On the upper floor of the palace, within the corridors of memory and blood, the ghostly knight continued his battle.
The copies of the man in green clothing fell one after another.
"Kaaaaang!!"
The knight's sword collided with the shield of one of the copies, splitting it in half, followed by a swift slash that cleaved its body as if it were made of glass!
Two down... gone.
The third tried to flank him, but the knight spun around, striking her shoulder joint and disarming her before delivering a powerful kick that sent her crashing into the wall, motionless.
He moved in silence, with the weight of a man who had fought countless battles—as if he had been accustomed to bloodshed since ancient times.
...
But on the ground floor… deep within the palace, where the darkness was older than the walls, two men gathered in a damp chamber drowned in blackness.
The first was a man with a face disfigured by burns, his unblinking eyes dripping with fury from every edge of his body.
The second wore a rusted pig mask that completely concealed his features, revealing nothing of his true appearance.
They sat facing each other, surrounded by glowing magical sigils carved into the floor.
The disfigured man spoke in a hoarse voice:
"Not much longer… that immense power radiating from that child… it will be enough."
The masked man slowly shook his head:
"Yes… we've gathered many souls, but his energy alone… surpasses them all."
"Finally…"
The disfigured man clenched his fist and whispered.
"We will be able to carry out our revenge… against that angel… who destroyed our homeland."
...
A brief silence.
Then the masked man lifted his gaze:
"Now... all we need is… to capture the child."
...
As the two men exchanged hateful glances, the entire palace trembled above them.
A burst of blue light, followed by a metallic scream from above.
...
The disfigured man smiled, then muttered in a vile tone:
"But first… we must deal with the old guardian."
In the abandoned kitchen of the palace, the windows were coated in dust, and the drawers hung open as if they had screamed for help years ago…
Jonathan sat on the floor, holding Lina and Emma's hands, his eyes fixed on the old wooden door.
A moment of silence passed.
Then he whispered:
"Will the others be okay?"
Emma lifted her head, forcing a weak smile despite her tension:
"Don't worry… the man in green doesn't harm them directly. They… gather children for a certain reason, energy or something else."
Lina tightened her grip on Jonathan's hand, her voice tinged with worry:
"I'm scared of that knight who appeared suddenly… when you and the white cat entered."
"Yes, I felt him."
Emma closed her eyes briefly.
"His energy… wasn't with us before. But now it's back. I can sense it clearly. It seems… he has returned."
...
Jonathan turned his gaze upward, as if trying to see through the walls:
"If the knight is back… then Maomao must be back too, right? They both entered that mirror together."
His eyes shimmered with hope.
He didn't know much, but he trusted that Maomao wouldn't abandon him.
...
But suddenly—
"Tap… tap… tap…"
Heavy, deliberate footsteps…
Approached the hallway leading to the kitchen.
Each step sounded as if it scorched the ground.
Lina quickly looked at the door and swallowed hard.
"No… impossible—"
A long shadow began to stretch beneath the door.
Emma felt her body freeze.
"It's him… the disfigured man."
...
Jonathan tightened his grip on their hands, his eyes locked on the trembling door.
The door hadn't opened yet… but the air itself had shifted.
Danger… was moments away.
The creak of the decaying door filled the room—
The disfigured man pushed it open slowly, his one remaining eye gleaming with a faint red light.
But the kitchen… was empty.
The dull floor, the broken tables—everything was as it should be. No trace of any child.
"Hiding is pointless…"
His voice was thick, laced with eerie calm.
"I can feel it… that child's energy leaking from the walls."
A moment of silence.
Then suddenly—the old pantry in the corner creaked open, and three children stepped out.
Jonathan, Lina, and Emma.
Their breaths were ragged… their foreheads slick with sweat.
The disfigured man smiled—or at least tried to. His ruined face only allowed a twisted smirk.
"Ah… Lina. I've always admired your ability to phase through objects. But I know… your limit is three times."
He raised three burned fingers.
"And you've used them all, haven't you?"
Lina took half a step back, then glanced at Jonathan.
She whispered:
"Don't run… I'll do something. Just stay close to me."
But—
Emma stepped forward, placing herself between the disfigured man and the children.
"You're forgotten… and you think we're weak?"
The air around her dried, her body radiating a vibrant green energy.
She raised her arms and lunged at him, trying to strike with all her magical strength.
But—
"Crk!!"
The disfigured man caught her wrist with a single hand, as if she weighed nothing.
"This… is all you have?"
Then he flung her aside, sending her crashing into the back wall before collapsing to the ground.
"Playtime is over."
He took slow, heavy steps toward Jonathan and Lina.
Each step felt like a slap to their trembling hearts.
Jonathan clutched Lina's hand, his eyes shaking.
But then—