In a dense forest near Kuiper Town, the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the faint scent of blood.
Magic police officers bustled around a gruesome scene. They were taking photos and scribbling down notes as they documented the horrifying incident that had just unfolded in Mistheaven.
*Snap* *Snap*
In the center of the crime scene stood an old well, its stone sides worn and weathered. Inside, a nightmarish sight greeted the onlookers: a twisted and mangled bodies, their features so distorted they were no longer recognizable as human.
There were twelve victims in total, their robes identifying them as students from Mistheaven.
"So, what do you think?"
Asked Mr. Blathers, his voice cutting through the eerie quiet of the scene.
He was a tall man, towering over the other officers, though he had a slight hunch. His thinning gray hair was neatly combed back, but a few rebellious strands always managed to stick up.
"From what I can tell, the perpetrator is a professional."
Mr. Nadgett is a detective with a wiry frame. His thin, sandy brown hair was unremarkable, but his pale skin gave him the look of someone who spent far too much time indoors.
He crouched down, examining the scene more closely.
One by one, the disfigured bodies were carefully lifted from the well and placed into body bags, their limbs unnaturally twisted as they were carried away.
Each corpse wore the tattered remnants of the Mistheaven Academy uniform, the emblem barely visible through the dirt and blood. The identification process was slow, hindered by the gruesome state of the victims.
Last night, Mistheaven had received reports from students, claiming that several female students had mysteriously disappeared after midnight.
Now the grim reality set in. These 12 bodies were confirmed to be the missing girls.
"Mr. Detective, come take a look at this."
A young officer called out, his voice quivering as he emerged from behind a cluster of bushes. His face was pale, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Not far from the well, hidden among the bushes, stood a stone altar. The surface was smeared with fresh blood.
At the center of the altar was a wooden chalice filled with thick, dark red liquid. The ground around it was marked with strange magic formulas, written in what appeared to be blood.
"Oh my god. Contact the inquisitor immediately!"
Mr. Nadgett barked the order, his voice tight with urgency.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the wooden chalice and hurled its contents to the ground, even though tampering with a crime scene was strictly forbidden. The detective knew the risks, but he had no choice.
As the red liquid splashed onto the dirt, it began to writhe and shift, transforming into a swarm of buzzing, blood-red flies. They fluttered trying to escape into the woods.
"Incendia Orbis!"
Mr. Nadgett shouted, thrusting his wand forward.
Flames burst from his wand, enveloping the swarm in a fiery orb. The flies screeched in agony, their tiny bodies crackling as they were incinerated.
*Screeeech*
"What was that?"
Mr. Blathers asked, his voice trembling slightly as he bent down to study the strange symbols etched into the ground.
"Dark wizard has created a Morrowghast."
Mr. Nadgett said gravely.
Morrowghast is a creature forged from the sacrifices of young girls burdened with immense sorrow.
The more lives sacrificed, the more powerful and violent the Morrowghast becomes.
It doesn't possess a singular form, instead, it exists as a swarm of countless red flies, which devour their victims until nothing remains but bones.
"This is definitely the work of the Ensnaring Dark Lord's followers."
Nadgett muttered, the name of the feared Dark Lord sending a chill through the air.
From eyewitness accounts, the victims had been seen wandering out of Mistheaven's halls late at night, their eyes glazed over as if trapped in a sleepwalking. Anyone who approached them would fall into a daze, soon losing consciousness altogether.
The testimonies of the students strengthened the suspicion that this was the work of the Pied Piper's followers.
Although he had been around for years, it was only in the last three years that he began making bold moves. His followers, had now escalated to murder.
"Send word to Mistheaven! There's a Morrowghast on the fifth floor! Hurry!"
Mr. Blathers barked at his subordinate, who quickly sprinted from the scene.
The officer grabbed a broomstick from a nearby carriage and launched into the air, speeding toward Mistheaven Castle as fast as the broomstick could carry him.
"A Morrowghast is drawn to those with overwhelming sorrow in their hearts. I fear more victims will fall before it's done."
Mr. Nadgett muttered, watching the officer disappear into the sky.
The Morrowghast wasn't just a creature, it was a curse. Since 12 students had been sacrificed, the curse could now claim 12 more lives in return.
Mr. Nadgett's face was grim, hardened by years of chasing after dark wizards and solving gruesome magic crimes. His work had long since drained him of any emotion, leaving only cold determination.
"I just hope that dark wizard can't control the Morrowghast, or there will be even more casualties."
He sighed, lighting a cigarette as he stared up into the fake sky.
**********
"Fold," August muttered, tossing his cards down in frustration. The hand he held was terrible.
"Raise," Nathan said with a cocky grin, placing four loaves of bread on the table.
His eyes gleamed with confidence as he held onto two queens, sure that victory was his.
"Raise. Eight loaves of bread," Oz said calmly, upping the stakes as he added eight loaves to the pile.
Nathan's confident grin faltered. He glanced at Oz, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. Bread was a valuable to students. One loaf cost 1 PP.
"Alright, Oz, this time I'm going to win. Raise!"
Nathan declared with a confident grin, his eyes gleaming as he pushed 4 loaves of bread onto the table.
It was now down to just Oz and Nathan. The others had already folded, leaving the two of them to decide who would claim the title of victor and walk away with all 36 loaves of bread.
"Two pairs of queens."
Nathan said with a smug grin, laying down his cards. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as if he'd already won, confidence oozing from every pore.
"Too bad, I thought you'd be better this time."
Oz replied with a mischievous smirk, barely glancing at Nathan's cards. With a slow, deliberate motion, he laid his hand on the table.
"Three pairs of aces."
The air left Nathan's lungs as his expression deflated. All the cockiness drained away in an instant, replaced by a look of disbelief.
"No way…," he whispered.
Oz's grin widened as he watched the realization dawn on Nathan. The pile of bread now officially belonged to him.
"Again?"
August groaned, watching as Nathan crumpled into his seat.
"Oz always wins."
Sam, who had been mostly quiet until now, couldn't tear his eyes away from the huge mound of bread on the table.
His mouth was watering, and he had to wipe the drool from his chin as he stared hungrily at the loaves.
"Ah, we should play something else next time. Oz is always cleaning us out."
Nathan grumbled, leaning his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands.
"I suspect Oz is cheating. But I have no idea how he's doing it."
August added, crossing his arms in frustration. His expression mirrored Nathan's, irritated and suspicious.
—Muehehehe. Of course, you're losing, you little rookies. I've been playing poker for decades.
Oz chuckled to himself as he began stuffing the loaves of bread into two large sacks he had prepared in advance.
He'd been winning bread all day, and now his total had reached a whopping 60 loaves.
Since this morning, the four of them had been sitting at the same table in the cafeteria, either playing poker or chatting about the recent disturbing events at the academy.
The academy had canceled all classes on the first day of the new semester.
The reason?
A major investigation was underway, with both the magic police and the inquisitors involved.
The details were still unclear, but the involvement of the inquisitors suggested that something related to a dark wizard must have occurred.
Although the academy had tried to keep the incident under wraps, rumors spread like wildfire. It was impossible to keep such a scandal quiet when inquisitors and officers were combing through the grounds.
Among the group, Nathan was taking it the hardest. Last week, Molly, a member of their club, had tragically died in the Catacombs. Now, another friend, Madge, from Nathan's hometown, had been found dead.
"Ah, I'm tired of bread. I've lost my appetite. I'm going to get some ice cream."
Nathan said with a weary sigh as he stood up and made his way toward the ice cream booth. The line was long, unsurprising given that almost all the students had returned to Mistheaven for the start of the new semester.
"So, is it true? 20 students were found dead in the well?"
August asked, his voice hushed, not wanting to upset Nathan.
"They say the well has been haunted for hundreds of years."
Oz shook his head.
"Not 20, but 12. They were killed in a dark arts ritual, and their bodies were thrown into the well afterward. And for the record, that well isn't haunted. It's just an ordinary well."
Rumors had a way of growing more exaggerated with each retelling. What had started as a horrific tragedy was already being twisted into tales of ghosts and curses. The truth was already dark enough without adding myths into the mix.
"Hmm, Opheila?"
Oz glanced toward the entrance of the cafeteria and spotted Opheila, who seemed to be looking for a seat.
The cafeteria was unusually packed today, and finding an empty spot is hard.
"Hey, Opheila! Over here!"
Oz called out, waving her over with a grin.
Opheila noticed Oz waving and made her way through the crowd toward their table.
"Hop on, there's still one seat left."
Oz said, motioning to the spot Nathan had just vacated.
—Just let senior find another seat.
"Um, thank you."
Opheila said politely, setting her tray down. She had picked up a modest meal of a salami sandwich, nuggets, salad, and orange juice. And, of course, she had also grabbed an apple pie, one of the most popular desserts among the girls at Mistheaven.
She sat beside Oz, taking the spot Nathan had left behind. Oz leaned back in his chair, casually watching her as she took a bite of her sandwich.
"Want a bite?"
She asked suddenly, holding out her sandwich toward Oz. She offered it to him right in front of his mouth.
"Um, sure."
*Munch*
Oz took a bite from the sandwich that Opheila offered him, savoring the salty, rich flavor of the salami paired with the soft, fresh bread.
"Mmm, thanks, Opheila."
Oz nodded in appreciation.
Opheila simply nodded back, her expression calm as usual, then continued eating her sandwich. However, the white bandage on her left hand had a shade of red.
"What happened to your hand?"
Oz asked, concerned, as he noticed the red stain. His question caused Opheila to pause mid-bite. Slowly, she placed her sandwich back on the tray.
"This?"
With a quiet sigh, she began unwinding the bandage from her left hand.
As the last strip of cloth fell away, the sight of her hand shocked Oz.
He was not surprised by Opheila's left hand, which had darkened due to her illness. What truly shocked him was the fresh wound in the middle of her palm, the cut still unhealed.
"Knife cut."
Her voice flat as she explained it. The brief answer hung in the air. She quickly wrapped the bandage back around her hand, hiding it as if it meant nothing.
"…"
Oz remained silent.
Opheila resumed eating as if their conversation had never happened, munching on a nugget while ignoring everyone.
From the ice cream booth, Nathan returned, balancing two large cones in his hands.
He was licking his vanilla cone, however his expression quickly soured when he saw that his seat had been taken by Opheila.
After scanning the cafeteria, he spotted an empty chair at the next table and quickly moved there.
"Hey, hey! I just heard some news. Wanna hear it?"
Nathan asked between licks of his ice cream, clearly eager to share whatever gossip he had picked up.
"Sure, spill it."
August replied, curious but not taking his eyes off his own food.
"So, according to a member of the mystery club, his brother is a magic police officer. He says that the recent incident revealed the ritual was used to summon something called a Morrowghast."
Nathan's voice dropped into a hushed tone while he spreading the news.
August, Sam, and Oz exchanged confused looks. None of them had any idea what a Morrowghast was, though the name alone sounded scary.
"It's a creature born from Dark Arts. They say it devours its victims in an instant, leaving behind only bones. And you know what it loves to eat the most? Fat kids."
Nathan let out a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with mischievous delight as he looked over at Sam.
Sam, who had been happily munching on fries moments ago, froze. His face paled as he heard Nathan's words. He glanced nervously at his plate, then at his stomach, suddenly losing his appetite.
"That's… terrifying."
Sam mumbled, pushing his fries away.
Nathan nodded, clearly pleased with himself for scaring Sam.
"Yeah, it is. And hear this, the mystery club is planning to visit the crime scene this afternoon. You can't tell anyone, though. It's top secret."
—But you've already told us.
Oz thought to himself, shaking his head.
The mystery club had been suspended, especially after one of their members had died during Catacombs exploration. Despite this, it seemed they were still keen on putting themselves in danger.
*Clang*
Suddenly, the sound of a tray crashing to the floor echoed across the cafeteria, cutting through the idle chatter.
"Keughhhff."
A female student from the House of Neptune lay on the ground, convulsing, her body writhing in agony.
Before anyone could react, a swarm of red flies poured out from beneath her robes, the air around her becoming thick with the buzzing insects. In seconds, the flies engulfed her entirely, and what was once a living, breathing person was now a pile of bones.
"Kyaaaa!"
The cafeteria erupted into chaos. Students screamed in terror, chairs toppled over, and trays were abandoned as everyone scrambled to flee.
"Incendia Orbis!"
A fiery blast lit up the cafeteria as one student, David, leaped into action, hurling a fireball at the swarm of flies. The flames struck some of the flies, incinerating them on the spot, but many still remained.
"Damn it! There's too many of them! Incendia Orbis!"
David shouted, launching another fireball.
Though some of the Morrowghast flies were hit, there were still countless others, and they were now spreading, attacking other students.
David found himself in a tough spot. If he kept casting spells, he risked harming the students who were caught in the flies' swarm. But if he did nothing, more lives would be lost.
"Run!"
"Help!"
"Monster!"
The cafeteria turned into complete chaos. Students ran in all directions, some tripping over each other in their desperation to escape.
Oz acted quickly, grabbing Opheila's hand.
"Guys,this way!"
he shouted, pulling her along as he led their group through the panicked crowd. His sharp reflexes allowed him to dodge the fleeing students as they made their way toward safety.
"Still think you want to chase after that creatures?"
Oz called out to Nathan, who had been so eager earlier to investigate the crime scene.
Nathan's face had turned pale. He shook his head vigorously.
"I'll… uh, I'll think about it."
The cafeteria, once noisy and filled with students, was now nearly empty. The only sound left was the frantic buzzing of the Morrowghast and the crackle of fire spells trying to keep the creatures at bay.
"Let's hide over there!"
Oz pointed to a janitor's room across the cafeteria used by the cleaning staff to store their equipment.
"Phew, I thought the Morrowghast only attacked at night."
Nathan gasped, struggling to catch his breath after running in terror, his face flushed from exhaustion.
"Technically, the Starry Night World is always night," said August.
"…"
Nathan fell silent, realizing August was right.
The entire group was visibly exhausted from their dash through the janitor room. While the others panted heavily, leaned against the walls, or bent over to catch their breath, Oz remained calm.
—What could the master of the morrowghast be thinking, attacking openly like this in front of so many witnesses?
Oz thought to himself. Such an obvious attack would certainly draw the attention of the Inquisitors. If they started patrolling Mistheaven, things would become much more dangerous for dark wizzard like him.
"Oz, my hand hurts."
Opheila's voice, soft but pained, broke the silence. She looked down at her left hand which Oz had grabbed in the panic.
"Oh, sorry, Opheila."
Oz quickly released her hand. Despite the pain, Opheila hadn't resisted him, only now calmly pointing it out. She didn't make a fuss.
Nathan peeked through the window of the janitor's room, his head shifting nervously.
"Opheila, did you know who that was earlier? The girl who… y'know…"
"…"
Opheila stayed silent. She didn't even spare Nathan a glance, choosing to ignore the question entirely. It was clear she had no intention of talking to him.
"Let me try. Did you know the girl who died, Opheila?"
"She was a senior from the same dorm."
Opheila replied quietly.
"We ran into each other sometimes, but we weren't close," Opheila added.
"Why am I being ignored? I'm way better looking than Oz. This is so unfair! Huaaah!"
Nathan let out a dramatic groan. He threw his arms up in frustration, his wails echoing off the janitor room. It was clear his ego had taken a hit from being dismissed by Opheila while Oz seemed to get all the attention.
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?!"
Oz snapped, felt offended.
"Obviously, I'm the better looking one here. Anyone with eyes could see that," protest Oz.
Nathan pouted, but August quickly intervened, his voice stern.
"This isn't the time to argue over who's looking better. We need to figure out what to do next."
August's easygoing demeanor now showed cracks, his fingers trembling slightly from what they had just witnessed. The sight of the Morrowghast tearing through the students had clearly shaken him, even though he tried to stay composed.
"Relax."
Oz said with a confident smirk.
"David's got this under control. We can leave it all to him."
—Come on, Mr. Protagonist, this is your moment. You're the hero, right?
In the cafeteria, the battle was escalating. David and three other students, including Estella, were fighting the Morrowghast. They were scattered, trying to deal with the creatures as best they could.
*Swirl*
*Boom*
David's wind magic sent several Morrowghasts flying into the air, giving the other students enough time to cast fire spells to incinerate them.
"There's too many of them!"
Estella shouted, her voice filled with frustration.
She was struggling to keep up, her wand kept glowing as she cast spell after spell.
"Use wind magic! Blow them together, then burn them all at once!"
David commanded with his sharp voice. His plan was simple but effective, keeping the Morrowghasts from using the other students as a meatshields.
—But how long could they keep this up?
Their starlight was depleting rapidly. They couldn't keep casting at this rate for much longer.
However, before their starlight ran out, something or someone far more terrifying than the Morrowghasts entered the cafeteria.
*Boom*
*Screech*
A sea of golden fire engulfed the cafeteria in an instant, sweeping over the entire room. But not a single student was burned. The flames moved with an unnatural precision.
It was the work of a Grand Mage. No, someone even more powerful.
Professor Goldilock, the Scorching Dark Lord, stepped into the room. Her golden eyes blazed with fury, her gaze sweeping across the chaos before her.
"Ensnaring's little toys, daring to invade my academy."
Her voice was cold, full of bloodlust.
"A mere hatchling has the audacity to challenge me?"
With a sharp snap of her fingers, the golden flames vanished, leaving only ash in their wake.
Every Morrowghast in the cafeteria had been incinerated, reduced to nothing in the blink of an eye. But the headmaster's face showed no relief, only anger, as if this was a mere inconvenience to her.
"You four are reckless."
Professor Goldilock said, her voice cold, but to David and his friends, it felt as hot as standing on top of a volcano.
"But, as a reward for your idiocy, I'll give each of you 1 HP. Be grateful."
None of the four students looked particularly pleased with the reward. They stood there, stiff and tense, terrified of the figure standing before them.
Even Oz, who usually took delight in tormenting the headmaster with his pranks, wore a serious expression. He had planned on pulling a stunt today, but not anymore. Not when Professor Goldilock was in such a foul mood.
"Oz, whatever you do, don't make the headmaster mad."
August whispered, his voice shaking. The sight of those golden flames had clearly left him rattled.
"Don't worry, I have no intention of dying by a nuclear bomb today."