At dawn, a fiery red hue had already emerged from the darkness in the east.
Click!
The massive temple doors of the conference hall creaked open slightly before two figures stepped out.
Leading the way was a black-haired boy, his youthful face clouded with irritation and frustration. Each step he took seemed heavier than necessary, leaving faint impressions on the solid stone floor beneath him.
A suffocating pressure radiated from his body.
Trailing behind him was a young girl wrapped in a white priest's robe, her light silver hair slightly disheveled beneath the loose hood. Her face, weary and pale, bore the exhaustion of being roused in the middle of the night—compounded by the repeated use of large-scale spells and the loss of a comrade.
"Captain, I'll be heading back first," the Astrologer murmured as she closed the temple doors behind her.
She knew exactly why the captain was in a foul mood.
By now, Quaiesse's location and cause of death had been thoroughly confirmed, yet it had taken them until dawn to leave the conference hall. The reason was obvious—the High Priest and the Six Cardinals had no intention of sending out the [Black Scripture] for retaliation.
The Astrologer speculated that hours ago, before the meeting had even concluded, the [Sunlight Scripture] or the [Clearwater Scripture]—the scripture specializing in covert operations and intelligence gathering—had already been dispatched.
Moreover, the church had abandoned Quaiesse entirely.
The entire meeting had revolved around a singular issue: the likelihood that Quaiesse, upon resurrection, could expose critical information about the Church.
Or worse—
The enemy's very act of resurrecting Quaiesse might have been a deliberate ploy against the church.
The reasoning was simple: despite all her attempts, the Astrologer had failed to detect the enemy who had killed Quaiesse. There were many possible explanations, but the most likely conclusion was clear—whoever they were, they had deliberately used anti-detection measures.
A faint headache crept up her temples as she glanced at the tightly shut doors behind her.
The Cardinals were likely still inside, reviewing every detail Quaiesse knew and determining what adjustments needed to be made.
At least I don't have to handle that mess.
That thought brought her a small sense of relief.
The only bit of good news? The enemy didn't seem overwhelmingly powerful. If they were, they wouldn't have resorted to such indirect tactics.
"Yeah, alright," the black-haired young man finally responded. He halted for a moment, forcing an awkward smile onto his displeased face before nodding.
As captain of the [Black Scripture], he was familiar with the general abilities of his subordinates, even if he didn't know every minor detail.
Frankly, none of them were particularly strong. He could take them all down single-handedly if he wanted.
Quaiesse was the only one he found remotely tolerable—not because of his strength, but because he had been useful in temporarily managing the [Black Scripture] in his stead.
That was the sole reason the captain had sought out the Cardinal in the first place—to let [Astrologer Thousand Miles] track down and pinpoint the exact location where Quaiesse had died.
Yet, instead of swift action, he had been stalled by a group of old men for hours. And now, they wouldn't even let him move, citing concerns about a "Dragon King" in the Azerlisia Mountains.
Dragon King?
So what?!
The Astrologer, sensing the captain's growing irritation, gave a slight bow and quickly excused herself.
As she stepped outside the temple, a blonde figure was already waiting.
A tall woman with golden hair and a sharp, knowing smile stood with arms crossed, watching her expectantly.
9th Seat: The Wind Breaker.
"Yo, silver-haired princess," the blonde woman greeted, her grin widening. "I heard my dear little brother died."
Great. Another pain in the ass.
"Condolences," the Astrologer responded flatly before making her exit.
But the blonde woman wasn't done. She strode forward with a chuckle, flashing a set of perfectly white teeth.
"Come on, tell me—how'd he die?"
By the time the black-haired young man had forced his emotions back under control and stepped outside, the sun had fully risen over the horizon.
Then—
He froze.
A shadow flickered before him, appearing in what had been an empty space just moments ago.
It was a girl.
But her appearance was… unusual.
Half of her hair was silver, the other half black. Her eyes mirrored the contrast—one a piercing silver, the other a deep abyssal black.
She looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, yet her presence was suffocating.
Draped in dark robes, she carried a weapon resembling a scythe fused with a cross-shaped spear, its ominous edge reflecting the morning light.
Her expression was utterly indifferent.
Not cold, not hostile—just empty.
Apathy, so pure it was unsettling.
And yet, simply standing there, she exuded a presence so heavy, it was as if she devoured the very air
The girl before him wasn't truly fifteen or sixteen years old. The black-haired young man knew that much.
In his memory, her appearance had never changed—not once.
A thought flashed through his mind, and his irritation found an outlet. He suddenly let out a laugh.
"Do you want to fight me?"
The silver-black-haired girl tilted her head slightly, her expression as impassive as ever.
"Alright," she replied, the corners of her lips curling ever so faintly.
Five Days LaterLava Fields
A team of about fifty people moved cautiously through the scorching terrain. They were clad in simple gray-blue robes, their faces concealed behind veils. Their silence was heavy, their movements mechanical—like eating and sleeping, a matter of routine.
"Captain, this is the last known location of Quaiesse before he disappeared," one of the members reported, exhaling a sharp breath of relief.
The heat here was unbearable, even for them. Their layered clothing made it worse, suffocating their bodies under the relentless waves of heat.
"Collective Enhancement: Fire Attribute Resistance," the captain of the Sunlight Scripture murmured, tapping his forehead as he raised his hands.
A soft red glow pulsed through the air, enveloping every member of the group. Instantly, the stifling heat around them lessened.
"Search the area!"
With a single wave of his hand, the captain commanded his subordinates. Immediately, magic flared as the team got to work.
"Residual magic detected!"
"Signs of battle present!"
"Traces of religious magic!"
"Evidence of a massive creature!"
"..."
"No survivors."
Reports poured in one after another, each one concise and direct.
Behind his veil, the captain of the Sunlight Scripture frowned.
Most of the findings were expected, but that last report—"No survivors." That unsettled him.
"Captain," the vice-captain stepped forward, organizing the scattered information. "Based on the traces left behind, it appears that Quaiesse's attackers were two individuals—one a magic caster of the faith-based discipline, the other a warrior."
The captain wasn't particularly surprised by this conclusion.
After all, he was one of the elite forces under the Six Scriptures, and everyone who qualified for [Black Scripture] was an exceptional powerhouse.
Quaiesse, in particular, was skilled in group combat. It was highly unlikely that a single person could have taken him down alone.
"The evidence suggests that after killing Quaiesse, these two individuals were subsequently attacked by a massive creature," the vice-captain continued, his voice steady and emotionless.
"You're saying they were killed as well?" The captain's frown deepened.
The vice-captain said nothing. The conclusion was based purely on the traces left behind—there was no absolute confirmation.
Then—
BOOM!
From deep within the sea of lava, a massive explosion erupted.
A towering wave of molten rock surged into the sky.
A moment later, a colossal flame dragon burst from the magma, its body covered in rivers of glowing lava. Its massive wings unfurled, casting an oppressive shadow over the molten landscape.
"HUMANS!"
The enraged roar shook the entire lava field.
The members of the Sunlight Scripture force froze in terror, their eyes locked onto the terrifying figure before them.
In that instant, the truth became clear.
They now knew exactly who had killed Quaiesse.
And they knew what the "giant creature" was.
"RUN!" The captain's voice cracked with raw fear as he bellowed the order.
BOOM!
A gravitational force more fearsome than a tidal wave surged from the depths of the lava sea.
The members closest to the front were yanked off their feet, their bodies dragged helplessly into the molten abyss.
"AAAAHHHHH—!!"
Somewhere Else
The sky was shrouded in thick, choking smoke.
The air reeked of sulfur, and active volcanoes spewed towering plumes of black ash into the sky.
Molten lava spilled from craters, flowing freely across jagged, obsidian terrain.
In the distance, the uneven landscape of blackened rock stretched endlessly.
A sudden flash of orange-yellow light flickered across a river of magma.
A strange red fish swam rapidly through the molten currents.
Then—BOOM!
A sudden eruption from a nearby volcano sent a surge of magma skyward.
The red magic fish used the force of the blast to propel itself out of the crater, soaring through the air before plummeting toward the rocky terrain below.
And then—
Just before impact, a dazzling light enveloped its body.
The fish morphed.
In midair, the creature's form twisted and expanded.
By the time it landed, it was no longer a fish—but a human figure.
"Shit… Flying is awful in that form!"
Sakeer exhaled sharply, his entire body wracked with pain.
His skin burned as though he had been roasted alive. He clenched his teeth and immediately activated his magic, launching himself into the air before he crashed.
As he steadied himself, he cursed under his breath.
"That damn Flame Dragon and the La-Angler—they must be in on this together!"
He took another look around, eyes narrowing at the desolate volcanic wasteland surrounding him.
"And more importantly—where the hell am I?!"