As Marcellus and his team launched into urgent action toward the mountain cave, the atmosphere deep within the cave only grew more tense by the second.
Outside, the mysterious man stood under dim light, the smile on his face gradually fading. He had been patient, trying to win the trust of the mysterious woman inside with a calm tone and steady demeanor. But as each minute ticked by, unease began to coil within him like black vines. He knew all too well—prolonging the standoff would only increase the number of variables. And if there was one thing he detested most, it was unpredictability.
A flicker of coldness flashed in his eyes, but his voice remained gentle as he said, "Miss inside, how about I ask my friends to step away, and then we talk properly? Wouldn't that make you feel safer? I really just want to talk."
His tone was still soft, laced with a hint of goodwill and even a touch of helplessness. As he spoke, he slowly raised a hand and made a subtle gesture to the people behind him.
Will frowned slightly, his expression conflicted as he watched the mysterious man. As Eryx's plant, he was supposed to keep a close eye on this shifty and enigmatic ally. But at this point, everyone knew—dragging things out would only back Livia into a corner, yielding no real advantage. They couldn't storm the cave, and they couldn't pressure her from outside. Yet the woman still refused to give in, leaving them stuck in a deadlock.
After a moment's thought, Will finally nodded and muttered under his breath, "We'll be nearby. Don't try anything."
With that, he led several soldiers away. Their footsteps stirred dust on the cave floor, gradually disappearing around the bend into the murky shadows.
And at that moment, the mysterious man's expression finally shifted.
He rolled his neck slowly, a sharp crack echoing from his joints. Then, he extended both arms, and his fingers began to twist like snakes, each joint folding back on itself one by one. The unnatural contortions were enough to make one's skin crawl. Then his shoulders began to compress inward, as if some unseen force was compacting his entire frame. In a matter of seconds, his body shrank rapidly.
He exhaled slowly. His skin had gone pale, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, but his expression remained focused—as though he were conducting a precise ritual. When his form had been reduced to the size of a child's, he smiled faintly and lunged toward the narrow cave entrance.
The walls echoed with the sound of his elbows scraping against stone. His breathing was shallow, but his movements were swift and agile—like a beast on the hunt. With no help from others, relying solely on his grotesquely distorted body, he slipped into the tunnel with startling speed.
Inside the cave, Livia—or rather, Alia—was still inwardly relieved, believing the narrow passage would buy her precious time. She sat cross-legged deep in the cave, one hand gripping a shard of the Holy Grail wrapped in cloth, the other never leaving a torn scrap of cloth. Her eyes were sharp, brimming with vigilance and resolve.
But then, she heard it—a faint but piercing sound of bones grinding through stone. Her eyes widened in alarm.
Moments later, a pale, ghastly face slowly squeezed into her view.
It was a face warped by forcibly compressed bones—sunken eye sockets, twisted lips that stretched into something resembling a grin but radiated no warmth. It looked like a corpse freshly risen from the grave.
But worse than the sight was the recognition.
Her heart clenched. Her throat seemed to close, choking off her voice.
It wasn't Livia's fear.
It was Alia's. The Alia who had once been a battle-hardened thief, fearless in the face of any foe—she knew that face.
That face had lurked in the darkest corners of the black market in her previous life, slipping in and out of the vaults of the wealthy, killing without leaving a trace.
And now, that ghost had crawled into this suffocating space with her and the Holy Grail.
She gripped the shard in her hand with all her might, forcing herself to stay calm. But her fingers betrayed her, trembling uncontrollably.
—He wasn't just anyone. He never was.
He was her master.