The sun barely broke through the gray sky when Alexius woke the group. The cold didn't come from the wind, but from its absence — the kind of cold that belongs to a vacuum, not a morning. The camp still carried the metallic scent of the night: damp dust, stiffened fabric, almost-extinguished smoke.
The horses, restless, struck the ground with their hooves, snorting at the void ahead of the dark cleft that awaited them. They seemed to sense that light ended there.
— They won't go any further — said Alexius, tightening his cloak.
— Why? — asked Ichika, half-asleep, rubbing her eyes.
— Because they know what men still pretend not to — he replied. — There are places life itself avoids.
With ropes and stones they improvised a small enclosure. The horses backed away on their own, turning their faces from the mountain. Alexius murmured something in a forgotten language, and the crystal seal around his neck pulsed once. A translucent barrier formed around the animals — a faint vibration, barely visible, but enough to keep the shadows away.
— When we return, they'll still be here — said Alexius.
Kidero grumbled:
— If we return.
Mia, while tying her hair, glanced toward the mountain's entrance — a narrow opening that seemed to move slightly, as if breathing.
— Sensei… what about food and water? — she asked, hesitant. — There are no rivers, no plants. Our supplies won't last long.
Alexius opened his side pouch and pulled out a small metal flask. The liquid inside glowed with a soft blue pulse, as if it contained breath itself.
— Inside Mount Arf, matter blurs with mana — he explained calmly. — The body stops feeling hunger, but still weakens if its energy runs low.
He raised the flask.
— This is condensed mana. One drop per canteen keeps the body awake and the spirit balanced.
Kazuko arched a brow, half skeptical.
— So that's it… we're drinking magic now?
Alexius met his gaze briefly.
— Inside or outside, that's what we've always done.
They prepared in silence. The sound of buckles, the creak of boots, the snap of straps became the only language left.
When they crossed the entrance, the world seemed to swallow sound itself.
The cave didn't smell like stone. It carried the scent of something too ancient to name — a dense, electric air that scratched the throat and tingled beneath the skin.
Each step echoed before the sound could form.
Droplets slid from the ceiling but floated back up before touching the ground.
The crystal seal on Alexius's neck began to glow slowly, syncing with the artifact at his belt — a metallic sphere carved with spiral lines, pulsing gently every ten seconds.
— Without this, we'd be walking inside a shattered mirror — he said, gauging their reaction.
— And that stabilizes it? — someone asked from behind.
— It doesn't stabilize — replied Alexius. — It just convinces space to pretend it's whole.
Arthur watched the reflections flicker along the walls, feeling something resonate inside him. The air felt alive, and the light moved as though watching him back. A chill ran through his spine, instinct warning of danger before danger existed.
Beside him, Kazuko noticed the shimmer on Arthur's skin — a faint blue glow, like fire trapped beneath flesh.
— You okay? — he asked, swallowing hard.
Arthur blinked, dazed.
— Yeah… I think so.
But Kazuko frowned, sensing his own power react. The venom that coursed through his veins — his living magic — writhed, shifting beneath his skin as if afraid. His hands trembled involuntarily.
— My venom… it's moving on its own — he said softly, uneasy.
Alexius turned immediately.
— Keep control. In here, mana obeys will more than logic. Lose focus, and your own body turns against you.
Kazuko drew a long breath, forcing the energy back under control. Mia placed a hand on his shoulder.
— Breathe with me — she said firmly. — Like in training.
The group advanced, one careful step after another, eyes sharp on the ground that changed color without warning. At each bend, the sense of depth twisted, as if they were descending and ascending at the same time. The shadows within the stone seemed to watch, silent and patient.
Arthur stopped for a moment. The air felt too heavy, though not from exhaustion.
He felt — or thought he felt — an ancient whisper coming from somewhere beyond the mountain. It wasn't the voice he already knew, nor the presence that froze time. It was something else — something forgotten, calling him by a name he didn't yet remember.
{ Kirk … }
The sound died before forming the word, but it was enough to throw his heartbeat off rhythm.
— Arthur? — Mia called from a few meters ahead.
— Coming — he answered, forcing a steady tone.
The path narrowed until it became a corridor that seemed alive. The walls pulsed faintly, breathing with them. The light from their magic torches trembled in colors that didn't exist outside this place — a spectrum between steel-blue and pale green.
No one spoke. Only the echoes breathed.
When they reached a wider ledge, Alexius raised a hand.
— Short break. Adjust your flow before we continue.
The students obeyed, forming a half-circle. Some sat, others closed their eyes, trying to realign their mana.
Arthur looked upward — at what he thought was the ceiling — and caught the faint motion of something above. A shadow that wasn't a shadow, moving at the edge of light.
By reflex, he touched the floor — and felt a faint vibration, as though the world itself replied to his touch.
— Sensei… — he called. — The mountain… does it listen?
Alexius opened his eyes and met his gaze.
— Everything here listens, Arthur. Even what never had ears.
Silence. And for a brief instant, the air seemed to agree.
The group gathered their torches and moved on.
And they went on without noticing that, upon the walls behind them, the shadows had begun to move on their own.