10:30 PM — In Nivaria, the underground empire where morning is no different from night.
Dark matter began to spread there with varying intensities. Its source was Nivaria itself, yet even Nivaria did not comprehend the nature of this matter.
This matter became an unsolvable mystery. No one not belonging to the Shadow Division was allowed to go out at 10 o'clock, because that was the time when the matter began to spread.
You must abide by this law, and if courage comes to you and you decide to venture out at the time of the matter's spread, you must carry at least one candle.
And if you do not have a candle, the next day will be your burial day.
In the midst of this deep silence, three hooded figures approached, wearing black cloaks without names — a sign of their low rank.
As they kept walking, they took candles from their cloaks to continue their journey. The air was cold, and the flame atop the candles became stronger for a moment before turning faint.
For them, the extinguishing of the candles meant the extinguishing of their souls and the absorption of their bodies' energy by the dark matter.
Amid the dark matter they tried to survive. Unlike the others in the Shadow Division of low rank, death was insignificant. When a person was stripped of his name — the identity he was known by — replaced with a number, then he must accept that he is no longer human, only a tool to be destroyed at any moment.
On the left side of each cloak were written several numbers: Five Hundred and Seventy, Five Hundred and Eighty, and Sixty-Two.
Before them sat the wearer of the dark purple cloak on a worn wooden chair. He looked down at them with contempt and said in an arrogant and angry voice, "Fifty days ago you were sent to the Old Kingdom for three months of espionage. Why have you returned now?"
The one numbered Sixy-Two spoke quietly, a voice showing no anger, hiding his feelings. "Espionage in the Old Kingdom is no longer important."
The wearer of the dark purple cloak felt strange about his words. This was neither mockery nor foolishness but evidence of a terrifying event.
In the Shadow Division it was known that every word spoken carried weight — there was no joke or mockery; every word signified something important.
The wearer of the purple cloak asked what Sixty-Two meant, "What happened in the Old Kingdom that made espionage there unimportant? I hope your answer will be convincing."
Sixty-Two answered, "The Old Kingdom no longer exists. It was completely destroyed, everyone within it killed, its buildings shattered and corpses scattered by unknown forces whose owner we do not know, but we know that coming there means our death."
A voice emerged from nothingness, and the dark matter approached the place until even the candles meant to keep it away could not stop its spread. The tone of the voice was deep and beautiful: "If the Old Kingdom was destroyed, that was to be expected. Their excessive research was the cause of their doom."
This beautiful voice even made the arrogant wearer of the purple cloak bow in fear.
Sweat poured from their bodies, and they looked downward, their feet and hands trembling, their souls terrified.
Upon hearing such a deep beautiful voice, the noisy place became like a graveyard where only ghostly sounds could be heard.
You must adhere to the following laws when hearing this voice: Do not look at its shadow, do not speak unless permitted, do not ask about the black matter, bow immediately, and speak without hesitation, lest you appear weak before it.
This was the first time they heard this voice. From their numbers, they were still new. Among them, Five Hundred and Eighty was the most terrified. The owner of the voice had not revealed himself, as darkness became a veil hiding his horror. He said to Five Hundred and Eighty in his beautiful voice: "Five Hundred and Eighty, why are you the most afraid? Did you not join Nivaria and give up your name, and follow the laws? Then why do you not look down? Raise your head — I allow you."
Five Hundred and Eighty lifted his head, fearful and hesitant. His body trembled, his neck muscles stiffened, and he felt a weight pressing on his shoulders.
A voice echoed in his mind:
"Do not raise your head, do not raise your head, do not raise your head…"
The voice repeated three times, yet he decided to look at the voice's owner.
His eyes froze, unable to move, his heartbeat accelerating.
Before him were glowing purple eyes in utter darkness — darkness that could not be approached.
From that moment on, his body could no longer move his hands or feet.
Escape was no longer an option.
The dark matter silently approached.
He could no longer see clearly, and the matter came closer and closer until it surrounded his feet like ropes set by a hunter to ensnare prey. It lifted him from the ground without his notice, and his feet began to decompose slowly.
Then he saw the shape of the voice's owner:
A tall, thin body, pale white skin, slightly wavy thick black hair, sharp shining purple eyes staring at Five Hundred and Eighty with a smile upon his face. He wore a dark kimono with light armor on the shoulders and arms, and beneath him was a shadow unlike any human shadow — a shadow that made Five Hundred and Eighty cry like a child seeing a ghost.
"What's the matter? Why do you cry? Didn't you raise your head? Why fear?" His smile remained with his voice.
Five Hundred and Eighty's crying grew louder, enveloped by the black matter. He screamed at the top of his lungs: "Please, forgive me, forgive my foolishness."
The black matter became like dark steel chains, wrapping around his body and crushing his bones.
A cold shiver swept through him, piercing every part of his body, and his breaths became labored before a terrible pain struck him.
He felt a sting in his throat before he screamed, blood flowing from his eyes expressing a bodily cry:
"Kyaaagh."
While Five Hundred and Eighty screamed, Five Hundred and Seventy and Sixty-Two could only bow and listen to their comrade's torment.
Inside dark houses, residents hid, and children closed their eyes in fear, while windows were firmly shut.
His voice resonated across Nivaria.
Sixty-Two's cloak became soaked with his friend's blood, then the screams vanished, and silence prevailed.
What he saw next was a white skull without flesh, only white bones.
The wearer of the purple cloak bent slightly and said in a steady, fearless voice:
"I offer my respect to the leader of Nivaria."
That person was none other than Yoshiro, the leader of Nivaria, who had reached the third level.
Yoshiro smiled with his deep voice and said:
"I did not expect absorbing the Sorcerer's Empire would take this long. I wanted to do the same to the Old Kingdom but… I must be content with the Sorcerer's Empire.
As for you two, go — consider this knowledge the reason for your survival."
Yoshiro looked at the purple cloak wearer bent on the ground and said in a deep voice:
"Stop pretending to be afraid, Nokuro."
A large and terrifying smile appeared on Nokuro's face, his lips twisting unnaturally.
Nokuro stood. There was no need to pretend anymore.
When his pale face appeared and his blue eyes glistened beneath strands of thick gray hair,
Nokuro appeared as a twenty-year-old man. Yet he was the deputy leader of Nivaria and the second strongest after Yoshiro.
He was among the few who reached the fourth level, surpassing the concept of human power.
Nokuro said with narrowed eyes looking at Yoshiro:
"Your rise to level three this quickly is madness. What will you do now after the destruction of the Old Kingdom?"
Yoshiro answered Nokuro's question, born of deep curiosity:
"Nothing. I will do nothing but wait."
The strange smile disappeared from Nokuro's face as he thought of something strange:
"I doubt how the Old Kingdom was destroyed. Even if we assumed the cause was a ruler, rulers do not possess the power to kill the knight Eldovar."
Yoshiro's expression changed as he realized the reason for that.
"No matter how great Eldovar's power, it could not have saved the Old Kingdom entirely, especially from that person."
Nokuro was shocked by his leader's words. A foolish smile formed on Yoshiro's lips.
Yoshiro grasped his head with his hand, thinking of someone specific, then said in a soft sharp voice:
"I have now realized something important: the Old Kingdom searched for something they should not have sought. They searched for the most dangerous entity — the Samurai Ruler!"
At the same moment, elsewhere inside a wooden cabin.
Roku and Seiji sat on a comfortable sofa, and before them sat the old woman.
Since entering the cabin, which was beautiful inside, the old woman had kept a smile upon her face. She welcomed them warmly, yet Seiji could not feel reassured.
He had no logical reason in mind for her survival after such a massacre.
The old woman looked at them, still smiling, and said in her weak voice:
"You are not from here. Your clothes differ from those who live here."
Roku smiled faintly and said to her:
"Yes, we are from the Kagutsuchi Empire. We were sent to learn what happened in this kingdom."
The direction of her gaze changed, and her eyes fixed upon Seiji, who held the hilt of his sword.
At that moment, the smile vanished from her face, and a frightening rotting smell spread.
The veins in her hands stiffened, and part of her face darkened.
The place lost its shine, the air became suffocating, part of the cabin became dirty, and the green paint turned black. Then she said in a strong voice:
"If you are worried, why did you enter here? Do you feel this is fake and I led you here to kill you? Do not fear, I will not kill you — you are strong."
Seiji was shocked. He gripped his sword tightly, while Roku smiled knowingly that much would happen.
Upon hearing her words, Seiji hurriedly asked, his eyes tense with anger born of obvious mockery:
"I do not understand what you mean."
Her smile returned, but not as before — it was a terrifying smile. She closed her eyes, her face stiffened in the smile, then looked upward and said:
"If you want to understand what I mean, look beneath you."
At her words, Seiji looked quickly to the ground to see human bones placed there — skulls arranged in a circle around them, with other parts tied by rope.
Seiji realized the matter and thought:
"This old woman feeds on humans."
He quickly turned to see Roku's reaction. What he saw was that Roku showed no reaction, for he knew that what stood before them was not human.
A small flame emerged from Seiji's hand as he prepared to attack. The old woman pressed her cane, the wood beneath her feet cracking, and she said in a loud voice:
"Did you not hear the warning? Do not leave the city of Valemir at nightfall."
End of Chapter