A dark chamber flickered with the eerie glow of blue flames, casting shifting shadows against the cold stone walls. The air was thick with an ancient energy, humming with restrained power.
At the chamber's center, a large circular diagram glowed with the same ominous blue light. Four figures, all aged and draped in dark robes, sat cross-legged around the ritual markings, their eyes closed in deep concentration. Their presence alone commanded the silent reverence of the dark-cloaked figures standing around them—pale-faced watchers who dared not disturb the ceremony.
Yet, in a quieter corner of the chamber, two figures whispered.
A young woman, her voice soft yet laced with curiosity, leaned toward her companion.
"Stern, do you know who Valerie is trying to find?"
The young man beside her stiffened, his voice sharp with disapproval.
"Sterza, do not address her by name so casually. Show respect."
Sterza frowned. "She told me to call her Valerie."
Stern's expression darkened. "Lady Valerie is a Legendary powerhouse. Even if she permits familiarity, you should still speak of her with proper respect—especially in the presence of others."
Sterza huffed but relented. "Fine. But do you know who she's looking for?"
Stern exhaled, his voice flat. "I don't know."
Sterza's face twisted in annoyance. "Then why waste my time?"
Rolling her eyes, she strode forward, stepping beside Rosalin, a female vampire with dark golden hair and piercing eyes.
"Rosalin, can you tell me who Lady Valerie is searching for?"
Rosalin did not turn, her gaze fixed on the ritual. "Only Mistress Valerie knows. Perhaps your father does."
At the mention of her father, Sterza's gaze flickered toward him—a tall, imposing figure with an ice-cold stare, his focus locked onto the ongoing ritual magic.
A sudden sound disrupted the moment—footsteps descending into the chamber.
All eyes turned toward the entrance.
Lady Valerie had arrived.
The moment Sterza's gaze landed on her, she felt her breath hitch. Perfection. That was the only word that came to mind. No matter how many times she had seen Valerie's face, she always froze, captivated by its ethereal beauty. Her mind blanked, her instincts failing her—until she felt Rosalin's firm hand pressing against her head.
Sterza quickly bowed, following the rest of the chamber.
The silence lingered, thick and heavy, until Valerie's voice rang through the chamber—smooth, powerful, and absolute.
"Rise."
As the gathered figures straightened, Valerie's sharp gaze fell upon the ritual circle, its blue glow flickering erratically.
"Lexand."
A tall, imposing man standing beside Sterza's father stepped forward. His voice was steady but tinged with urgency.
"Mistress, any moment now, we will have Master Lucaius's exact location."
But before he could finish, the ritual diagram flared violently—blue sparks bursting outward before the glow snuffed out entirely. A choked gasp echoed in the chamber as the four elders seated around the circle coughed up blood, their bodies trembling from the backlash.
Valerie's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
The four struggled to their feet, exchanging glances before hesitantly looking toward Duke Lexand, silently seeking permission to speak. With a curt nod from the Duke, one of them, Rheas, stepped forward.
His voice was hoarse. "We were able to determine the region, but at the last moment, something blocked our scrying."
Valerie's expression darkened. "Blocked? By what?"
Rheas hesitated. "There are only two possible explanations—either a legendary magic weapon was used to interfere… or the target has already reached the Legendary realm."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Valerie's face before she gave a faint nod. "Then he's still alive."
She turned on her heel and strode toward the exit, her presence undeniable even as her voice remained composed.
"Sterza, Rosalin—follow me."
The two immediately obeyed, trailing behind her as she ascended the stairs.
Duke Lexand, after a final glance at the drained elders, also turned to leave. He had barely stepped past the threshold when Rheas called out.
"Duke—our promise."
Lexand didn't look back. "Follow Klaro. He will transform the four of you into Vampires."
With that, he disappeared into the hallway, swiftly catching up to Valerie, who had stopped in the front hall of the estate.
"Mistress."
She turned slightly, raising an eyebrow at him in silent question.
Lexand didn't hesitate. "What are your orders now?"
Valerie's lips curved slightly. "Orders? For what?"
Lexand's expression tightened. "Are you not sending a team to investigate the region where Master Lucaius was detected?"
Valerie's response was immediate. "No need. I will go myself tomorrow."
Lexand stiffened. "Mistress, that's too dangerous."
She gave him a pointed look. "I am Legendary rank. What could happen to me?"
Lexand's tone grew heavier. "Mistress, you have yet to fully recover from your slumber. The City of Towers has sent a large number of mages to this continent after the prophecy. Do you even know what the prophecy foretells?"
A shadow passed through Valerie's gaze, but she only shook her head. "I do not. But it doesn't matter. Prepare a team—we leave tomorrow."
With that, she stepped outside, her dark silhouette vanishing into the night, Rosalin and Sterza following close behind.
------
At this time, in the western mountains beside the valley, Gavin's clone made his way back to one of the two territories he had occupied. Though spring had arrived, the mountain was still blanketed in snow, the air crisp and biting.
Suddenly, he halted mid-step, his keen senses tingling with unease.
A deep breath. A faint, rancid scent carried by the wind.
"Evil Hyenas."
His sharp eyes scanned the darkened slopes, catching the telltale gleam of countless eyes lurking in the night. Low cackles echoed eerily around him as the beasts crept closer, their laughter filled with cruel anticipation.
"I'm surrounded."
Gavin's clone crouched low, muscles coiled like a spring, his piercing gaze locked onto the shifting shadows. His lips curled into a snarl, a deep, primal growl rumbling in his chest.
Then, in an instant, five identical copies of himself flickered into existence around him.
The pack of Evil Hyenas hesitated, their predatory instincts thrown into disarray. Moments ago, they had surrounded one target—but now, six wolves faced them, each baring their fangs in defiance.
The hesitation didn't last long.
The hyenas split into six groups, lunging at the wolves with snapping jaws and razor-sharp claws. But as soon as they clashed—five of the wolves vanished into thin air.
Illusions.
The real Gavin clone had already slashed through several hyenas, their shrill cries piercing the night as blood stained the snow. Seizing the opening, he broke through the encirclement, sprinting into the open before turning to face the pack once more.
His sharp gaze swept over his remaining opponents.
Only two of them were Bronze-rank, the rest were weaker.
A slow, feral grin spread across his face. "Now… let's see what you've got."
The night air crackled with tension, the silence stretching thin between Gavin's clone and the pack of Evil Hyenas. Their yellow eyes glowed like eerie lanterns, dark energy coiling around them as their snarls deepened.
Then, they attacked.
Dozens of dark energy balls launched toward him, streaking through the air like deadly meteors. The bronze-ranked hyenas fired larger orbs, pulsating with corrupt energy, while the weaker ones rained down smaller but still lethal spheres in a relentless barrage.
Gavin's clone reacted instantly.
With a sharp stomp, jagged obsidian spikes erupted from the ground, forming a defensive barrier that absorbed most of the incoming attacks. The moment the energy collided with the spikes, a shockwave of force rippled outward, shattering the spikes into dark shards.
Through the dust, Gavin's clone flicked his hand—obsidian spears shot forward like arrows, skewering several weaker hyenas mid-leap. Pained yelps filled the air as the deadly spikes impaled their bodies, pinning them to the frozen earth.
The surviving hyenas retaliated.
The bronze-ranked beasts unleashed whips of dark energy, lashing toward him with terrifying speed. The clone dodged nimbly, barely avoiding the sizzling tendrils as they scorched deep trenches into the ground.
Without pausing, he thrust his palm forward, and obsidian bullets—small but incredibly fast—shot out like a hailstorm. Several lower-ranked hyenas dropped instantly, holes punched clean through their skulls before they even had time to react.
One of the Bronze-rank hyenas twisted, avoiding the deadly barrage, then opened its jaws wide—a massive orb of dark energy gathered, crackling ominously before it exploded toward him.
Gavin countered.
Raising his hand, he conjured an obsidian shield, its surface gleaming like polished night. The dark energy slammed into it, causing a deafening boom, but the shield held firm, absorbing the force before shattering into harmless fragments.
But the enemy wasn't done.
The remaining weaker hyenas, desperate and enraged, charged forward.
Gavin slammed both hands to the ground—the earth trembled.
In an instant, the soil beneath the hyenas softened into quicksand, pulling several down along with the snow before solidifying again, entombing them alive.
The rest, realizing the battle of magic was turning against them, abandoned spells.
They lunged forward, teeth bared.
So be it.
With a feral grin, Gavin's clone lowered his stance, ready to meet them fang for fang, claw for claw.
The spell battle was over.
Now, the real fight began.