In the southwestern edge of the Britain Kingdom...
On a floating island, isolated from the territory of Marquis Clauveg, thick gray clouds spiraled, spinning around a colossal prison.Rising like a scar across the sky, that maximum-security fortress stood at the center, its containment walls carved with ancient magic and runic metal stretching out like veins of power across the entire island.
Containment circles, stacked barriers, and magical runes from past generations protected it, vibrating with a deep, living energy.It was a bastion built not just to imprison bodies—but to contain entire souls: rogue mages, ex-knights of the realm, and living disasters.
In the deepest part of the underground dungeon, the sound of footsteps echoed along the dark, damp walls. Metallic echoes.A group of soldiers advanced down the corridor, lit by magical torches.The oldest among them—a man with a tired gaze and a gravelly voice—turned slightly toward the rookie walking beside him.
—Roger Cleiv: Impressive, isn't it, rookie?
—Mason: It's very impressive...
They passed a particular cell.Mason stopped instinctively, his eyes locking onto the interior.The shadows couldn't fully hide the silhouette of the chained man.Hanging by his arms, the figure remained motionless, suspended by thick red chains that pulsed like they had a heartbeat.Behind him, a large magic circle remained active, glowing like an unblinking eye.
Mason frowned, curious, and turned to the corporal leading the patrol.
—Mason: Who is that man, Corporal?
They all stopped in front of the cell.A brief silence followed, almost reverent.The corporal squinted, with a certain respect laced with disdain.
—Kleit Winchester: Him… that's Baltazar Lake. Pitiful state, isn't it?
—Mason: He does look terrible, but… those chains, what are they made of? Why are they glowing?
—Kleit Winchester: Those chains are made of Mithril. And they glow because of the mana-absorption runes—they feed the magic suppression circle. That's how we keep him properly contained…
—Mason: What the hell did that man do to end up here?
—Kleit Winchester: I don't remember… He's been here over twenty years. Do you remember anything, Roger?
—Roger Cleiv: Sure do, sir… From what I recall, he used to be a feudal lord and a disciple of Merlin himself. I don't remember what triggered it, but what I do remember is that lunatic burned down his entire territory. Merlin forged those chains himself—and placed that circle behind him...
The group relaxed slightly, the tension of mystery fading.Mason smiled kindly, almost childlike.
—Mason: Thanks for answering my questions.
But as everyone prepared to continue their rounds, Mason lingered behind.His gaze darkened.With the precision of a trained assassin, he unsheathed his sword and drove it—without warning—into Roger's back.
Blood splattered across the wall.The soldiers turned immediately, horrified.Chaos erupted in seconds—swords drawn, shouts demanding answers.
—Mason: I need to take that man with me.
The words came cold as a death sentence.
Before the others could react, multiple projectiles shot out from the darkness, whistling through the air and slicing through bodies like invisible blades.Mason turned toward the source of the attacks and bowed.
—Mason: Second Disaster, Seider. First Disaster, Netys… you heard my psychic signal.
From the far end of the hallway, two figures emerged.Seider—his face completely hidden beneath a black hood—moved like a war-born specter.Netys, meanwhile, lowered her hood with an annoyed expression.
—Netys: Mason, drop the damn formalities with me. Just call me by name. And stop saying "First Disaster"—it sounds weird.
—Mason: Sorry, Soria… but those are the leader's orders.
—Netys: Dumbass rules… Hey you, leech. Those blood spears you launched were solid.
—Seider: Shut it, and let's grab the guy...
They approached the cell.Mason knelt before the lock, his hands beginning to emit a dark energy—dense as tar.The lock groaned under the overload, twisting with metallic moans until it finally gave way.
—Seider: So that's the power the leader gave you.
—Mason: Y-yeah… it's very useful to me...
—Netys: He's impressive. Made infiltration easy as hell.
—Seider: Hmmm… My first time seeing that psychic power. Very different from fairy magic.
—Mason: Thank you. It's an innate talent I was born with—it's why the leader trusts me.
—Seider: Fine. Break the chains—I'll handle the magic circle.
They worked in silence for several minutes.Finally, the chains dropped with a heavy clang.The man opened his eyes slowly.Eyes with no light—yet full of menace.He stared at the three intruders.His voice came out as a growl from a dry throat.
—Baltazar Lake: Who are you?... No—what do you want?
The air tensed like a thread on the verge of snapping.Seider lowered his hood, revealing white skin that shimmered under the red glow of the circle, and blood-colored eyes that radiated ancient power.
—Seider: You're pretty… Tell me—do you want to be a corpse?
Netys stepped in abruptly, placing herself between them.A wave of bloodlust burst from her, making the air go heavy.So heavy it forced everyone—even Seider—to step back slightly, gasping under the sudden weight.
When the pressure eased, Mason stepped forward and spoke calmly:
—Mason: We're from Caos... The leader wants you to become the Seventh Disaster.
—Baltazar Lake: What is this... Caos? That woman's an eighth-class mage… and that guy on the floor's a vampire... Why the hell would you want me?
—Mason: Seventh-class mages are rare. And you... one with a double constitution—are even rarer.
—Baltazar Lake: What would I gain by joining you?
—Mason: Revenge, power, and a worthy death.Instead of rotting in a place like this.
Lake went silent. He lowered his gaze.A faint expression crossed his face—like the shadow of an old memory.Netys noticed it—and delivered a verbal dagger.
—Netys: And the chance to see your protégé again.
—Baltazar Lake: B-Bethany?
—Mason: Exactly.Alright, let's get out of here.
—Baltazar Lake: How? This entire fortress is crawling with hundreds of soldiers and mages.
—Netys: Leech, do your thing.I've known for a while you're doing just fine.
—Seider: Damn it… "Pfo Thur StoçaHruh."
Manipulating the blood in the air, and speaking those words, a red circular portal began to open before them.The air filled with a dark hum.Lake, still unsteady, watched in awe.
—Baltazar Lake: Spatial magic?! (I thought only Merlin had that constitution... but... a vampire? Does that even make sense?)
The fortress's magic alarms began blaring.A thunder of footsteps approached—soldiers and mages moving like an incoming wave.Netys turned to Seider, furious.
—Netys: How long is that damn portal going to take, leech?!
—Seider: Almost there... I'm syncing the coordinates.
Just as the first wave of soldiers rounded the corner, they saw four figures stepping into the portal.Lake was the last.Before disappearing, he raised his hand—and flipped them the middle finger with a wild grin.
The sergeant who arrived at the cell went wide-eyed.
—Hans Leiwer: Report immediately to the capital and the Magic Tower in Magonia!The Royal Chancellor Merlin must know—right now!