Somewhere in Aethelgard.

  Inside a two-storied, lavish house.

  Though the house appears elegant and inviting from the outside, no one has ever glimpsed its interior. Its owner is known for being extremely antisocial. She made no effort to greet anyone after moving in months ago.

  The neighbors tried to invite her into their homes, but every attempt was met with a cold, flat refusal. Eventually, they stopped trying and simply pretended the house didn’t exist.

  As for the woman who lives there, she has only been seen a handful of times. The last sighting was when she returned home with a newly purchased slave. A child of about seven. He had an expressionless face, his skin so unnaturally pale it caught everyone’s attention.

  But since that day, neither the woman nor the child has stepped outside even once. The curious neighbors, after a few fruitless days of watching and whispering, sighed and abandoned their interest in the mysterious pale slave.

  At this very moment, a bulky woman sat on a chair. A small round table rested before her, with a lone ‘book’ placed at its center. Her somewhat weary eyes were fixed on it, unmoving.

  Another wooden chair materialized directly across from her. A pale child with jet-black eyes sat in it, still and expressionless.

  It was Navan.

  The woman shifted her gaze toward him. His appearance had been abrupt, yet from her perspective, it felt as if he had always been there—merely choosing this moment to make his presence known.

  She closed her eyes.

  In the next breath, her body twisted and expanded, bones cracking and reshaping until she transformed into a towering, three-meter-tall demon. His irises flared with a deep crimson glow as a thin smile curled across his face.

  “Hehe… I truly didn’t expect you to come here now,” the demon murmured, voice laced with curiosity. “I wonder what the reason might be. Shall I take a guess?”

  Navan gave a single, calm nod.

  “You want the book to look at a few things before tomorrow's personal meeting, right?”, the demon said confidently, not hesitating for even a moment.

  Navan nodded again.

  “Yes. You’re right… Dufeel.”

  “Hoh. It’s been quite a while since you addressed me by name, Mr. Navan.”

  Dufeel chuckled softly. “As much as I’d enjoy knowing what you seek within this book, I suppose it’s wiser not to waste our time asking pointless questions.”

  One of his long, distorted hands slid across the table, gently pushing the book toward Navan. Navan took it and examined the cover. It was bound in leather, its surface adorned with a unique yet strangely beautiful hexagonal design that covered it whole.

  He opened the book and turned the pages one by one. After a brief moment, his hands paused. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes roving over a particular page. His lips curved into a subtle smile as he whispered something in a language Dufeel couldn’t make sense of. However, he focused his gaze, committing the scene before him to memory.

  Navan closed the book and spoke in a solemn tone,

  “I have a few guesses about tomorrow’s meeting. I don’t usually place much hope in the future, but this time… I’m looking forward to it just as much as you are. You two should be ready with the Hasardspillers. Perhaps he will want to meet all of us immediately after the meeting.”

  With that, Navan vanished from the scene just as suddenly as he had appeared.

  Dufeel let out a sigh for reasons even he couldn’t quite explain and rose from his seat. He stepped toward the place where Navan had been sitting only moments ago, picked up the book, and opened it. His fingers moved without hesitation, stopping precisely at the page Navan had lingered on.

  He read.

  And then.

  Disbelief flooded his demonic features, and his heart skipped a beat.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Just how… how is this even possible?” Dufeel muttered. “What exactly is this book? And who—no… what is Zalchys?”

  His eyes widened even further in the next instant. He snapped the book shut and drew in a sharp breath of cold air. Returning to his chair, he sat down heavily and closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm his racing thoughts.

  A minute passed.

  When he opened them again, they were gleaming due to excitement.

  “So this godforsaken prison was a blessing in disguise after all,” he said, his voice brimming with anticipation.

  “And to think we were fortunate enough to be trapped here alongside Lord Zalchys… Hohoho! If everything goes smoothly, I’ll only need to count the days before I get to see those bastards’ faces twist in horror and disbelief!”

  He laughed softly, shivering.

  “I knew it. I knew following Navan that day was the right choice! Oh my… I’m getting goosebumps just imagining it!”

  Unknown to him, Navan remained there, carefully concealed.

  As he observed the scene, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He murmured to himself in a voice only he could hear, shaking his head like a grandfather pretending not to notice a mischievous child—

  …

  Nysia.

  Beneath the

  Zalchys and Elestria stood before the

  “I think I should reunite with her as soon as possible,” Zalchys said, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns carved into the door.

  ‘These patterns… They look so familiar. Almost like the ones from the book…

  Wait… which book?’

  He frowned inwardly.

  “If you’re feeling fine, then you should,” Elestria replied calmly. “However, I won’t accompany you. I’ll return to my palace for now. I also need to think of a way to deal with my grandfather.”

  ‘Does he not remember these patterns? Or is he only recalling their origin?

  Sigh… I can’t help but feel pity…’

  As Elestria pondered Zalchys’s current state, her vision suddenly dimmed.

  ‘Huh? What’s this? Everything just became blurry… my—’

  She instinctively raised her hands.

  ‘My hands? Why can’t I sense them? I just moved them, didn’t I?’

  She looked at Zalchys. He was still standing there exactly as before.

  ‘What!? Why is everything spinning!? What’s going on!?’

  Panicked, she tried to call out to him.

  “-------!--- — —- –!?”

  Her lips moved, but Zalchys neither replied nor turned around.

  ‘Huh!? I called him… didn’t I? Wait—where’s my voice!?’

  A chilling premonition crept over her as her expression darkened. She shouted again, desperation rising—but when she reached out toward Zalchys, her hand passed straight through him.

  ‘What is wrong with this situation!? I can’t see, can’t touch, and now… I can’t even hear anything.’

  The next moment, her breathing halted—and her vision went completely blank.

  ‘This… must be those bastards again.

  Zalchys… I hope it’s only me. As long as you’re fine, everything will be fine too.

  Whatever this is, I just need a little more time. I can feel it… this situation is still within my grasp.

  Sigh… I hope he doesn’t look back and leaves immediately. I don't want him to be worried because of me… not now.’

  Elestria steadied herself, placing her trust in time.

  Zalchys, standing a short distance away, had no idea she had gone through any of this.

  His thoughts were focused elsewhere.

  ‘I can only hope my fragmented memories won’t cause any backlash when I reunite with Ceniza.’

  After a moment of silence, he was about to leave when he suddenly paused.

  ‘Why is Elestria so quiet all of a sudden? I’m about to leave, and she didn’t even give me a farewell kiss?

  I mean… I’m not exactly leaving forever…

  Is she testing me? Ahem. I’ll just be bold and take it myself.’

  A faint smile tugged at his lips as he turned toward her.

  “…Elestria? What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t respond.

  ‘Something’s off. She looks… stiff?’

  Concerned, Zalchys hurried toward her.

  “Elestria? Can you hear me?”

  He gently shook her shoulder.

  She trembled for a few seconds and then—

  “Pah! Hahahahahahaha!”

  “I was just messing with you! And you totally fell for it!”

  “Hahaha! Your face was priceless!”

  Elestria burst into laughter.

  The corner of Zalchys’s lips twitched. For a moment, he felt thoroughly played.

  But then he noticed it.

  Despite her laughter, her face was paler than usual. Her breathing was slightly irregular. It was as if she had truly been in danger a moment ago but had chosen to hide it.

  He said nothing.

  Instead, he maintained his flustered expression, playing along.

  “Come here.”

  Elestria pulled him closer and planted a kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

  “Now you can go.”

  ‘Phew… I barely made it out in time.

  He didn’t notice how long I was trapped in that state.’

  Zalchys gave her one last look and spoke solemnly.

  “Then I shall.”

  With that, he turned around and left for Cinderfall.

  Not long after Zalchys disappeared, Elestria’s gentle expression hardened into icy resolve.

  “Just you wait, you damned Overlords. Your time is almost up. I’d like to see what you’ll do once we get out of this place.”

  She snorted coldly and departed for Elysia.

  …

  Cinderfall.

  Cenking City.

  Royal Palace.

  Inside a maid’s quarters.

  A young maid clad in a dark-red robe slipped into the room.

  She closed the door behind her with care, then crossed the space to her bed.

  She flopped onto it, sprawled out like someone utterly drained.

  “Phew… how troublesome,” she muttered irritably.

  “To think the great ME has to handle this kind of Tsk!Tsk!”

  Silence followed.

  After a moment, she pushed herself up and walked toward the mirror standing near the wall.

  She studied her reflection.

  Slowly, a mysterious smile spread across her face.

  Without hesitation, she began to undress before the mirror.

  What the glass revealed was deeply unsettling.

  Then.

  The remaining visible parts of her body followed suit.

  Blackness swallowed them all.

  Her smile never faded.

  Now, within the modest maid’s room, there was no maid at all.

  In her place stood a vaguely human-shaped figure composed entirely of dense, shifting darkness—like smoke given form. It cast no shadow. No features could be distinguished, save for the outline of a humanoid body.

  “That poor Ceniza… sigh,”

  a mature female voice echoed from where a mouth ‘might’ have been.

  “How much longer must we wait? Why can’t we simply force our way out of this world and return to Lord Zalchys?”

  Another voice answered immediately. A sharp and irritated male voice—yet it came from the very same form.

  “You think I don’t want that? I’d rather die than stay like this with you. Tsk!

  It would’ve been easy if not for Lord Zalchy's recklessness and attempt to break through the barrier with his meager strength. Argh! How revolting!”

  “Hahaha!”

  The female voice laughed mockingly.

  “Meager strength? What nonsense. If he were truly that weak, do you think you would’ve ever submitted to him?”

  “Hmph. I merely repay kindness,” the male retorted coolly.

  “Whatever,” she scoffed.

  “It’s about time we appear at Jord’s place. Who knows what idiotic scheme that fool is cooking up now.”

  The smoky figure vanished, leaving the room empty once more.

  …

  Juniper.

  Jiking City.

  Royal Palace.

  Inside a servant’s quarters.

  A figure appeared out of thin air within the previously vacant room.

  A young man dressed in dark-green attire straightened himself.

  “Let’s go see Jord.”

  …

  Moments later.

  Inside a lavish dining hall.

  Jord sat alone at the table.

  Isira was absent.

  A servant entered quietly, carrying a dish.

  He placed it before the king and stepped back.

  “Go check whether Isira is awake,” Jord ordered casually.

  “If she isn’t, bring another girl to feed me.

  If she is, tell her to come and join me.”

  “Then this servant shall do just as he was instructed!” The man replied, bowing before leaving.

  Silence returned.

  Jord leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. He closed his eyes.

  “Should I risk it… or not?” he murmured.

  “Perhaps I’ll need assistance this time.”

  At once, another presence manifested.

  A royal guard clad in dark-green armor appeared and dropped to one knee.

  “Your Majesty,” he said respectfully.

  “I await your command.”

  Jord opened his eyes.

  His order came without hesitation.

  “Find the one known as—