Footsteps echoed softly through the dimly lit stone corridor. A woman in a flowing black cloak ascended the winding stairs, her movement swift yet silent. Her almond-shaped, deep hazelnut eyes flickered with quiet intensity, scanning the bustling hall below. The people moved with purpose, dressed in elegant yet battle-worn royal attire. This was not a land of peace—war lingered in the air like an unspoken truth, pressing down on the kingdom like an inevitable storm.
At the top of the stairs, she reached a large wooden door. Beyond it, the ruler of the South awaited.
Inside, the Queen of the South stood by the arched window, her dark maroon and black robes blending into the twilight outside. She did not turn as the door creaked open. Instead, she remained still, watching the horizon with an unreadable expression.
The woman stepped inside and bowed with quiet respect.
The queen's voice was soft yet firm. "How is your health? Have you healed?"
"Yes, my lady," she answered without hesitation.
The queen finally turned, her piercing gaze meeting her loyal subject's. "Enough to take an order?"
The woman straightened her posture. "Always."
A faint smile curved the queen's lips. She walked gracefully to the side of the grand canopy bed and sat down, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the embroidery on the sheets.
Silence settled between them for a moment, heavy with unspoken things.
Then, the queen spoke again, her words slow and deliberate.
"I have a task for you."
The Queen of the South rested her chin on her hand, her gaze lingering on the vast kingdom beyond the window. The land, once lush, was slowly withering. Crops failed, rivers ran thinner, and the skies seemed darker than before. The decay of magic was no longer just a rumor—it was a reality creeping into every corner of their world.
She turned to the woman standing before her, the most trusted blade in her arsenal. "There's a growing problem within our borders."
The woman remained silent, waiting.
The queen's fingers traced a small scar on the wooden table beside her. "Someone is practicing black magic within the South. They have crossed boundaries no sorcerer should."
A flicker of understanding passed through the spy's hazelnut eyes. Black magic wasn't just forbidden—it was destructive. Unlike natural magic, which drew from the balance of elements, black magic consumed everything around it. It drained life, corrupted minds, and invited beings that should not exist.
"They must be eliminated before their influence spreads," the queen continued. "And before our enemies take advantage of the chaos."
The spy nodded. "Who is it?"
The queen exhaled sharply. "We don't know their identity yet, but we have clues. A village near the eastern border was wiped out overnight. No signs of battle, no bodies—only shadows burned into the ground."
The spy's fingers twitched. Shadow burns. That meant soul magic—the darkest form of black magic.
"Witches?" she asked.
The queen shook her head. "No. Even the witches wouldn't dare. The White Tiger Clan is investigating, but they have yet to report back."
A silence settled between them. The White Tiger Clan—known for their precision in handling supernatural threats—had gone quiet. That meant this wasn't just some rogue sorcerer experimenting with dark arts. This was something much worse.
"I will find them," the spy said.
The queen's lips curved slightly. "Good."
She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small glass vial. Inside, a thick black liquid swirled, moving unnaturally as though it were alive.
"This was found in the ruins of the village," the queen explained. "Take it. It may help you trace the source."
The spy took the vial and examined it. The liquid pulsed against the glass like a trapped creature. It reeked of something ancient and unnatural.
"There's one more thing," the queen added. "You won't be alone in this mission."
The spy's eyes narrowed. She worked alone. Always.
The queen smirked. "You'll meet your partner at the eastern border. Now go."
The spy bowed, tucking the vial safely into her cloak. As she turned and walked away, one thought lingered in her mind.
Who had the queen chosen to join her?
And more importantly—why?