Their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
"A Rank 3 Spirit owned by a Rank 4 Masterer? That is only possible in fairytales! No... surely he has concealed his true rank!"
Everyone instantly grew wary of Monir. If Monir were indeed the spy or the traitor, and he possessed a Rank 3 Spirit—none of them would be able to stop him. Unless they had a specific ritual or sheer luck on their side, their death was a certainty.
The difference in rank was akin to the difference between a flat plain and a towering mountain. A Rank 3 Master accompanied by a Rank 3 Spirit could effortlessly handle five Rank 4 Masters.
Legends speak of warriors who, even at Rank 2, single-handedly annihilated vast armies of Rank 3 or 4. As one approaches Rank 1, the power becomes increasingly unimaginable and terrifying.
Rank 1 Masters are rulers soaring above the clouds; to some, they are gods, to others, eternal monsters.
But Monir laughed.
"Do not worry, I am not a spy. I haven't sold any information. This Spirit's name is the 'Silent-Hunter Cat Spirit'. I accidentally discovered it inside a sealed ice crystal near the Cursed Valley."
Everyone fixed a deep gaze upon that Rank 3 Dark-path Spirit.
The cat was sleeping, but with so many eyes upon it, it awoke. It opened its deep black eyes and looked at everyone. It seemed pleased to see them.
It opened its mouth, but no sound came out.
...Hiss...!
Only an ethereal vibration rippled through the air. Ordinary ears lacked the capacity to hear its call.
It began to float silently, circling around them.
In size, it was equal to a grown man's hand. Its entire body was covered in grey-black fur, with purple, snake-like patterns drawn across its nose and cheeks.
Its four paws were shrouded in a faint purple aura. Its ears and tail were ash-black, burning with a kind of black fire—as if they had been burning for eternity.
Mansi Delal was struck speechless. For a long time, he could not utter a sound.
He thought to himself, "He was right... today truly is Doomsday."
Habib Biswas broke the silence with a counter-smile. He was an experienced man; he understood why Monir had suddenly revealed this trump card.
"Good, very good. Now we have the power to strike back. With such power in Lord Monir Chaprashe's hands, we can fight them. At least we will buy the time to act as we please. With this 'Silent-Hunter Cat Spirit' involved with us, they cannot simply attack us on a whim."
Monir smiled and looked at Habib. The two exchanged warm smiles, but everyone understood the deep meaning behind them.
Mansi Delal felt paralyzed. He had some past trauma involving a Rank 3 Spirit. His limbs were going numb.
Trying to normalize his expression, he said, "I... I need to go to the washroom."
Sukumar smiled slightly and said, "Come back quickly, Mansi. Otherwise, we will leave without you."
Suddenly, Mansi felt a snag.
"Sukumar's behavior isn't like this! He doesn't usually speak in such a friendly or warm tone. In the last fifteen years, I haven't seen him this kind."
Mansi smiled as he left the room, but suspicion crystallized in his mind.
"Do they suspect me? No... that cannot be..."
Under the pretense of visiting the washroom, Mansi Delal slipped away. But his destination was not the restroom.He moved with swift, calculated steps, detour through the Fusion Chamber and the Treasury.
His sharp eyes scanned every detail, burning the secrets of the hideout into his memory.
He realized a terrifying truth—this place was not beneath the Biswas Palace.
Habib Biswas had either used a special 'Disorientation Ritual' or relied on the power of this 700-year-old Sealed Legacy to twist their sense of direction and time.
Although he couldn't pinpoint the exact location or depth underground, he noted everything: a subterranean palace consisting of a massive Main Hall and three smaller chambers.
Inside, he saw mysterious artifacts, documents written in ancient scripts no one could decipher, and rare biological specimens of magical beasts—all ingredients for forbidden fusion.
He finished his mental notes and scribbled them hastily onto a piece of paper.
Then, he summoned a special Spirit from his 'Soul Realm'.
It looked like a small sparrow. But from its jerky movements, it was clear that Mansi was not its true master; he was merely a conduit.
He rolled up the paper and fed it to the bird. The spirit swallowed the message whole.
"Go... deliver this to the Lord. Immediately," Mansi whispered.
The bird flapped its wings and shot into the darkness of the long tunnel through which they had arrived.
Mansi breathed a sigh of relief and turned back.
At that exact moment—
SWISH!
From the pitch-black depths of the tunnel, a shadow launched itself like an arrow.
It made no sound.
The shadow pierced through the sparrow's body like a spear. The bird didn't even have time to chirp; it disintegrated into ash upon impact.
But the shadow didn't stop.
From within the debris of the destroyed spirit, the shadow reformed itself. It birthed a new bird—identical in appearance to the first, but its feathers were woven from pure darkness, and invisible stains of blood clung to its form.
Mansi glanced back over his shoulder.
He saw 'his' bird flying past the flickering torches, disappearing into the darkness beyond. He smiled, satisfied. He had no idea that his message had just been hijacked by the void.
Ten minutes later.
When Mansi Delal returned to the Research Room, the atmosphere had shifted.
The air was heavy, suffocating. Terror was etched onto the faces of the other Elders. Even Monir Chaprashe, who usually wore a mask of indifference, was no longer smiling.
Mansi's heart skipped a beat. He prayed silently,
"O Goddess, let the danger not be about me. Just one more day... today my first child will be born. After 49 years of waiting, I am finally going to be a father. I took this risk only for my family."
He composed himself and sat in his chair. He forced a sincere smile onto his face.
"Ah... I feel a bit more relaxed now."
Then, looking at the terrified faces around him, he asked curiously, "Wh... what happened? Why are you all so silent?"
The others tried to force smiles but failed miserably.
Suddenly, a mysterious grin appeared on Monir's face.
"Nothing in particular. But tell me, Mansi... do you know what my 'Silent-Hunter Cat Spirit' can actually do?"
Everyone looked at Mansi, then turned their gaze to Monir.
Monir stroked the fur of the cat spirit resting on his shoulder.
"As its name suggests, it hunts in silence. The only sound you hear is the blood gushing from the enemy's body. From start to finish, not a single drop of 'Aura' leaks from its body. Only when it launches its main attack—'Silent Slash'—does its true nature reveal itself..."
Monir paused. His eyes glowed with malice.
"...Four terrifying blades emerge. Blades capable of slicing a defenseless human into four equal pieces."
Everyone gasped. Mansi trembled inwardly.
He stammered, "Why... why are you telling me this now, Monir? What are your true intentions?"
Mansi looked at Monir. The cat was still perched on his shoulder, its tail flicking lazily.
Mansi closed his eyes, thinking rapidly.
"Maybe they are just terrified hearing about the power of a Rank 3 Spirit. Or maybe they can't find a way out of this predicament. But... if this is about the spy? Then..."
Sweat beaded on Mansi's forehead. He opened his eyes in fear, intending to look at the dangerous Dark Path Spirit once more.
But when he looked at Monir's shoulder, his eyes widened in horror.
The cat was gone.
And what terrified him the most was the grin on Monir's face. It was no longer a smile; it was a predator baring its fangs.
Mansi wanted to scream. His subconscious screamed at danger, trying to summon his 'Defensive Spirit'.
But it was too late.
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
Out of thin air, faster than imagination, four terrifying purple blades rushed toward Mansi.
In an instant, the room was bathed in a blinding dark purple radiance. The magnificent glow drowned out the light of the torches.
Mansi blinked.
He heard nothing but the ghostly sound of the air being sliced near his ears. Budding noise...
BOOM!
The four blades passed through Mansi's body and slammed into the wall behind him.
The wall was not ordinary stone; it was reinforced with magic. But the blades sliced through it like butter, cutting through the steel almirah behind it, and embedding themselves deep into the earth's crust.
Four smooth, glowing purple fissures appeared on the wall, as if the very foundation of the world had been severed.
Mansi tried to stand up.
"I must summon my defense..." he thought.
But his body did not rise.
Confused, he looked down at himself.
He saw his torso—from the waist up—was upright.
But his legs... were still sitting on the chair.
Before his brain could process the impossibility of the sight—
The pain hit.
"AAAGHHH!"
The scream died in his throat. A glob of blood gushed from his mouth.
Simultaneously, fountains of crimson erupted from the four severed sections of his body.
Like a master butcher slicing meat with surgical precision, Mansi's body and the stone chair had been sliced smoothly into pieces.
Instantly, the metallic smell of fresh blood filled the room.
Foysal Ahmed shook with uncontrollable fear. A whisper escaped his trembling lips,
"Just a single attack from Rank 3! Just one!"
The limbless torso of Mansi fell to the floor with a wet thud. He was still alive. His eyes stared fixedly at the ceiling. It was impossible to tell if the emotion in them was fear, joy, or infinite sorrow.
Perhaps, in his final moment, the face of his unborn child flashed in his memory one last time.
Monir Chaprashee walked forward. He looked down at Mansi's severed head and spoke with cold finality.
"To think... Mansi! You were the first founder of this faction... and today, you are its greatest traitor!"