The energy of the air was suffocating. Two first-rate magicians had just been pushed by a force, with neither of them comprehending how it had happened. Even the bystander, Larche, despite witnessing everything, was just as lost.
How could one man stop both of them?
And even more absurd— how did he remain completely unfazed?
Vicente lowered his arms in calm. His eyes showed firmness as he assessed the two on both sides. He turned first to the one still seething with aggression, Charles Vein.
"Looking at it clearly. You are not the type of person who is arrogant. Still, you are insane."
Charles did not bother to react with words, only a glare sharp enough to send a shiver down Vicente's spine. The killing intent Charles had been radiating was real. Heavy— almost tangible.
Yet, Vicente could discern that he wasn't arrogant. Charles was completely in a calm state. He was just… very angry.
Not about pride but about the fight. And, this fight had been interrupted by a variable unknown to Charles.
"He is not just insane." Umbra interrupted, with a smirk visible in his lips. "He is very insane. Fight-living bastard. Now you know your place."
Vicente shifted his gaze towards Umbra, showing a deadpan face. 'You are one to talk! '
If Charles was insane, then Umbra was the arrogant one.
Then—
BOOM!
A vortex of magic erupted. Energy in the form of lightning bursts into the air with its vigorous intensity. It came from none other than Charles.
In an instant, Vicente backed off, disappearing behind Umbra in one swift motion.
"What are you doing behind my back?" Umbra hissed.
"You provoked him. You solve this problem."
"You are in this, too— stopping his entertainment. Do that thing you did earlier!"
"As if I can do it again!"
We are skrewed!
They exchanged glances knowing how screwed they were.
Umbra thought of one viable solution.
"Ah! Larche, act as a shield!"
But when they turned, Larche was gone. There was not even a single trace where he had been sitting just moments ago. He had fled long before the chaos erupted, knowing this would happen.
Smart!
"Do something!" Vicente urged. "Aren't you a first-rate magician?"
"Of course I am." Umbra grumbled. He was no doubt a strong individual that could hold his own against Charles. But Charles was not just a fighter. He was a complete lunatic. A fight-crazed madman who would not stop even by force.
And dealing with unreasonable people? Umbra dislikes it.
"No way," He decided as he turned his heels swiftly. "Let us run. I don't like seeing his face,"
"Do you think you can run?"
Charles did not hesitate. He charged forward, leaving a gold lightning trail in his path. His speed was blinding. Yet, he could not reach them.
Just before Charles could grab him, Umbra unleashed his magic, wrapping himself and Vicente with darkness. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared.
Charles skidded to a stop with his eyes narrowing. Then, he lifted his head.
There.
Perched atop a nearby rooftop, Umbra, with Vicente on his side, gazed down at him. The two locked eyes.
The unveiling of true powers made Charles grin.
Then, in an instant, Charles vanished. Not even a flicker of hesitation, his speed became faster than before.
Umbra reacted just in time. Umbra, with Vicente, also disappeared, shifting through the darkness, dodging Charles by merely inches.
It had become a game. A high-speed chase of monsters.
Charles stood atop the building, scanning the area. His grin widened despite losing them.
"He was that fast?" He murmured. A laugh appeared in his mouth thinking about the situation.
"A play of catch? That's interesting."
It was not a good charm for Umbra. The chase triggered Charles to even want more.
"Where are you planning to go?" Vicente asked, watching as Umbra moved swiftly with unbroken pace.
Umbra did not bother to answer immediately. He kept moving through the buildings as Vicente followed. Vicente, however, had other questions.
"You could have escaped earlier if you really wanted to," Vicente pointed out. "Why didn't you just run instead of fighting?"
Umbra did not bother to slow down, but something in his expression flickered. A pause, a thought.
Huh?
Huh?
"Why did I not think of that earlier?" Umbra muttered in disbelief.
Vicente's eyebrow twitched. 'Is he an idiot?' That was his immediate thought. Why was Umbra realizing this only now? The whole situation felt ridiculous— the absurdity of it made him question everything about this so-called first-rate magician.
Umbra, however, continued without acknowledging the delayed discovery. "Anyway, it is not that easy. Both of our abilities are crazy enough that we tend to hold back. I was lucky he didn't show something even more ridiculous."
It was true. Neither Umbra nor Charles had displayed their full capabilities. Both of them would not be able to call themselves first-rate magicians if what they showed at this night was their limit. Indeed, they are more powerful than what they have shown.
Umbra could even think that they might be on par with each other. If they ever truly fought to the death, the result was uncertain.
Umbra exhaled experiencing the headache Charles had caused. "Also, where the hell is that idiot, Larche? I swear, I'll beat him next time we meet."
'You were trying to use him as bait earlier!'
Their hurried travels atop the buildings came to a halt as Umbra finally stopped. Standing at the edge of a secluded district, an eerie sensation creeped at their skin.
Vicente felt it now, too. The curse, the same one Umbra had sensed earlier. It is here, at the ground beneath them.
"You felt it, too?" Umbra asked. "That is surprising. Dreamers don't usually have that kind of perception."
Umbra studied him for a moment longer before murmuring. "A Magnolia, Light Dreamer?"
"Knowing that doesn't change anything." Vicente said, brushing it off. "Let us deal with this before a dreamer gets here first."
Umbra raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a dreamer?"
Dreamers were meant to eliminate those afflicted with the curse of nightmare. That was their purpose, their law. When a human fell victim to a nightmare, a dreamer was someone who would end their suffering. By slaying a nightmare, it is believed to nourish the dreamer.
But Vicente's next words stunned him.
"Yeah, but I do not like killing. We have you as an option, right?" Vicente said genuinely, smiling and reaching his hand— wanting his proposal to be accepted by this person in front of him.
Umbra stared at him.
A dreamer saving a nightmare. It was laughable. A contradiction. An impossibility. Yet, Vicente, a dreamer, stood there— offering his hand with unshaken confidence.
Umbra felt an unfamiliar weight settle in his chest. Was Vicente's attitude infuriating or admirable for him?
"What is with your face? You seemed confused." Vicente said as he lowered his reaching hand.
Umbra, not knowing what he was feeling, lifted a hand to his own face and brushed his cheek.
Umbra's expression felt foreign as Vicente described.
Vicente wanted to know if his lips were smiling or not.
He wanted to know if his eyes were shining or not.
No.
There was nothing.
Not emptiness. Not fullness.
Just pure neutrality.
...
Then, a sound of ragged, uneven breathing could be felt. Both Vicente and Umbra turned sharply towards the source.
A child stood at the end of the alley, body trembling, face pale— the nightmare clearly devouring him from the inside.
So, what does the curse do to a person?
Nightmares may sound like things that happen in their dreams. But this curse is different, though quite similar in essence. In this case, their nightmare slowly devours them. Not just in their sleep— everything they do, every breath they take, their nightmare consumes them bit by bit.
"Darn, it is not a typical Nightmare. It hasn't been an hour since it emerged. Why is it progressing this fast?" Umbra muttered, his gaze locked onto the trembling child.
The boy was losing sanity, his small hands clawing at his own skin as if trying to tear something. His eyes flickered between recognition and emptiness.
"What should we do?" Vicente asks as his tone mixes with worry. "If a nightmare happens to get out and manifests, is there no other choice but to kill him?"
"Idiot, who said I can't save him. This might hurt the child a little bit."
Without hesitation, Umbra extended his hand. A thick, inky darkness swirled behind him, rising like smoke. Then, Umbra lunged forward.
Fortunately, the child was not completely lost yet. He was resisting the urge of becoming his own nightmare. That resistance gave Umbra a chance to easily bind him. The black fog Umbra created surged, wrapping them both, concealing them from Vicente's view.
Inside the fog, Umbra pressed his fingers gently against the child's forehead, covering his eyes.
Moments later, the black fog dispersed. The boy had stopped thrashing temporarily— but something was wrong in Vicente's eyes.
A force struck Umbra, hurling him backwards. He crashed beside Vicente, skidding across the rough rooftop surface.
"What happened? Was it a failure?" Vicente asked.
"No, it didn't. Kinda hurts, though—he threw me despite me trying to save him." Umbra groaned, pushing himself up.
Vicente's brows furrowed. "What do you mean it was not a failure? He is now insane! He could destroy everything here!" Vicente was worried sick.
The child was still convulsing, his body trembling unnaturally. To Vicente, it didn't look like Umbra had saved him at all. If anything, it seemed like the curse had deepened. Wasn't saving supposed to make that child unharmed and at peace?
But then Vicente noticed something strange. Umbra was keeping his right eye tightly shut, as if deliberately holding something back.
"You just noticed?" Umbra smirked. "We just need to hold him to keep the area from getting damaged. Unfortunately for me, I am only a quarter of myself right now. The curse was anomalous— it spread too fast. I had no time to think about how much of myself I could enter. It is my first time dealing with something like this"
A quarter of himself? Vicente clenched his fists. That meant he had used a significant portion of his power for himself to enter that child. This may be a step to save that child but the problem is, the child [nightmare] right now is fighting back.
Currently, Umbra could handle the Nightmare but minimizing damages in the surroundings and pinning him down without severly hurting the child was a difficult task due to Nightmare's weird attacks with his long thin arms and fingers.
Worse... If only that was only that cursed child.
"I can't believe a Nightmare is manifesting in front of my eyes. Should I do my job?"
A new voice echoed meters away from the child.
Vicente's breath hitched as he turned. A figure stood meters away. The way he felt what he was was clear. He unmistakably knew that this being is a Dreamer.
If this man was here, it could only mean one thing.
[He is going to kill that child.]
"Don't," Vicente said firmly, stepping between the Dreamer and the boy.
The Dreamer's gaze sharpened. "Why would a dreamer stop me from executing a Nightmare?"
Vince felt the weight of the Dreamer's presence, but he refused to back down. "He is on the verge of being saved."
"Save?That Thing?" The man's tone turned cold. His disbelief is shown in every word he spoke.
The child was no longer just a child. His small body had been engulfed by a withered darkness, limbs elongating into grotesque shape. Three thin, skeletal arms had sprouted— one emerging from his back and the other two replaced his previous arms. His fingers twitched, long and sharp like broken branches.
And yet, beneath the monstrous transformation, they could hear it.
Soft, muffled crying.
"Is that what you say saved?" The Dreamer snapped , with his patience fraying. "How do you call that as saved?"
Vicente clenched his teeth. "Just trust me. I will take responsibility."
But trust was not something easily given, The Dreamer raised a branch-like wand, preparing to strike—
Then, a blinding flash of light split the air.
Lightning.
But not towards the Nightmare nor the Dreamers. It was towards Umbra, ignoring the Nightmare and pinning Umbra towards a certain wall a distance away from his initial position.
The strike was so sudden that everyone froze in shock.
A chuckle echoed through the night. Low. Amused. Familiar.
"Hello again. I found you."
Vicente's blood ran cold.
It was none other than the battle-crazed lunatic, Charles Vein.