After the meeting with Loken had concluded, I made my way south and found Reinhardt still waiting at the same desolate corner where we'd first arrived.
"I take it the negotiations were successful," Reinhardt said, turning around with a light b—he could sense me, even through the quiet hum of the dissipating shadows, as Wally disengaged and reformed beside me.
I took a slow breath, brushing dust from my sleeves.
"He made a mistake," I said, voice calm, almost reflective. "One born not from malice, but desperation. His subordinates weren't being paid—naturally, the wolves began to growl. And when wolves growl, leaders panic."
Reinhardt gave me a sideways glance, waiting for the real weight behind my words.
"I don't blame him, not entirely," I continued, stepping beside him. "But what irks me is the silence. He made a decision without so much as a whisper in my direction. That... I don't take lightly."
I paused, watching the distant skyline of Ravenia, the faint outline of towers silhouetted against a sky painted in eternal dusk.
"Still, he's useful. And in a city like Ravenia, where crime flows freer than wine and the northern districts drift beyond Mahoon jurisdiction, well... usefulness is a currency more valuable than loyalty. Especially when the people here are so beautifully susceptible to persuasion."
I gave a faint smile, half genuine, half amused.
"Now then," I said, "since our side business here is settled, let's turn our attention to the matter that brought us here—the cursed object holder. I want it captured by morning. There are tests I need to run once that's done. Let's move."
At my command, Reinhardt extended his hand. A small, inky pool formed beneath our feet—thick, black, and viscous, like the surface of a moonless lake. Within seconds, it widened and pulled us downward, swallowing us whole in utter silence.
The world dimmed as liquid shadow wrapped around us like a membranous cocoon. All that remained was the subtle distortion of ripples in the dark—a visual echo of our passage. Then, with the suddenness of a bullet leaving the chamber, we were hurled toward our destination at incredible speed.
Reinhardt's Mana Path was one of the rare Eight Property Paths—his, the Ink Path. Contrary to popular assumption, it shared no lineage with the Space Path. It didn't warp space or fold dimensions. Rather, due to Reinhardt's unique race, his version of the Ink Path manifested differently, imbued with racial-specific properties that allowed him to travel through shadows, provided he knew their coordinates.
It made him the most elusive assassin in all of Eden, and one of the most dependable transporters alive. But there was a trade-off. The Ink Path, unlike other Properties, dealt more in conceptual magic—fluid, imaginary, and abstract. While it granted tremendous mobility and stealth, it lacked structure. Spells were harder to replicate, and inventing new ones required sheer creativity laced with instinct rather than formula.
Even so, Reinhardt wielded it with the grace of a master calligrapher—every stroke, deliberate.
However, just as we neared Sylvia's location, a tremor pulsed through the liquid shadows around us. The once-smooth passage buckled and quaked, the bubble flickering like an unstable flame. Reinhardt faltered—his concentration slipping for the first time since we entered.
"What the hell?!" he hissed, voice rising toward panic as he took a quick glance behind us. "Why is that here—so close to the surface?!"
His eyes shot backward, widened in absolute horror. Every hair on his arms stood on end.
"A Voidspawn?!" I exclaimed, instinctively beginning to turn around.
But Reinhardt seized my shoulder with alarming force, yanking me forward.
"Don't look at it, young master!" he barked. "The moment your eyes lock on it… it nests inside your memory. A hatchling will burrow into your mind, claw its way out of the void, and devour you from the inside out!"
His grip tightened, forcing my gaze forward. My heart pounded—not from fear, but the sharpness of his voice, the kind that came from someone who knew what he was talking about. Someone who'd seen others die in unspeakable ways.
"Right…" I murmured, regaining composure. "I lost myself for a moment. Wally—support Reinhardt!"
Wally leapt from my shoulder without hesitation, fusing to Reinhardt's arm. A surge of energy followed, as Wally began channeling my Mana directly into him, bolstering the Ink Path's stability.
"Why now of all times?!" Reinhardt growled, voice taut with pressure. The Voidspawn was drawing closer. Even with Wally's support, its presence was starting to erode the edges of our shadow-bubble. The space around us wept black ink in droplets as if reality itself had started to bleed.
"It's weak to light, right?!" I shouted over the turbulence as the void around us buckled.
"Yes! But ordinary light won't slow it down — you'll need something stronger!" Reinhardt barked in return, his voice sharp with strain.
"That's all I needed to know."
I drew in a breath and focused, channeling energy into my palms. A radiant golden lotus began to bloom between my fingers, each petal casting a warm, defiant glow. The moment it stabilized, I released it — letting it drift backward, trailing luminous threads through the inkspace.
It wasn't bright enough to repel the Voidspawn… but it was just enough to delay it.
Barely.
The monstrous presence faltered for the briefest of seconds — and in that breath of reprieve, Reinhardt surged forward with renewed force. We broke through the veil of space, and the ink bubble burst like a soap film as we hit cold ground.
----------
Ravenia's Outskirts
----------
…Moments later, we found ourselves sprawled in the snow at the foot of a great mountain. A pale wind howled above us, and everything smelled of frost and ozone.
Wally and Sylvia were already there — the snow around us melted in a wide ring, no doubt by their combined effort.
As I sat up, Wally leapt from Sylvia's shoulder and returned to mine, warm and familiar.
"You ran into a Voidspawn?" Sylvia asked, her voice quiet but grave.
I nodded as I dusted frost from my clothes and stood, Reinhardt doing the same beside me.
"It's already begun," I said. "That cursed object… it doesn't just bring misfortune to others. It amplifies its own luck. Our encounter wasn't chance. It was attraction."
Reinhardt dropped to one knee, head bowed. "Young master, I'm terribly sorry. I never expected a Voidspawn to be swimming that close to the surface."
"It's not your fault," I said calmly, brushing him off with a wave of my hand. "Though… tell me, isn't it fascinating? There are creatures so wretched, so unanchored from anything resembling order… that to see them is a crime. A sin punished by birth — or by death, depending on your outlook. Makes you wonder, Reinhardt…"
I glanced up at the sky, still tinged with shadow.
"…are they invading our world, or have we simply strayed too far into theirs?"
Sylvia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You just survived a direct encounter with a Voidspawn. Could you please — for once — show a shred of concern for your own well-being instead of being fascinated by the damn thing?"
"What's the point of living a dull life like that? I'd rather die like this—wild, unexpected—than waste away as some man clinging to routine," I laughed, brushing snow from my shoulders as Reinhardt rose to his feet.
"Don't use your teleportation spell for a while," I added, glancing at him. "I doubt our misfortune will vanish so easily… but at the very least, you won't be inviting that thing back again."
"Where's Grunthar?" I asked, suddenly noticing his absence.
"Summoning ghosts, apparently," Sylvia replied. "He said the locals were helping him. Something about razing the mountain the cursed object resides in."
"…He what?" Reinhardt said, stunned. "That was absolutely not my idea."
"Nor mine," I muttered, equally baffled. "Who the hell told him that was a good plan?"
We all fell silent for a moment. An eerie sense of wrongness crawled over us.
"Exactly where did he tell you this?" I asked.
"He came here. Alone. Said it before heading back to the locals," Sylvia answered, her brows now furrowed.
"There aren't any tribes within a two-hundred-kilometer radius," Wally cut in, sharp and cold. "All the tribes are settled at the eastern and western fringes of Ravenia."
The realization struck like a falling blade. He'd been tricked.
Sylvia immediately pointed off into the distance. No time to waste.
Without hesitation, I activated my ability, seized both Reinhardt and Sylvia by the collar, and sprinted toward the direction she indicated — the air warping around us as I tore through the snow-draped terrain.
I had dismantled Grunthar's formations once before. Even if his mind had been twisted or tampered with, I'd know how to dismantle them again — especially with Reinhardt at my side. But if he managed to summon a great ghost... one strong enough to rival an A-rank?
The mission would end in failure before it even began.