The legendary knight Baron had fallen to Yun Li's hand—a grim event that swiftly became the most whispered subject among the leaderless apprentices aboard the great ocean-going vessel.
None could say why Baron had suddenly struck at Yun Li, but all knew the will of the great Wizard Dira must lie behind it.
For without such command, Baron would never have made so reckless an assault.
Yet who could have foreseen that Yun Li—idly toying with a white mouse—would meet the ambush as though he had long been expecting it?
Sorcery strange and eldritch clashed with the mighty sweep of a great axe; for several fierce exchanges they fought, until, in an instant, Baron's head vanished. The wound at his neck was smooth as a mirror's face, and his headless body crumpled forever to the deck.
Yun Li, unperturbed, caught his breath but briefly, then returned to his mouse, as though Baron's murderous attack had been no more than a passing breeze.
Those who had witnessed the duel could only stare in speechless dread.
In their eyes, he was no longer a man, but a monster—something no sane soul would dare provoke.
A day later…
A vast shadow fell upon the Lilith's Cottage Academy vessel. Apprentice after apprentice emerged from the cabins, aghast at the sight above: a great black cloud of ravens blotting out the sun.
None knew if Dira lived or perished.
From the roiling darkness descended a lone, robed figure. As he alighted upon the deck, the ravens streamed toward him in two great currents, jostling to vanish into the yawning darkness of his wide sleeves—sleeves whose inner space seemed without end. Within moments, the sky was bare once more.
Gasps spread among the apprentices as they beheld his face—if face it could be called.
No eyes, no nose, no mouth—only a smooth expanse of flesh, like skin stretched taut over a skull. A horror to behold.
"Heh-heh… little ones, welcome to the Blackspike Tower Academy."
The ship, bound for Lilith's Cottage, had been seized—claimed by a darker, far more formidable citadel of magic.
The faceless wizard's unseen gaze swept the crowd, coming to rest upon Yun Li and Bibiliona. His voice was a sly hiss.
"You may call me Faceless Mask… or the Faceless Mask. I care not."
From among the uneasy apprentices, one strode forth without fear, offering the wizard a raven.
"Master," he said, his voice low.
"Well done."
The Faceless Mask praised him lightly. The raven flickered once, then vanished into the abyss within that sleeve.
Now all eyes fixed upon the apprentice—this betrayer. Even the dullest among them understood: it was he who had been the hidden hand against Wizard Dira.
The realization chilled them. Who was this man?
Elsewhere, Greene, Raffie, Yorkris, and Yorkliana stood frozen, cold sweat down their backs, for they recognized the man—it was Kiram, the one who had always looked down on them.
Yet Kiram spared them not so much as a glance. Instead, his interest shifted toward Yun Li and Bibiliona.
The Faceless Mask cared nothing for the apprentices' mutterings. After a moment's cold mirth, his voice rang with cruel command:
"Blackspike Tower stands within the Twelfth District of the Seventh Ring Holy Tower—an academy for dark wizards. We honor one law: the strong devour the weak; the weak are cast aside."
His smile twisted.
"To accustom you to our ways—and to rid us of the useless—from this day forward, the ship shall abide by a single rule…
"Every dawn, I will see that five among you have been cast into the sea. Fail in this, and I will choose ten at random… and slay them myself."
With a languid gesture toward a sailor in the distance, the man exploded—without warning—into a storm of flesh and blood.
Screams rose; panic swept the deck. The wizard's voice was calm.
"Just like that."
The apprentices stared, chilled to the marrow, as though facing some cannibal demon.
"From this moment," the Faceless Mask continued, "my word is law—unless one of you can defeat me… and kill me. Heh-heh… see you in the morning, little ones."
He turned his back, conjuring a sumptuous tent at the deck's edge, and disappeared within with the ship's first mate, plotting a new course.
The deck bristled with wary eyes. Greene glanced toward Yorkris, Yorkliana, and Raffie; the same unease shone in all of them.
Yorkris clutched his sister. "We… we're not truly going to do as he says, are we?"
"I don't want to die," Raffie replied flatly. "And to live… perhaps." Her glance at Greene was unreadable.
Greene accepted it in silence—he was already turning the grim matter over in his mind.
If the voyage took forty days, two hundred lives would be thrown to the sea. Sixty days… and could he himself survive?
A shriek cut the air. A young witch plunged her dagger into an apprentice's chest again and again, screaming vengeance for one named Rhea. The onlookers turned away—whether from fear, or because they suspected she was only the first to obey the new "rule."
One by one, apprentices slipped away from the deck. Greene's group made for Raffie's quarters to speak in private. Only three figures remained upon the planks—Yun Li, Bibiliona, and Kiram. All three were dangerous.
In the cabin, Yorkris muttered, "What do we do? Kiram—Solam, he calls himself now…"
"One step at a time," Raffie said, producing a small, elegant hand crossbow. "Not a wizard's weapon, but the venom on this bolt could fell a grown elephant."
Greene paled. "Keep it for now. We'll be at sea a long while yet, and Solam shows no interest in us—for the moment."
Raffie nodded and tucked it away. They passed the night crowded together.
At dawn, a murmur drew them back on deck. Apprentices had formed wary clusters, each separated from the others.
The Faceless Mask appeared. "Only three today? Two short… then—"
Four sharp detonations. Four more apprentices burst into red ruin, gore splattering across all present.
Raffie and the Yorkris siblings retched; Greene wiped the blood from his face, eyes scanning the crowd.
The faceless wizard's unseen gaze swept over them once more.
"Remember," he said, "Blackspike Tower is still of the Seventh Ring, and thus bound not to slaughter human commoners. But you are no longer commoners. The wizard's path is strewn with thorns."
He turned to leave—then paused.
"Save for First Mate Lab, Solam, Yun Li, and Bibiliona… the rest of you had best choose your five. Or risk becoming tomorrow's example."
The named three departed without a word; Bibiliona's lovely face curled into an amused smile.
The rest stood drenched in gore, the stench of blood heavy in the air. None dared wash themselves—not before the matter of the five was settled.
"KILL!"
A roar broke the tension. The surviving sailors, barely more than a dozen, charged a nearby group of five hapless apprentices—children of fortune, armed with neither skill nor sorcery. In heartbeats, they were cut down and thrown to the sea.
The sailors' leader wiped his blade. "In this world, only the cruel live long. From now on, find your five yourselves. Or we'll find them for you."
They stalked away, leaving Greene and his companions pale-faced—their group had been perilously close to the slaughter.
Now, aboard the blood-soaked vessel, every cluster of apprentices faced the same grim question:
Who must die, to keep the rest alive?