Sebastian's eyes widened.
"How did you stop the sigil, boy?!"
Vivan smirked, his boots clicking against the silent veil as he advanced. Blue lightning licked along his blade, each step echoing like a drumbeat of defiance.
"This isn't my first rodeo." He tilted his sword so the tip hovered at Sebastian's throat. "Tell me- how many fangs does your Serpent have, to throw one away so easily?"
But Sebastian wasn't prey.
In a flash, he twisted low, leg sweeping at Vivan's ankle. Vivan leapt over the strike, and in that breath of space Sebastian rolled, reclaiming his kodachis with practiced grace.
"You can still dance, huh?" Vivan muttered, tightening his grip on the hilt.
A smirk curled Sebastian's lips. His voice fell into a guttural chant, each syllable pulling the air into writhing spirals of green. The veil itself seemed to pulse with the rhythm.
"If you think you can take down one of the Four Fangs so easily…" His eyes glowed with fury. "You're the naive one!"
The spirals snapped. Spears of emerald wind exploded outward in dozens, screaming as they tore through the veil.
"Heaven's Thrust!"
Vivan's memory flashed- the Death March. His grin twisted. "Not again…"
He spun aside as the first lances ripped past, the pressure scorching his cheek.
His sword flicked, deflecting two into the void. CodeBreaker flared, unraveling five more mid-flight.
A brutal clash of steel met the tenth spear, sparks bursting as he parried it inches from his spine.
Still the storm raged.
Howling spears filled the veil, each thrust faster, sharper, deadlier. And Vivan- smiling through clenched teeth- moved with them, dancing step by step closer to Sebastian.
The First Fang's mastery revealed its true form.
Sebastian's eyes gleamed, and the veil howled.
Dozens of spirals churned into existence across the void, each spinning faster than sight could follow.
From them, emerald spears were born in endless volleys, whistling like a storm of arrows.
But the real horror came when the spirals collided. Their grinding edges shrieked, and from the friction burst violent sparks of green lightning.
The sparks twisted, lengthened, coiled- becoming serpents woven of stormlight, their jaws crackling with venomous fury.
The air shook with dual calamities: wind spears cutting from every angle, lightning serpents weaving between them.
Vivan dodged a lightning serpent by a hair's breadth. It slammed into the ground where he had stood, scorching the stone into a sickly dark green.
Poisonous bubbles hissed up from the wound in the earth, drifting before popping in the air.
"Those lightning serpents… they're venomous too?" he muttered, eyes widening.
Vivan's eyes widened.
"Even in Grimveil, it took five mages to weave elements together. And he's doing it- alone?"
Dodging wasn't enough. CodeBreaker's cast-time couldn't keep pace with the storm.
So Vivan threw himself into motion, weaving martial instinct with system skill: twisting past the first spear, sliding beneath a serpent's venomous arc, his blade shattering two more projectiles before spinning into a roll that carried him forward.
The veil screamed around him, spears hissing, serpents striking, venom arcing through the air like spit from a thousand fangs.
Yet step by step, Vivan forced his way closer to the assassin at their center.
One thought anchored his grin:
"Those Grimveil magicians had infinite MP to burn… Let's see how long your mana can hold, First Fang."
While Vivan was locked in battle with Sebastian, the royal archives of Novarim Castle echoed with lonely footsteps.
Tap… tap… tap…
A wavering candlelight flickered near the southern racks, illuminating a carved inscription: Forbidden Section.
Minister Hollowart's shadow stretched across the shelves as his hands rifled hurriedly through rows of ancient tomes. At last, he pulled free a worn record from the third shelf.
History of Novarim and Clevon, the cover read.
The brittle pages whispered as he flipped them beneath the candle's glow. Words spilled into the silence:
The first king of Novarim, Lumos Dracorus Novarim, was faltering before the greatest monster march in history.
The citizens lived in shelters, the world drowned in chaos as monsters swarmed the towns.
In those desperate days, a young woman named Marciella Pristine came before the king with a plan to halt the march.
With her aid, Lumos shielded Novarim's people, and peace returned- if only briefly.
Hollowart's eyes narrowed as he turned the next page.
On a wintry night, Marciella returned to the king's chamber, a newborn child in her arms along with a letter. Then she left the baby and the letter with Lumos.
As her silhouette slowly faded into darkness tears rolled down from the king's eyes.
That same night, Queen Aurelia of Novarim labored to give birth to heir of Lumos.
Marciella's words bled through the chill of the night:
"My king, I am betrothed to Gabriel Clevon, and this child could destroy my future. I entrust him to you."
Hollowart's breath caught. But before he could trace the faded ink further, a sound cut through the silence.
Tap… tap…
Footsteps. Slow. Drawn out. Drawing closer from behind.
The minister stiffened. The candle's flame trembled.
Then the steps ceased and a steel-edged voice sliced the air.
"What are you doing in the Forbidden Section of the royal archives, Minister Hollowart?"
Hollowart froze. His pulse hammered, but he schooled his face, forcing his features calm. He knew that voice.
Samuel. Head Captain of the Royal Guard.
Swallowing his panic, Hollowart slid the tome shut and turned slowly, a faint smile curving his lips. His reply came smooth, measured, a blade wrapped in silk.
"I am the minister of this city. I may go where I please, when I please. But tell me- what are you doing here at such an hour, Captain?"
Samuel's reply came cold, steady.
"I am the Head Captain, sir. After all, it is my duty to safeguard the castle's defence- even at this hour."
Hollowart's smile sharpened, his tone carrying a quiet sting.
"Well, Captain, with your growing rumours… I suggest you choose wisely what you guard, and where you spend your hours."
As the tension grew in the royal archives the steel rang as the veil roared back into focus.
Sebastian pressed forward, his kodachis whirling with the rhythm of the spirals, each slash echoing the fury of wind and venom.
Serpents hissed overhead, spears shrieked through the void but Vivan no longer stumbled in their storm.
His breath steadied. His eyes sharpened.
Patterns. That was the key. The First Fang's attacks weren't chaos—they were rhythm, code repeating inside the veil.
The first serpent always struck wide.
The second followed with a curve from above.
The third- timed with a spear's shriek angled for the blind spot at his spine.
And once he saw it, he moved with it.
Vivan twisted, letting the serpent's fangs graze empty air.
His blade met the spear in a clash of sparks, deflecting it into another serpent mid-strike. Venom burst harmlessly in the void as both attacks cancelled each other out.
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Hoh…?"
Vivan's grin widened. Lightning crawled brighter along his sword, every arc answering the storm around him.
Step by step, he advanced- not dodging desperately anymore, but forcing the spears and serpents to crash against each other.
CodeBreaker pulsed at his side, unraveling just enough attacks to carve a path forward.
For the first time, Sebastian's footing faltered.
"Impossible…" the assassin hissed, his grin fading into something sharper, darker.
Vivan's voice cut through the storm, sharp and mocking.
"Naive, huh? Looks like the only one dancing here is you."
The veil screamed again, but this time Vivan's stride didn't break.
Lightning and poison clashed around him, and at the heart of the storm he raised his blade high, aiming straight for the First Fang, as the blue lightning flickered violently around his blade.
"Arcane Strike!" Vivan shouted.
His beginner's sword pulsed with raw power and carved across Sebastian's chest. The impact split the veil with a thunderclap.
Sebastian's eyes widened and then blood sprayed, dark and heavy, spilling like broken ink. His body crashed to the ground in a twisted sprawl.
From his neck, a pendant snapped free, clattering against the stone floor. Its chain coiled beside him as the jewel gleamed faintly.
The Pendant of Amionisa.
The veil shuddered, fractures spiderwebbing across its walls. Cracks split wider, and through them the outside world bled in torchlight, stone, the distant clamor of Novarim returning.
Vivan stepped through the falling storm, boots crunching against shards of fading energy.
Sebastian's body lay crumpled before him, blood pooling dark beneath the assassin's chest. His breath still rasped- ragged, shallow, but alive.
Kneeling, Vivan pressed his palm to Sebastian's head. Glyphs flared alive along his right arm, the intricate glyphs of the Sigilforge burning with sharp, blue light.
A cold grin touched his lips.
"It's a good opportunity," he murmured, voice low. "To put a better mole in the Serpent's crew."
His hand tightened. The glyphs pulsed brighter, lightning crawling across Sebastian's skin.
"Recode!"
[System Chime]
+50 Int for turning a strong enemy to a mole +100 empathy for not killing the life threatening enemy.
The veil shattered completely.
The world of Novarim bled back into view - the silvered market streets, the lantern-lit stalls of the Whispering Saffron, and the quiet glow of moonlight washing over stone and steel.
Sebastian stirred, staggering to his feet. His wounds still bled, but his eyes were no longer sharp with fury. They glimmered faintly blue, like code rewritten and bound.
Vivan met his gaze, voice low and commanding.
"Now go. Fetch me information, my mole."
The assassin said nothing. He simply turned, each step mechanical, and began walking south. His silhouette thinned in the silver light until it seemed to dissolve.
The Eye of Veritas flickered across Vivan's vision, confirming what he already knew.
Sebastian's frame shimmered with blue glyphs, his code rewritten, his status stripped of will.
An NPC.
Vivan exhaled, tension loosening from his grip at last. But before he could move, a voice drifted from the side. Familiar. Warm.
"What is happening, GhostWalker? I saw you walking toward my shop… then you vanished. And that man—who was he?"
Vivan stiffened.
That voice belonged to the shopkeeper of the Whispering Saffron, the boutique lady who had greeted him a hundred times before. A voice rooted in the market's everyday rhythm.
He kept his eyes fixed on the south, where Sebastian had vanished, not answering immediately. His tone came casual, dismissive.
"Nothing. Just some nuts."
At last, he turned to her with a faint smile.
And froze.
Her form rippled under the moonlight. Golden code pulsed through her body in faint waves, like veins of fire beneath skin.
She wasn't watching him- her eyes were locked on the path Sebastian had taken, the same cold focus mirrored in her gaze.
The smile died on Vivan's lips. His pulse quickened.
The Whispering Saffron was no ordinary shop.
And its keeper… no ordinary woman.
…To be continued