Night had fallen, and the air around the camp was dense and heavy, as if the entire world was holding its breath, awaiting the arrival of some unseen force. The faint glow of the campfire cast long, twisted shadows on the soldiers, who, after a day of fierce battle, were exhausted. They sat in small groups around the fire, trying to calm their nerves with a brief rest.
Gawain sat near the campfire, gazing into the flames with a deep, contemplative look. Amber and Hetty were beside him, silent, each lost in thought.
"Ancestor," Hetty broke the silence, speaking in a low voice, "today's battle… that 'Grand Mage' was not just an ordinary wraith. His power was unexpected, and his control over the Shadow Realm far exceeded that of a typical mage."
Gawain nodded, his expression serious and grave. "Indeed, that wild mage's power was far more complex than we imagined. His mastery of the Shadow Realm was exceptional, and it seemed as though that power didn't entirely belong to him." He paused, as if recalling something. "The Shadow Realm is naturally twisted and chaotic, yet he was able to control it at will, even creating complex formations. This isn't something an ordinary mage could accomplish."
Amber leaned in, frowning. "You mean… he may not have been acting alone? Or perhaps his power comes from something far greater?"
"Very likely," Gawain replied quietly. "In my memory, seven hundred years ago, no one could control such power. Even those mysterious organizations that claimed to communicate with the Shadow Realm only skimmed its surface. The Shadow Realm's power has always been a mystery to them."
Listening, Hetty's eyes flickered with concern. "So, aside from the enemies we can see, there may be an even greater force behind this."
At that moment, a soft sound came from the distance as a figure quietly approached from the darkness. It was Sir Byron. With a solemn expression, he approached the fire and reported in a low voice, "Ancestor, the air around us feels strange… The soldiers say they hear whispers at night, as though invisible eyes are watching them."
Gawain frowned slightly, pondering for a moment before he spoke. "Arrange for additional guards, and keep everyone on high alert, but don't incite panic. Those sounds… they may be remnants of the Shadow Realm's influence lingering in reality." His voice was calm and steady, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.
Amber pulled her cloak tighter, as if sensing the eerie tension in the air. She looked at Gawain with a hint of unease. "When we left the Shadow Realm, it did feel like something was off. That mist seemed to cling to us, almost as if it's waiting for something."
Gawain nodded, his gaze deep. "Perhaps it's a mark left by the power of the Shadow Realm, or perhaps a deeper omen. We narrowly escaped a dangerous realm, but that 'Grand Mage' hasn't truly vanished. As Hetty said, there may be a stronger entity at work, and the Shadow Realm is only a part of their plan."
Just then, a faint howl echoed from the forest, as if some creature was stirring in the dark. Several soldiers by the fire instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons, unease evident on their faces.
"That sound… it's strange…" Byron looked around warily, speaking in a low voice.
Gawain rose, his gaze sharp as he looked toward the forest, as if confirming something. His hand slowly moved to the hilt of his sword, his voice low and firm. "Prepare a defensive formation. Any creature that approaches is to be cut down on the spot. No one should lower their guard tonight."
Amber stood up as well, her eyes alert, gripping her dagger as she moved closer to Gawain. "Could the Shadow Realm's remnants really affect reality so profoundly?"
Gawain's gaze grew deeper. "Perhaps we underestimated the connection between the Shadow Realm and our world… If that power crosses the boundary, it won't just affect us—it'll affect the entire world." He paused, his tone growing graver. "This isn't just our battle—it's a fight for all life."
With Gawain's order, the soldiers quickly formed ranks, positioning themselves defensively. In the dim firelight, their tense expressions were illuminated, each one gripping their weapon tightly, a look of determination in their eyes.
In the night wind, faint rustling could be heard, as if countless feet were shuffling in the dark. Low, indistinct whispers seemed to drift through the air, hard to discern but carrying a chilling sense of malice.
Gawain took a deep breath, his gaze resolute and calm. He knew that these signs were not merely coincidental. Perhaps they stood on the edge of a much larger conspiracy and battle, and all they saw now was only the beginning of the fog lifting.
A few hundred meters from the ambush site, Gawain found the remains of a small, charred cabin.
It lay among the trees, scorched from what seemed to be an internal blaze that hadn't spread much further—perhaps a timely rain had saved the forest. Sir Byron inspected the area, noting signs of a fire that had happened about half a month ago.
Hetty detected faint traces of magic remaining at the site.
"What we saw in the Shadow Realm was probably a reflection," Gawain said, looking at the burned cabin in the forest clearing. "That wild mage had been living here for years, far from settled lands, so no one knew of his existence."
"But the question is… how did this happen?" Hetty frowned. "There's only a weak mana focus here, and the mage was low in power. Even if one of his experiments went wrong, causing a fire, he couldn't have created a long-lasting projection in the Shadow Realm or generated such a powerful wraith mist. This would require far more power than a lone mage could provide."
"Perhaps this notebook holds the answers." Gawain handed her an old, worn notebook.
It was the diary and research notes of the unknown wild mage, the same one they had received from Betty in the Shadow Realm.
Following Gawain's direction, Hetty turned to the latter half of the notebook and began reading carefully.
"…Ansu Year 729, Month of Fire, xx Day. I've been here for half a year now, found a mana focal point on the edge of the Cecil family's lands. It's nowhere near as strong as the focal points in Thousand Towers City, but it's enough to sustain my lab. The elemental energy here is stable; Annie's condition should improve.
"Ansu Year 729, Month of Harvest, xx Day. Annie seems to be improving; she hasn't had an episode in a long time—though it's unclear whether it's the environment or my treatments. This mana focus is too weak, even with amplification arrays; perhaps I should re-evaluate some of the formulas… though the Mystics' Guild always mocked my calculations, I've left them far behind…
"Ansu Year 730, Month of Mist, xx Day. The formulas and projections match perfectly! Or rather, things are progressing exactly as I calculated. With this new amplification method, the power of the mana focal point has increased immensely! With the additional mana support, I can finally begin the next phase of Annie's treatment. She hasn't had any episodes in months, but the treatment must continue; she can't endure another episode…
"Ansu Year 731, Month of Frost, xx Day. After the treatment, Annie can even get up and walk—she even made a meal! There was sausage and vegetable soup. I felt as if I hadn't tasted anything so good in a hundred years, even though the sausage was burnt, and she forgot to add salt to the soup… My treatment plan is working, and as long as the mana focal point here remains stable, Annie's recovery is in sight…"
Hetty skimmed over parts that detailed the mage's daily life with his daughter until she reached a messy, frantic section on the last few pages:
"Ansu Year 734, Month of Frost, xx Day. Annie had a relapse. Damn it!!
"I don't know what went wrong. Every treatment followed the plan, every ritual, every potion—I've used them for years without a problem! But Annie is still sick, and this time it's worse… worse than ever. I must find the reason. I will record every detail… Annie will be fine…
"Ansu Year 734, Month of Frost, xx Day. Annie hasn't improved. The new potion had no effect, and she's growing weaker… and… slipping away from this world. This morning I saw her hands becoming transparent, like mist, and her face covered in blisters. This world is rejecting her, pushing her toward the Shadow Realm. What do I do…
"Ansu Year 734, Month of Mist, xx Day. That damned sun, its red patterns mocking my helplessness! I finally know what went wrong, but I can't fix it… The elements are gathering unnaturally, mana is surging, and this weak mana focal point can't contain it. Even dismantling the amplification arrays is useless. The best thing would be to get Annie away from this influx of elements, but she's been here too long. Her body resonates with this environment. This resonance extended her life… but it will also take it away!
"Ansu Year 734, Month of Mist, xx Day. Mana across the area is in turmoil, raging, and the Cecil border feels like it's sinking into the legendary Sea of Mana. I can't reverse what's happening to Annie; half her body is no longer part of the material world. She said she saw the whole cabin
turn black and white this morning. Perhaps… I have no choice…
"Ansu Year 735, Month of Fire. My preparations are finally complete, and Annie's strength has nearly faded.
"This is my only chance. I have no other option.
"If Annie can't live in the material world, then another path must be taken.
"The ritual of Shadow Conversion is documented in the books, but the mana required is enormous. However, with the new amplification formulas and the power of the mana surge, it may be achievable. The area's mana is unusually active, and I've been compressing the energy in the focal point for months. Today, it's just barely enough. At noon, when the mana is at its peak, I'll begin.
"Annie, hold on. Your father will save you, and he'll be with you in the Shadow Realm. We'll live there for a long time, where you'll never feel pain again."
The diary ended here.
Hetty was about to close the notebook when Gawain pointed to a corner on the last page. "There are a few more words here."
Hetty looked closely—a dark ink stain was in the corner, which she'd originally thought was a spill, but now she could make out a few hastily scrawled words in smeared ink:
"The mana's out of control… The sun is red…"
Hetty repeated the words, puzzled. "The sun is red… How could the sun be red?"
"Could it have been the recent sunspot surge?" Rebecca suggested, as if recalling something. "It happened about half a month ago. The sun had more sunspots than usual. If the wild mage's mind was failing, he might have thought the sun was red…"
Hetty blinked, seeming to accept Rebecca's explanation. She then shook the notebook. "This explains much. The wild mage set up a large magic array to treat his daughter, then devised a desperate plan to convert both of them to Shadow Forms to extend her life. But his conversion ritual went out of control due to the mana surge, causing the fire two weeks ago, as well as the wraith mist and the strange vision you saw in the Shadow Realm…"
"That's not the main point," Gawain interrupted her. "Both the wraith mist and the cabin in the Shadow Realm are easily explained by this notebook. But I want you to focus on two details it mentions—one about the sun's dark red markings, the other about the large-scale sunspot activity."
Hetty noticed Gawain's serious expression and grew tense. "Ancestor, these two events…"
Gawain raised a hand to pause her. "And that wild mage also mentions the mana surge. You, as mages, should have sensed it too, right?"
Hetty and Rebecca exchanged glances and nodded. "There have been a few mana surges around the Cecil lands recently, but mana surges are normal—they're connected to the sun's constant movement. Solar fluctuations affect the mana on Earth, which rises and falls in response. Though the recent fluctuations were frequent, they weren't troubling."
Gawain looked at them, speaking slowly. "In the Gondor calendar year 1736, reports observed a large-scale dark red pattern on the sun. In 1738, there was the largest sunspot eruption in history, with nearly half of the sun covered in red spots. That same year, 26 provinces reported mana surges across nearly two-thirds of the empire. In 1739, a blood-red sun appeared, shrouding the land in crimson light, yet no catastrophe occurred. Instead, many newborns with remarkable magical talent were born. Records indicate nearly one-third of them had natural elemental affinities, causing resonance stones at birth registries to sell out nationwide. Scholars called that day the 'Dawn of Magic.' But later that year, the largest mana generator near the Gondor capital, the 'Deep Blue Well,' exploded. The well's mana focal point had filled with chaotic energy that the extraction array couldn't handle, leading to the core's destruction…"
Gawain paused, and Hetty, her face pale, finished for him, "...And in 1740, the Mana Tide erupted, and the greatest human empire fell within months."