Confusion. Betrayal. Dread.
He wasn't asking.
He was declaring.
"…Is he robbing us?" A whisper, brittle and unbelieving.
"He's not one of us."
Adam stepped forward—young, angry, trembling with pride and fear.
He climbed the stairs slowly, like he thought it gave him authority.
"Who the hell are you to stop us?" he barked.
"We're going home, not handing over our hard-earned spells to some lunatic in a mask!"
"Who are you to stop us? We survived this hell—we're not handing over anything!"
Elara reached for him. "Adam, don't—"
But he jerked free, his voice rising with arrogant defiance.
"You think wearing a mask makes you—"
He didn't finish.
Kael moved.
Dreamweaver flashed in a clean, merciless arc.
A wet sound—soft, almost polite.
Adam's head left his shoulders before his next breath.
His body staggered forward, took three steps.
Then stopped.
His head rolled to the base of the stairs, eyes still wide in disbelief, mouth still shaped around the word you.
He turned, as if trying to see who had done it.
But his body no longer obeyed.
Kael exhaled through his mask, a sigh—not regretful, but final.
'Promise complete.'
And then the screaming began.
Raw. Panicked. Real.
Blood pooled at Kael's feet.
The rift still shimmered behind him.
But no one rushed toward it now.
***
Soon, it was like a ritual of grief.
One by one, the survivors stood—sobbing quietly, cursing the gods, themselves, and the day they ever stepped into this cursed place.
Trembling hands wrote out their most powerful spells onto scrolls.
Relics of survival. Sacrifices.
They handed them over—to the devil standing silently before the rift, red mask gleaming, blood still drying on his blade.
Elara stepped forward. She exhaled, sharp and bitter, then pressed her scroll into his hand.
"I hope," she said, quietly, "you won't regret this."
The devil—Kael—tilted his head.
"I won't."
Her jaw clenched. She passed through the rift without another word.
The others followed, reluctant, fearful. Not one of them met his gaze.
At last, only Selene remained.
She didn't move.
Kael's masked face turned toward her.
"…Why aren't you leaving?"
Her lips trembled. "My friend… he's still here."
Kael was quiet for a moment. Then, with a voice like iron cooling, he said,
"I think he's already gone. I saw that guy—what was his name… Kaelion, right?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You know him?"
A beat.
'Of course', he thought.
But he only replied, "No."
Then nothing more.
She stared at him—awkward, unsettled—and finally gave a faint nod.
"Thank you."
She stepped through the rift and vanished.
Kael exhaled slowly, the sound muffled behind his mask.
He glanced down at the scrolls in his hands—eleven in total. Eleven powerful spells, wrested from fear and desperation.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
'Worth it.'
His dream of collecting the strongest spells in existence—once a mad ambition—now felt closer than ever.
Yeah, he's not exactly all there mentally right now
With a practiced motion, he untied the red demonic mask and fastened it to his belt, letting it hang like a grim trophy. Then he flipped his coat back to its original side, concealing his silhouette once more.
But the blood stains remained. Smears, splatters—some dried, some still wet.
He shuddered slightly. Not from guilt.
From exhaustion.
I barely made it out alive…
He tucked the scrolls carefully inside the inner lining of his coat, each one sliding into its hidden pocket like a secret blade.
Then he turned, ready to leave.
But he paused.
One last look at the dark deity's statue—tall, terrible, unmoving. Even now, with the battle long over, it radiated menace. A frozen god of nightmares.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
And then he saw it.
Near the statue's base—half-hidden by broken stone and scorched dust—something black.
Shining.
Subtle. Quiet. As if it had waited.
Waiting just for him.
Kael got curious earlier when I lifted that lantern to throw—it completely slipped his notice until now.
His gaze fixed on the black, shining object near the statue's base.
Slowly, he stepped closer, reaching out.
Just as his fingers were about to brush it—
"You're dead!"
Yue's voice exploded from nowhere, making Kael jump as if he'd been beaten like a mangy dog.
He stumbled back, heart pounding.
Yue laughed.
"Hahahaha"
"Geez, you looked like you saw a ghost."
Kael wiped sweat from his brow, glaring.
"You were really a ghost."
Yue smirked, shrugging casually.
"Yeah, well—"
But Kael cut her off, voice firm.
"Yue, never gonna do that, please."
She looked awkward, stumbling over her words.
"Umm, yeah, but tha—"
He cut her off firmly, voice low and serious:
"No means no. My heart went straight to my throat, you know."
A heavy silence hung between them before she let out a reluctant laugh.
Kael's eyes narrowed as he approached her.
"Where have you been?"
She glanced away, voice low and clipped.
"I just wanted to finish some unfinished business."
She didn't explain further.
Kael didn't press.
He knew better than to be hasty.
With time, she would open up on her own.
After all, their souls were bound—connected beyond choice.
She couldn't betray him.
Their bond was like master and slave, but Kael didn't want her to feel like she was a slave.
He feared she might take desperate measures otherwise.
So instead, he asked quietly, "Do you know what that thing is?"
She studied the black object with a puzzled frown.
"Don't know."
Kael reached out and touched the black, shining object.
Suddenly, a system ring chimed inside his mind, cold and mechanical.
[Do you want to use Rank 1: Beast Taming Card?]
He froze, dumbfounded.
'What…?'