Leo replied.
Marco frowned. "I don't have one."
"Then I'll teleport it to you later," Leo said simply. "But make it a priority to acquire one."
He straightened in his seat, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Let's call the end of this gathering."
Marco gave a curt nod and rose. One by one, the others pressed their fists to their chests before fading from the domain, until only Alina remained.
She lingered, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Is... there something you want to say?" Leo asked.
A faint blush touched her cheeks. "Could I... see the flowers? Up close?"
Leo's lips curved into a small smile. "Of course."
They walked together toward the garden, the stone underfoot giving way to soft grass. The field of blossoms stretched ahead silver, crimson, and pale blue, swaying under an unseen breeze.
"Take all the time you need," Leo said, stepping aside.
Alina's eyes lit up. She stepped into the garden, fingertips brushing along delicate petals, her expression unguarded that night. The faint rustle of flowers followed her movements.
Leo turned away, leaving a fragment of his consciousness in the domain so he could bring her back when she was ready. Then, in the real world, the stillness of his small room returned.
...
When Leo finally finished in his domain, exhaustion pulled at him like chains. He were already collapsed on his bed, eyes shutting almost instantly.
He hadn't even drifted into proper sleep when…
Clack.
A sharp, brittle sound, like a stone striking glass, snapped him awake. Leo groaned, rubbing his eyes, and pushed himself upright. The sound came again, a sharper tik! this time. He dragged himself to the window and shoved it open.
Below, in the pale moonlight, Briva and Elna stood side by side, grinning up at him.
"Leo! Come down," Briva called. "Let's have some night fun."
Leo frowned, fishing out his pocket watch. "Do you know what time it is? I'm exhausted."
"Come on," she urged. "It's only one night."
He sighed, shut the window, and headed for the door. His feet pressed into the floorboards, which let out long, groaning creaks that echoed down the hall. Something was… off. The corridor seemed longer than usual, too long. The shadows clung to the walls, refusing to move even when he did.
At the stairs, he took the first step down and felt the world tilt. The staircase dropped away beneath him, stretching downward like a deep well. He staggered, nearly tumbling headfirst, a wave of dizziness smothering his thoughts.
'Am I really that tired?'
The thought barely formed before it slipped away. The downstairs was darker than it should be empty, dead silent. When he stepped outside, the familiar path was gone. In its place was a small, circular courtyard ringed by tall, windowless houses.
"This… wasn't here before."
Behind him, the door slammed shut hard enough to rattle his bones. He spun and grabbed the handle, it was locked. Briva and Elna were nowhere in sight. The shadows in the alleyways shifted. He felt them watching.
He looked up and froze. Two moons hung in the sky. Both were red.
"What the hell…"
"Leo?" Briva's voice called.
He turned toward it and saw only a narrow, pitch-black corridor where the street should be, stretching into some place he couldn't see.
He tried to stop his feet from moving, but they marched forward on their own, one slow step at a time. Panic clawed at him. He fought against his own body, but it was like moving through thick tar.
He forced himself to think. 'I was in my domain… I tried to sleep… and then…'
A sudden spark of clarity burned in his mind.
'I'm still sleeping. And I'm not alone.'
Mana surged through him. He wrapped himself in an Illusion, snapping free from the invisible pull. He jumped back into the center of the courtyard, chest heaving.
"What's wrong, Leo?" Briva's voice was soft now. She stepped from the shadows.
"Who are you?"
"You don't know me?" she said sweetly then her mouth stretched wide. Too wide. Bone snapped. Flesh tore. Rows of jagged teeth glistened in the red light. Fur sprouted from her head, curling into the shape of wolf ears.
"You used my power just days ago," she growled, her voice no longer human.
Her body twisted as she stepped forward arms elongating, joints bending wrong, bones cracking into new shapes. The skin peeled and fur burst from beneath it. The thing before him was no longer Briva, but a hulking, stinking werewolf.
It lunged.
Leo's blade was in his hand before it landed. His swing split the beast in half flesh tearing like wet cloth. The body fell to the ground, and the fur receded. Briva's human form lay there, trembling, tears in her wide eyes.
"Why…?" she whispered, before shuddering one last time and going still.
"Damn it," Leo muttered.
Another wolf crashed into him. He struck it down and when the corpse hit the ground, it was Frank. His friend from the paladin Association, the one that died in his arms.
"Leo…" Frank gasped, blood pooling under his head.
More wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes burning red.
Leo clenched his teeth. Even knowing it was an illusion didn't dull the sight. They looked too real. Felt too real. And he was still human he could still feel. With no other choice, he leapt skyward, rising above the square. The pack howled below.
That's when the air around him froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood upright.
He looked up. A colossal grin, made of teeth the size of houses hung in the sky. It sat directly beneath the two red moons. And then he realized those weren't moons at all.
They were eyes.
"You cannot run, little mortal," the mouth rumbled, the voice shaking the air.
Leo's blood ran cold. The voice belonged to the God of Werewolves, he'd come to kill Leo for stealing his power.
But this was Leo's dream, and he was an Illusionist. He called on every drop of mana, focusing on his domain. A deep, resonant ,BONG, like two massive bells, echoed through the void. A white and red mist swirled around him. The courtyard melted away, replaced by a vast palace of gleaming marble.
A stone throne materialized, and he floated down into it, sitting with deliberate calm.
His gaze locked on the massive eyes above. "If you want to kill me… you'll have to come in person."
He raised his sword, swung, and the blade's arc cut through the sky itself, splitting the mouth in two. The world cracked like glass. The god's laughter echoed as the fragments dissolved into nothing.
The voice lingered in the darkness. "This was only a greeting, mortal. The real hunt will come."
And then everything was gone.