Gazing into the future isn't as simple as watching a movie. Often, it's just fragments, disjointed pieces, like memories from a half-forgotten dream.
Because of this, prophecies are usually written in code. Sometimes they are clear, easy to understand, but other times they are cryptic and hard to decipher, even for the most experienced wizards.
The Oracle is no exception. Even though its accuracy rate is said to be around 99%, some prophecies in the book are notoriously difficult to decrypt.
One such prophecy is particularly confusing. It reads:
[There will be a drama involving four dark lords. The second will guard the prophecy of the first. The third will steal the prophecy from the second. The prophecy of the first will reveal the name of the fourth.]
This fragment has puzzled wizards for years. Its meaning has been debated, but no one has been able to fully understand its significance.
Everything changed the moment the Ensnaring Dark Lord got his hands on The Oracle.
Not long after after that event, unusual movements in the stars were detected. This was not something common, and the astronomers quickly realized that the Universe were in motion.
They knew a dark lord would attempt to seize The Oracle from Professor Goldilock. In response, the Council issued her a direct order.
[If a dark lord comes for The Oracle, hand it over. Don't fight.]
On the twelfth floor of the Mistheaven, dozens of astronomers rushed around, adjusting their equipment.
A massive stars movement was occurring, something none of them had ever seen before. If they didn't capture the data quickly, they might miss a critical revelation.
"Quick! Redirect all the stargazers! We don't have much time before the stars' path changes!"
Astronomers in the room scrambled. The 12th floor was filled with massive mechanical devices, all designed to track the movements of celestial bodies. The constant sounds of gears turning and metal clinking echoed throughout the room as the machines moving.
Suddenly, one of the senior astronomers, an old man with a long white beard, noticed something extraordinary.
His hands trembled as he observed the data being collected. He turned to Sir Nicholas, the head of the observatory, who sat in a wheelchair at the center of the room.
"Sir Nicholas... this is unbelievable."
Sir Nicholas, though calm, could sense the gravity of the situation. Slowly, he nodded.
"We're about to witness the identity of the 144th dark lord."
The room fell silent for a moment. Everyone understood the significance of this moment.
Whenever a new dark lord was revealed, it was a major event in the wizard world.
The existence of the 144th dark lord had already been known for some time, ever since the Stargazer Dark Lord performed her dark ritual, but the universe had not yet revealed the dark lord's face, name, or title.
This wasn't uncommon. The 143rd dark lord had been detected eight years earlier, but it took another full year before his identity was confirmed. When it was, he was given the title Ensnaring Dark Lord.
The gears of the observatory's equipment continued to turn as hundreds of stargazers locked onto a single point in the night sky. Then, with a sudden clang, everything stopped. All the stargazers pointed in the same direction.
A massive screen at the center of the room flickered to life, showing a vision. The image was crystal clear, unlike many of the more fragmented visions they had seen before.
In the vision, two men stood facing each other. The first was an older man, around forty, wearing a long, curly white wig that reached down his back. He was dressed like a nobleman from a bygone era. The second man was younger, perhaps thirty, with short golden hair and a more modern appearance.
[Hahaha, at last, I've found you, my savior!]
The man with the white wig exclaimed, his face lighting up with a smug, satisfied grin. It was clear he had been searching for this meeting for a very long time.
The golden-haired man remained calm. He showed no sign of surprise or fear.
[It's an honor to finally meet you, Saint Germain, the first Dark Lord. The father of magic.]
The room gasped.
Saint Germain was a figure from ancient history, the original Dark Lord. No one expected to see him in a vision connected to the 144th dark lord.
This revelation shocked everyone present, including Sir Nicholas, who nearly fell out of his wheelchair.
"Why is Saint Germain appearing in a vision about the 144th dark lord?"
Sir Nicholas muttered to himself, his voice trembling.
He gripped the arms of his wheelchair tightly, trying to make sense of the situation.
One of the senior astronomers nearby answered in a hushed tone,
"The resurrection of the first Dark Lord could signal the Second Coming of the Chalice... or the end of magic altogether."
Sir Nicholas shuddered at the thought.
He knew all too well how grave this situation was. The return of the first Dark Lord was not something to be taken lightly.
Meanwhile, in the vision, Saint Germain smiled, placing a hand over his chest in a gesture of respect toward the silver-haired man.
[Young one, may I know your name?]
The man with the silver hair nodded slightly.
[My name is Zephyr, but the world knows me as the Apocalyptic Dark Lord.]
His tone was indifferent, almost bored, as if the title meant little to him.
Saint Germain laughed heartily.
[Apocalyptic Dark Lord, indeed! A fitting title, for the world… no, for the universe could be destroyed in your hands…]
Suddenly, the vision began to distort, and the giant screen flickered. The stars had shifted again, and the vision was cut short.
The astronomers were thrown into chaos.
*Murmurs*
Murmurs spread throughout the room as they struggled to comprehend what they had just seen.
They had witnessed thousands of visions before, some showing wars that devastated entire nations, but this one felt different. This one carried a weight that none of them had experienced before.
"Sir Nicholas! What should we do?"
One of the senior astronomers shouted, panic clear in his voice.
They all knew that if they revealed this vision to the world, mass hysteria would follow.
Sir Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
"We will hold off on revealing this vision for now. We need to discuss it with the rest of the Stellarkeep Council before making any decisions."
As the astronomers began to calm down, Sir Nicholas muttered quietly to himself.
"Anastasia, I hope your prophecy holds the key to solving this cisis."
**********
It had been three days since the Rattanfanger attack on the fifth floor of Stellarkeep, and surprisingly, life at Mistheaven Academy carried on as usual.
Despite the chaos outside, the damage to Mistheaven Castle was limited to a single lecture hall, which had burned down completely. Other than that, the rest of the castle, including Mistheaven Academy, remained untouched. Classes resumed as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
August, completely unfazed by the events, laughed out loud in the bustling cafeteria, his mouth full of food.
"Hahaha, Rattanfanger is nothing compared to Professor Goldilock. They don't stand a chance. Munch munch."
He bit into a large ham sandwich, part of the free cafeteria menu today.
Word had spread fast, and many students had woken up early just to secure one of these sandwiches before they ran out.
The line that formed before breakfast was longer than usual. Students were talking, laughing, and some even trading sandwiches as if it were a currency of sorts.
For Oz, who was always well-stocked with PP, buying as many sandwiches as he wanted wasn't a problem. He could get dozens if he felt like it. But today, his friends, Nathan, August, and Sam, had dragged him along to stand in line.
"Why, Oz? If you're not going to eat it, just hand your sandwich over to me!"
Sam said, drooling as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Um, no, it's not that..."
Oz responded quietly, staring at his tray, barely touching his food.
Nathan, noticing his friend's expression.
"What's bothering you, Oz? Is it because of the announcement about the new dark lord?"
Oz flinched slightly, but still didn't respond immediately.
"A little, but... that's not really it either."
Nathan was close to the truth, but Oz remained in his thoughtful silence.
August, as usual, laughed it off, not noticing the tension in his friend's mood.
"Come on, Oz! You're not seriously scared of Rattanfanger, are you? They're cowards! Hahaha."
He made no attempt to lower his voice, openly mocking the infamous group in front of everyone in the cafeteria.
—If only you knew the real reason I'm acting like this, you'd be quiet too. Especially you, August!
Oz thought to himself, glancing over at August, giving him a warning look, trying to signal that he should stop.
The reason Oz was tense wasn't something he could easily talk about. In fact, he had every reason to keep it to himself.
"Aaa... open your mouth, Oz," came a soft voice from beside him.
The real reason for Oz's discomfort was Opheila.
She had been hanging out with them for the past three days, and even now she was casually feeding him a bite of her sandwich.
Oz hesitated but opened his mouth and took a bite.
"Munch. It's delicious," he muttered, though his thoughts were elsewhere.
—Yeah, being fed by a beautiful girl is something every guy dreams of. But this girl tried to kill me not too long ago.
"Ah, man! I'm so jealous of you, Oz. No girl ever feeds me!"
August complained, clearly envious of the attention Oz was getting.
—If Opheila fed you, August, I'm pretty sure she'd slip rat poison in because your mouth never shuts up about Rattanfanger.
"That new dark lord's title is terrifying."
Sam said suddenly, surprising the group.
He usually wasn't one to get involved in discussions about current events, but this one seemed to have caught his attention.
"Yeah, Apocalyptic Dark Lord."
Nathan said, his tone serious as he watched the news on the cafeteria TV.
"It really sounds menacing. A lot worse than the titles of previous dark lords."
On the screen, the image of a man in his thirties with silver hair was being broadcast worldwide.
Since the announcement of the 144th dark lord, the media hadn't stopped covering the story. News channels, magical publications, and even gossip columns were fixated on this new figure.
Nathan's curiosity seemed to shift. He turned back to Oz, a playful grin forming on his face.
"So, when did you two start dating?"
"What?"
Oz blinked, caught off guard.
"You and Opheila. When did you start going out?" Nathan clarified.
"We're not..."
Oz started to protest, but Opheila cut him off.
"Three days ago, we exchanged vows," she said plainly, without any hint of embarrassment.
"Pffft!"
Oz nearly choked on his drink, coughing as he spat some of it back into his cup.
Exchanging vows was no small thing in the wizar world. The phrase was a serious commitment, a declaration that a couple had promised to be together, usually in a binding magical contract.
"Opheila, come with me for a second,"
Oz quickly said, getting to his feet and grabbing her wrist. He needed to clear this up, fast.
Nathan and August grinned, knowing full well how this looked. As Oz led Opheila out of the cafeteria, Nathan let out a teasing whistle.
"Looks like someone's in a hurry to be alone with his girl!"
He called out, laughing with August.
Oz ignored them, not caring how it looked. He had more important things on his mind.
After reaching the quiet park, Oz couldn't wait any longer and turned to Opheila with frustration clearly visible on his face.
"What was that all about? Exchanging vows? Are you trying to mess with me in front of everyone?"
Opheila looked at him, her expression unchanged.
"I wasn't joking, Oz. Three days ago, we did exchange vows. We both swore not to kill each other, remember?"
Oz's eyes rolled up. He hadn't thought of it like that.
"Why are you still at Mistheaven!?"
Naturally, Oz had been bewildered when he first saw Opheila casually strolling up to him in the cafeteria, acting as though nothing had happened between them.
Opheila smirked, clearly amused by his frustration.
"I'm a student at Mistheaven. It's perfectly normal for me to eat in the cafeteria, isn't it?"
She replied with a sly tone, her words deliberately casual, as if she had no clue why Oz was upset.
But that only irritated Oz more. Of course, that wasn't the whole story.
Opheila's face, which had once borne dark markings from her curse, was now flawless, attracting the attention of many male students.
Several had tried flirting with her over the past few days, but she had shut them all down with one clear statement, that she was dating Oz.
"Since when are we dating?"
Oz growled, his eyebrows furrowing deeper.
"I don't remember agreeing to that."
He was irritated by her casual attitude.
Opheila chuckled and leaned in slightly, her hand reaching out to touch Oz's head.
"Maybe your memory isn't working right. Let me fix that for you."
She teased, pressing her fingertips against his hair.
Oz flinched as a small jolt of electricity ran through him, making his head tingle. It wasn't painful, but it was unsettling. She was clearly trying to manipulate his memories again, just like she had tried before.
After a few seconds, she pulled her hand away and sighed, pretending to be disappointed.
"Nope, still can't manipulate your memories."
She admitted it, as if she hadn't just tried to mess with his mind again.
Oz just stared at her, speechless. He wanted to yell at her. Then he decided to redirect the conversation.
"Why don't you just manipulate some other guy's memory and make him your boyfriend?"
He suggested.
It seemed like the logical thing for her to do, given her abilities. She could easily control any other student at Mistheaven.
Opheila raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused.
"Where's the fun in that?" she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.
"I'm here on vacation. After all, I did complete my mission successfully."
"Vacation?"
Oz's voice echoed as she dragged him along the cobbled path toward Kuiper Town.
"You hurt me the other day. I think it's only fair that you take responsibility for that."
She said with a playful grin.
"That was self-defense!" Oz shot back.
"You tried to kill me, remember?"
Opheila stopped walking for a moment and turned to face him, her expression mischievous.
"Oh, if the other students found out that you 'stabbed' me and hit me over the head, you'd be enemy number one with all the girls."
She grinned slyly, clearly enjoying the position she had over him.
Oz sighed, realizing there was no winning with her.
"Fine, fine. But don't stop me from pursuing Professor Goldilock. She's the only woman I care about,"
He said, his face lighting up with that creepy grin he always wore whenever Goldilock was mentioned.
Opheila's face scrunched up in a mix of disgust and amusement.
"Huh, you really are a magnet for dark lords, aren't you?" she said, shaking her head.
"First that old hag, then me. Who's next? The Transmutation Dark Lord? Hahaha."
Oz didn't laugh, though. Instead, her words made him think. She was right.
—Hmm, that's actually true. So far, there have been four… five dark lords entangled with me.
By the time they reached Kuiper Town, the destruction caused by the battle still hadn't been fully cleaned up.
Debris from destroyed buildings lined the streets, though crews had cleared most of it away. The town was still in ruins.
"You went too far, destroying an entire city."
Oz muttered, glancing around at the wreckage.
Most of the buildings were gone, save for a few on the outskirts that had managed to survive.
"If we hadn't, that old hag wouldn't have listened to us."
Opheila replied with a shrug, as if leveling an entire town had been no big deal.
She pointed toward a coffee stall that had been set up under a tent. The original cafe had been destroyed.
Opheila ordered a cappuccino, while Oz opted for a coffee latte. They also got a couple of donuts to go with their drinks.
"Mmm, apple donuts. My favorite."
Opheila said, her face lighting up as she took a bite.
For a moment, she looked like any other girl enjoying a sweet treat. It was strange seeing her so...normal.
Oz, however, couldn't shake his curiosity.
"If you don't mind, I want to know more about you. Specifically, about the real Pied Piper."
Villain origin stories always intrigued him, and Opheila's was one he didn't know much about.
Opheila paused, her donut halfway to her mouth. She seemed to consider his question for a moment before finishing the rest of the donut.
"Better if you see it for yourself."
Opheila took Oz's hand tightly, and after a few moments, everything around him went dark. Slowly, a new scene appeared before his eyes, as if he were transported somewhere else.
The sensation was oddly familiar, just like when he had used Eben's pocket watch before.
Oz looked at himself and noticed that both he and Opheila were transparent. They were in the middle of a memory, able to see everything but unable to interact or touch anything. It was as if they were ghosts watching events unfold.
The scene showed a cotton farm, but it wasn't a picture of prosperity.
The land looked dry and barren, with patches of shrubs dotting the fields. A light mist of water sprayed along rows of cotton plants that seemed to be hanging on despite the dry conditions.
Near the fields stood a modest house and a few barns. Around ten children were playing outside, running around.
However, something was off. When Oz tried to look at their faces, he realized they were blurry, almost like they were hidden behind a fog. It was impossible to make out any of their features.
Except for one little girl. She stood out, probably around five years old, with pale white skin and brown hair.
"I may be a master of memory manipulation, but even I can't remember my childhood clearly."
Opheila's voice was soft but tinged with sadness.
She stared at the little girl, the only clear figure in the memory. It wasn't hard to figure out that the girl was Pied Piper.
Everyone had a part of their past that touched them, no matter who they were.
As they continued to watch, a group of military trucks pulled up to the farm.
Soldiers dropped from the trucks, wearing uniforms that bore the insignia of the Northern Federation. They spoke in a language Oz wasn't familiar with.
The soldiers grabbed seven of the children, pulling them away from the others.
Oz watched as the children were loaded into the back of the military trucks.
Two adults, likely the parents, stood off to the side, their faces filled with sadness as their children were taken from them. They didn't cry or fight back.
"Back then, during the Ice War, the Northern Federation was in economic ruins. Parents selling their children wasn't uncommon."
Opheila explained, she pointed to the seven children now sitting in the back of the truck.
"I was one of them."
The scene changed. They were now in a cold, concrete facility. It felt like some sort of military base, with guards patrolling the hallways.
Children, much like those taken from around the country, sat in classroom, but instead of learning normal subjects, the curriculum was far from standard. It was clear they were being trained for something different.
"If you were lucky, you'd be trained as a spy. But most were used for experiments."
Opheila frowned as she spoke. The place obviously brought back bad memories, even for someone like her.
"I never saw my brother or sister again after I arrived here," she said, her voice quieter now.
Oz was about to ask more, but suddenly, a high-ranking officer entered the room. He was furious, barking orders at the staff and the children.
He struck a few of the children across the face, calling them "products" as if they were nothing more than objects.
"This isn't good enough! A.T.O.N and the Confederate States are one step ahead of us! We used to be the most feared espionage organization, and now? We're a laughingstock!"
The officer's face twisted with anger as he shouted at the staff. He stormed out, leaving the room in a tense silence.
"I spent thirteen years in that facility," Opheila continued.
"And then another ten years working as a spy for the GBK, moving from one country to the next."
The scene shifted once again. They were now in a dark, damp place that could only be described as a prison or dungeon. The air was thick with moisture, and the stone walls seemed to close in on them.
"I got caught while I was on a mission in the Frankish Kingdom."
Opheila said, her eyes fixed on a cell nearby.
Inside the cell sat a woman
Shackled, bruised, and covered in dried blood. It was clear Pied Piper had endured harsh interrogation.
*Creak*
The iron door to the dungeon opened. Soldiers marched in, followed by a woman wearing a robe that covered most of her face. Even from a distance, it was clear that this was someone of importance.
Without warning, a soldier threw a bucket of water over Pied Piper, forcing her awake.
*Gasp*
Pied Piper coughed, struggling to breathe as she fought to keep her composure.
"Someone wants to see you. Answer any questions, if you know what's good for you!"
One of the soldiers shouted.
"Hello... My name is Anastasia. May I call you Pied Piper?"
The robed woman, now revealed as Anastasia, The Stargazer Dark Lord. She stepped forward, pulling back the hood from her head to reveal her face.
"Heh, call me whatever you like. I have no name."
Oz's heart dropped. His expression hardened instantly.
—That bitch... why is she here?
Hatred filled his thoughts as he recognized the woman. His hands clenched into fists.
"Damn you, bitch!"
The curse slipped from Opheila's lips this time, as her voice echoed with anger.
Anastasia appeared to be in her twenties, but that was only on the surface.
Wizards, especially those of her level, often stop aging once their starlight reaches a critical point.
This phenomenon occurs when a wizard has accumulated enough starlight that their body no longer ages in the normal sense. Once this stage is reached, wizards are recognized as Grand Wizards.
As Anastasia opened the heavy metal cell door where the Pied Piper was shackled, the sound of the rusty hinges echoed in the dark, damp chamber.
She reached into her robe and pulled out a thick book with no cover, its pages yellowed and fragile.
"I want you to be one of the actors in a grand drama called 'Fate,' but I'm sure it's not a role you'll enjoy."
She spoke casually, as though inviting someone to a simple game, but there was a weight behind her words.
From a small pocket inside her robe, Anastasia take out a red, prickly stone that pulsed like a heartbeat, its surface glowing with a sinister, faint light.
—Its Briar Stone!
Oz tensed up as soon as he saw it. He recognized the object instantly, recalling the similar stone in his possession.
Without hesitation, Anastasia pressed the stone firmly against the Pied Piper's forehead.
The stone began to throb faster, its glow intensifying, casting the entire room in a crimson light. The Pied Piper's body jerked as soon as it touched her skin.
"Aaaaaaaa!"
A piercing scream echoed through the cell as the stone fused with her flesh.
"The material for this Briar Stone comes from wizards who were masters of manipulation."
Anastasia explained, her voice calm despite the screams that filled the air.
Her face remained emotionless, completely detached from the suffering in front of her. She continued pressing the stone, pushing it deeper, even as the Pied Piper's body convulsed uncontrollably.
Oz could see the veins on the Pied Piper's forehead bulging as if the stone was spreading through her blood, taking over her mind.
"Become the Pied Piper, the Ensnaring Dark Lord."
Anastasia whispered, her voice eerily calm despite the chaos.
"You will play a crucial role in this drama."
The stone was no longer visible. It had sunk into the Pied Piper's skull, disappearing beneath her skin.
She lay on the cold stone floor, her body twitching violently as the power of the Briar Stone ran rampant inside her, tearing through her memories, her mind.
Oz watched as her eyes rolled back, and foam bubbled at the corners of her mouth.
He knew exactly what was happening.
The Briar Stone was a failed product of the Transmutation Dark Lord's attempt to create the Philosopher's Stone. The Briar Stone formed by the condensed memories and knowledge of hundreds of people who had been sacrificed. Their memories now flooded the Pied Piper's mind, overwhelming her own identity.
"…"
The agonizing screams stopped.
The Pied Piper, who had been writhing in pain just moments ago, now lay eerily still, her body rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.
But Oz knew better than to think she was at peace. Inside her, hundreds of foreign memories were tearing her mind apart.
"When the Briar Stone devoured my memories, I no longer knew who I was."
Opheila, standing beside Oz, spoke softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Anastasia, however, remained unfazed. She reached into her cloak again, this time pulling out a small, metallic cube, about the size of a fist.
The surface of the cube shimmered, glowing faintly blue as intricate magical symbols hovered above it, rotating slowly in the air. Without a word, she placed the cube on the ground in front of the Pied Piper.
Oz's eyes narrowed. He recognized the object, though he had never seen one in person. This was Weser's Seal, a powerful artifact with the ability to trap its victims in a different dimension, an eternal prison with no escape.
The Pied Piper's body began to flicker, her form slowly becoming translucent as the magic from the cube enveloped her.
Bit by bit, she faded, sealed away into the cube. The only trace left was the faint blue light from the cube as it dimmed, signaling that the spell was complete.
"Weser's Seal," Opheila muttered.
"According to legend, the Weser River is where the Pied Piper of Hamelin drowned the children, their bodies never found. Now, the artifact that bears its name imprisons its victims in a constantly shifting dimension. They can see the world through a small window, but they can never escape."
From the darkness surrounding him, Oz saw a faint light, a glimpse through a small, barred window.
Outside, he could see the bustling streets, people going about their lives. The scene outside the window changed every few seconds, flashing from one place to another cities, fields, mountains.
"Weser's Seal is a prison."
Opheila continued, her voice emotionless.
"For twelve years, I was inside."
she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the shifting scenes.
"From there, I created several Rat Kings, manipulating them from within my prison."
Through the window, Oz could see dozens of people being brainwashed whenever the Pied Piper made contact with someone on the other side of the seal.
"But after the universe declared the title of Ensnaring Dark Lord, no new Rat Kings appeared. And we Rat Kings have been unable to contact our Original Body since then."
Opheila's gaze sharpened, her eyes locking onto Oz's. Her voice was colder now.
"That's the end of the Pied Piper's story. Now, all that remains of her are us, the Rat Kings. Clones of her memories."
*Whoosh*
In an instant, Oz's surroundings shifted, and he found himself back in the coffee shop. Only about five minutes had passed since Opheila had taken his hand.
"So, what do you think?"
She asked, her tone casual again as though she hadn't just shown him a glimpse into a dark and twisted past.
Oz looked down at the coffee cup in front of him, then back at Opheila, her hand still resting on his.
"I don't know if I should sympathize with your past," he said slowly.
"After all, the Rattenfanger has killed a lot of people."
He raised his cup with his left hand, taking a slow sip of the now lukewarm coffee. His gaze never wavered from Opheila's as he set the cup back down.
"But I do agree on one thing. Anastasia is a damn bitch."