"Now that I think about it…" Lou murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Amira should be at the Academy by now."
He didn't seem to be talking to us, more like voicing his thoughts out loud.
"Who's Amira?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lou gave a half-hearted wave, as if the answer didn't matter much. "An interesting Crowd Controller," he said, his tone vague, distracted. "You'd like her. Probably."
And just like that, he straightened, brushing the dust from his sleeves. The subtle shift in his posture marked the end of the conversation.
"I'm heading out," he announced, voice carrying a firm edge. "And I will be reporting everything I've seen—everything—especially about you, Bug."
I groaned internally. Here we go again.
Lou's eyes narrowed with just a hint of mischief as he added, "You'd better brace yourself. When we return to Alaranta, the Council of the Eight Ones will want to have a little… chat."
"Looking forward to it," I said flatly.
Mina slipped her hand into mine. I squeezed it gently, silently promising I wouldn't let anything happen to her.
Lou turned on his heel but paused, glancing back one last time. He pointed squarely at Mina.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Protect Mina with your life."
His gaze locked with mine, no trace of his usual teasing. Just unshakable seriousness.
"Consider this your first official mission as a Flow Practitioner."
My heart skipped a beat—not because of fear, but because of the responsibility that came with those words. A real mission. A real purpose.
"I understand," I said quietly.
And I did.
I couldn't blame him, really. After everything he'd uncovered… after everything I had revealed—intentionally or not—it was only natural he'd want to keep me on a short leash.
Still, something about this mission felt different.
Maybe it was Mina's tiny hand gripping mine, or the fire in her eyes, desperate and innocent all at once.
Or maybe it was the whisper of fate brushing past us, like a storm we hadn't yet seen coming.
Either way... there was no turning back now.
"He said he'd be back in two days or so," I murmured to Mina, my gaze lingering on the fading horizon. "Can you still sense your mother's Mana?"
Her small hand trembled in mine as she gave a hesitant nod. "It's… getting weaker," she whispered, voice thin and laced with worry.
I tightened my grip gently, offering what little comfort I could. "We'll find her in time," I promised, forcing a smile I didn't fully believe in. "We'll save your mother—and everyone else, too."
She nodded in silence, hope flickering behind the fear in her eyes.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
That wasn't why I was doing this.
I was using Mina. A justification—nothing more—for chasing my own answers. She was too young to recall everything clearly, too fragile to carry the burden of the secrets I needed. But her mother? A Shlimm—grateful, indebted, and old enough to remember.
Now that was a lead I could use.
Still… as I looked down at the tiny fingers wrapped around mine, as I saw her fight to stay brave despite the weight pressing on her heart… I wondered.
Was something in me changing just to help someone else?
Who knows. But I really hope so.
"Hey," I said, eager to steer the conversation elsewhere, "What's your magic affinity?"
I already had a hunch. The Shlimm family had always been known for their Frost affinity.
Her eyes lit up a little, curiosity peeking through the fog of her sadness. "Frost," she said proudly. "I got it from my father."
I widened my eyes in playful astonishment, bringing a hand to my mouth like I'd just heard a royal secret. "Frost affinity, huh? Wow! That's amazing!" I leaned closer. "That means… you're from the main Shlimm family?"
Her chest puffed slightly, and a proud smile bloomed on her face. "Yes! I even know a few spells. Want to see one?"
I gave her a mock-serious nod, suppressing the real warmth rising in my chest. "Well, I suppose I must evaluate your skills, Lady Shlimm. Go ahead—impress me."
She giggled, stepping back with a little flourish. Raising her hand, she whispered a soft incantation.
"Whisper of the North, scatter and soothe—Snowflurry."
A pale light shimmered across her fingertips. Then, like a breath of winter, tiny snowflakes drifted into the air, dancing in slow spirals as the temperature around us dipped just slightly—cool, crisp, comforting.
My breath caught for a moment, not from the cold, but from the gentle beauty of it. Her eyes sparkled, wide with anticipation, waiting for my reaction like a performer before applause.
I let out a soft laugh, adding a playful twirl to mimic her snowflakes. "Ah! The air feels so refreshing now! How enchanting!"
I knelt slightly to meet her eye to eye. "Mina," I said with a smile, "you're going to be an incredible mage one day."
Her teeth flashed in a wide grin, a spark of triumph lighting up her eyes. A rosy blush crept across her cheeks. "Thank you!" she beamed. "I practiced really hard!"
I returned her smile, warmth blooming quietly in my chest.
This child… she was untouched by the filth of the world. Unspoiled by politics, bloodlines, or the twisted chains of power and slavery that tainted so many—like me. She was pure potential. A beacon of what magic could be when not used as a weapon or a burden.
If nurtured, guided with care, she could rise to unimaginable heights. A true prodigy in the making.
And yet fate had already left its mark. A soul so young, already scarred by tragedy. It wasn't fair—not even close.
I sighed inwardly. This world never did know how to hold onto its brightest lights.
Then—like a slap—I was hit with a jarring realization.
Well, not a realization… More like dusting off one of my memories' shelves… Yeah.
I could sense Mana.
Not just vaguely feel it… I see it. The warmth, the resonance—it's here, even in this life.
That… shouldn't be possible.
That completely went against everything I'd experienced since waking up in this world.
I raised a hand to my chin, furrowing my brow. If I could sense Mana, then maybe… just maybe… I could use it too?
Was this body capable of wielding magic? Of forming an affinity? Of generating Mana through training?
I glanced at Mina, who was now plucking petals off a nearby flower, blissfully unaware of the existential crisis brewing beside her.
"Hey, Mina!" I called, pointing at my own chest. "Can you, uh… see anything in me? Like a Mana Pool or something?"
She tilted her head, then squinted at me like a tiny detective trying to uncover a hidden clue.
"Hmm… I don't sense any Mana inside you," she admitted, then blinked in surprise. "But wait! You do have a Mana Pool!"
She lit up, giggling. "It's empty though. Like, completely empty! I've never seen anything like that before! It's funny!"
I chuckled awkwardly, though a part of me bristled. An empty Mana Pool, huh?
It was unexpected.
It meant something still lingered within me—something waiting to be awakened.
Of course, questions came tumbling in like an avalanche.
If I had a Mana Pool, could I absorb Mana naturally? Would I need to force it? And what about my affinity? Did I even have one?
Answers slipped further away the closer I reached for them. Every time I solved one mystery, three more popped up like weeds...
Sigh... For hell's sake...
I rubbed my temples with both hands and groaned.
Bruh… I swear, if I keep thinking this hard, I'm gonna die of stress before I even get to know who killed me in my past life…
My thoughts shattered the moment Mina stopped walking. Her hand—still wrapped in mine—grew colder by the second.
I glanced down, her trembling frame barely holding together.
My gaze shifted forward.
Stone steps.
Carved from pitch-dark rock, rough and ancient, they stretched down into a gaping maw of shadow. Was this... where she had been leading me all along?
Mina's tiny hand quivered as she pointed toward the descending staircase, her voice barely a whisper, brittle and frightened.
"It's here… Mama and the others… they're down there."
Her grip on my hand tightened, fragile yet desperate.
I understood her fear immediately. The stairway ahead was no simple path—it was dread carved into stone. No torches. No runes. Just cobblestone and rusted railings twisting into a suffocating abyss.
A child's nightmare made real.
Still, I couldn't let her freeze here. As cruel as it sounded, I needed her. I didn't know her mother's Mana signature, and she was my only beacon—my key to someone older who could finally explain what the hell was going on.
So I leaned down and met her frightened gaze.
"Don't be afraid," I said gently, brushing her bangs aside. "I'll protect you. We'll find your mother. Together."
She nodded slowly, the fear still clinging to her eyes—but she took a shaky step closer.
Night vision: activated.
The world took on a pale, bluish hue as I stepped forward. The first stone was cold under my sole, the chill bleeding through my sneakers like frostbite.
With each step downward, the air thickened.
It stank of rust, mold, and the heavy dampness of a place that hadn't seen sunlight in centuries.
The descent was cruel. Uneven steps slick with moisture forced our every move to be deliberate. I held Mina close, shielding her from the jagged walls that pulsed with moss and creeping insects.
There was no beauty here—only rot and echoes.
And yet, as I led her downward, something gnawed at the edge of my thoughts.
Why was this place so easy to find?
It wasn't hidden. There were no guards. No wards. No illusion spells.
A staircase this ominous—this obvious—was left right out in the open?
I narrowed my eyes.
So... they wanted us to come here?
My jaw tightened, a slow grin forming. Guess we'll find out what's waiting for us… soon enough.
The stone steps finally released us, giving way to a corridor that knew no light—only darkness thick enough to drown in.
A wave of stench slammed into me, unrelenting. Metallic rust, stale decay, and something sickeningly sweet that clung to the back of my throat.
The scent of blood.
Mina's small fingers tightened around mine, trembling, but she didn't falter. Neither did I.
Retreat wasn't an option. Not anymore.
I had stared down mages. Flow Practitioners. Beast packs that could tear through armies. And I'd come out breathing. Shaken, maybe, but whole. Fear? That was a luxury for someone else.
The corridor stretched on, endless and suffocating. Every step echoed into the void, mingling with the slow, rhythmic drip… drip… drip of water somewhere unseen.
Then—
BUZZZZZZ.
I stopped cold. My breath caught. My grip on Mina's hand tightened instinctively. Her eyes, wide and glassy, turned toward me.
"What is it?" she whispered, her voice as fragile as her frame.
"Shhh." I brought a finger to my lips, scanning the corridor. "It's… too quiet."
She blinked. "But it's always quiet down here."
I shook my head, every instinct on red alert. "Not this kind of quiet."
This wasn't silence. This was anticipation.
The air grew heavy—no, alive. It pulsed with something ancient and sharp, like a heartbeat made of thunder. A sudden wave of raw Mana surged forward, riding alongside another energy I recognized as well.
Flow and Mana.
I felt it crash into me like a rising tide.
"You feel that, Mina?" I whispered, my voice low, eyes darting ahead. I slipped an arm around her waist and hoisted her up.
She nodded, barely flinching. "Mama's close," she murmured. "Her Mana… it's near."
A flicker of hope stirred in my chest.
"Good," I muttered. "Keep tracking her. Lead me straight to her."
"Understood!" Her voice, though small, was laced with determination.
And just like that—
Adrenaline Rush.
My blood lit up like wildfire, limbs humming with unnatural strength. In a flash, I launched forward, speed overtaking gravity.
Mina held on tight.
The Morphblade morphed with a whisper, unraveling from my arm like liquid night, coiling into a whip of pure black energy. I clenched it in my left hand, its presence a comfort as much as a weapon.
Whatever fleeting comfort we held onto was shattered the moment they emerged—grotesque parodies of humanity, twisted into walking nightmares.
Humanoid, yes. But only in the most superficial sense.
Misshapen bodies lurched from the shadows, limbs missing or multiplied at unnatural angles. Their skin writhed like it no longer belonged to them, pulsing and undulating as if their flesh remembered how it used to be whole. Appendages jutted out from impossible places—bony arms, insectile claws, or worse, remnants of what were once wings or tails.
Their faces… gods. Their mouths were open wounds, jagged and wrong, not made for speech, yet leaking whispers. Moans, groans, guttural screeches—none of them belonged in this world. They clawed at the air with desperation, every step toward us filled with unholy agony.
But it wasn't just their appearance.
I could feel it. Their aura. A dissonant, jarring mixture of Mana and Flow—bound together in a way that should never have been possible.
These weren't Beasts.
These used to be people.
"What the hell are those?" I muttered under my breath, though the words were swallowed by the chorus of their screams.
With a flick of my wrist, the whip lashed out, searing through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed in thick arcs, but the creatures didn't falter. Limbs severed. Ribs shattered. Faces torn open.
They kept coming.
Why weren't they stopping?
A bitter taste flooded my mouth. Whatever was done to them… it wasn't just cruel—it was taboo. A violation of life and soul that reeked of forbidden arts, the kind that made even murder seem merciful by comparison.
Then—between the cacophony—I heard it.
No, not heard.
Understood.
"Oww…"
"It hurts…"
"I can't live like this…"
"Please…"
"Kill me…"
"End us…"
Their voices—raw, broken—cut through the noise. No longer screams, but pleas. A dirge of agony sung by the damned. A requiem for lives twisted beyond saving.
Each word landed like a blade against my chest.
Mina clung to me, her sobs muffled into my shoulder. Her small body trembled as her tears soaked through my coat. She didn't speak. She didn't have to. The horror on her face mirrored the chaos in my heart.
Meanwhile, I steeled myself.
My whip lashed again. I struck with precision and mercy, ending their torment as swiftly as I could.
But it didn't matter.
For every one I felled, two more rose.
No, they didn't even die…
Their numbers swelled. The corridor became a tide of sorrow and flesh, crashing against us, dragging me toward something far more terrifying than death.
And through it all—those voices persisted.
"End us."
"End us…"
"End… us…"
Were they truly once human… or had whatever humanity they had been completely devoured?
I shook my head. There was no time to dwell on it.
I clenched my jaw. Mina came first.
"We don't have time for this!" I growled, voice low and ragged. I seized the fleeting moment—their twisted forms still recoiling from my last attack—and launched myself forward, vaulting above the horde in a blur of movement. My feet barely touched their malformed shoulders before I leapt again, soaring past them.
The corridor stretched endlessly ahead.
Tsk… How long was this damn tunnel?
But we couldn't stop. Not now.
Mina's mother. The other captives. The truth. All of it lay somewhere ahead.
"Lina!" Mina's voice cracked through the gloom. Her tiny hands clutched my coat with trembling desperation. "Lina! She's close—I can feel her Mana!"
I slowed. "Where?" I asked.
Her finger shot out, pointing toward the moss-covered wall on our right. Her eyes, wide with conviction, glimmered with unshed tears.
"Behind this wall! I'm sure of it!"
No hesitation.
The Morphblade shifted form in my grasp, reshaping itself into a long, obsidian-edged greatsword. With a deep breath, I raised it—and brought it down.
A thunderous crack split the air as stone shattered beneath the force of my strike. Dust billowed, choking the corridor, but I didn't stop. I kicked through the debris, forcing a jagged opening just wide enough to pass.
Beyond it—another corridor.
Tsk… Are you kidding me? It mirrored the last. Cold. Lifeless. The same oppressive dark. Like we'd stepped deeper into a damned labyrinth.
"This way!" Mina cried. She pointed again, guiding us through the gloom. The air around us vibrated with a familiar surge of corrupted Flow and Mana.
Then—
They were waiting.
Another wave of those things. A grotesque wall of limbs and agony blocking our path. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Their gaping mouths shrieked at our intrusion, bodies twitching with unnatural hunger.
"Not again." I spat the words through gritted teeth.
I wouldn't be trapped here. Not in this endless cycle of butchery.
I leapt—my body twisting midair as I laned on the wall, then I flipped over their heads. Gravity was just a suggestion at this point.
I landed behind them, skidding across the cracked stone floor. I didn't look back. Just kept moving, my grip tight around Mina as she clung to my side.
Their screaming faded behind us—but not for long.
"LINA!" Mina's cry pierced the air again, sharper this time, desperate.
I stopped in my tracks.
"She's close!" Mina gasped. "We've passed her! We have to go back!"
I clenched my jaw, every nerve in my body screaming in protest. "Are you serious right now?" I muttered.
But when I turned to look at her—those eyes, wide and pleading—I already knew my answer.
...Dammit.
We turned.
The horde that we passed earlier had closed the gap again, as if time and distance meant nothing to them. Another wave. Even more than before. Endless. Merciless. Screaming with pain and rage and loss.
And yet… I ran toward them.
For her.
"Eidos: Zephyr!"
I unleashed my Flow.
With a forward thrust of my foot, the wind obeyed my will—shaped into a razor-edged crescent, it howled through the corridor like a reaper's scythe. I sent the blade of wind screaming into the horde.
The detonation of force was devastating.
The monstrosities were torn apart, shredded as though paper caught in a storm. Limbs flew. Flesh unraveled. The air grew thick with the scent of rot and blood—but still they came.
They refused to die.
Relentless.
I gritted my teeth, the Morphblade shifting in my grip, elongating into its whip form once more. With a sharp flick of my wrist, it danced—black and fluid, cracking through the air, rending through twisted forms like butter. A blur of motion. Precision born of necessity. Every movement had to count. No hesitation. No mercy.
Because, just like fear, mercy was a luxury we couldn't afford.
These weren't people anymore. Whatever they used to be… they were gone. Hollowed. Twisted. Lost.
And yet—
They screamed.
They begged.
For release.
"Please… kill me…"
The voices clawed at my sanity. I shut them out. I had to. For the mission.
I kept fighting—
Until my body gave out.
My knees hit the stone. I collapsed forward, barely catching myself with one hand, my other still clutching the whip. My breath tore in and out of my lungs like jagged glass. My arms trembled, every muscle screaming in protest.
Around me… silence.
They'd stopped moving.
No regeneration, thank the hells. If they'd had that, I'd be dead ten times over.
My vision swam, but I could still make out Mina's small figure standing among the still-twitching corpses. Frozen. Her wide eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the grotesque aftermath like broken glass.
She shouldn't have seen this.
A child her age… shouldn't ever have seen this.
And then—she moved.
Hesitantly, her tiny feet shuffled forward, as if pulled by something deeper than fear. Her breath hitched with sobs, but she pressed on. Slowly. Bravely.
She stopped.
Before one of the bodies.
I blinked.
It was one of the creatures I had cleaved clean in half, its upper body severed from its legs—torn, twisted, inhuman.
And yet—
Mina knelt.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around it—small, trembling arms clinging to what remained. Her sobs grew louder, filling the cold corridor with raw, unfiltered pain. Her tears fell like summer rain, soaking into its ashen flesh.
"…What…?" I muttered.
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. My mind couldn't grasp it. Why was she—
And then, she whispered a single word.
A word that shattered everything.
A word that pierced me deeper than Lucifer's Claws.
"Mom…"