A few hours earlier.
"I may need your help with something soon," Leo said with a faint smile.
In front of him stretched only darkness—vast and soundless—and within it, two blue eyes glowed like lanterns.
"Do you know a person named Mr. Sage?" he asked quietly. "He's the leader of a secret meeting I joined a long time ago. Arthur—the pope's son—is also there."
A subtle ripple moved through the darkness, like a wave crossing an unseen ocean.
"There's a high chance Arthur's identity will be exposed soon," Leo went on, his voice low. "If that happens, his life will be in danger. From what I understand, you are on the pope's side—or perhaps he is on yours. Either way, you don't want his son to die, do you?"
"Tell me your request," Lilith replied, her voice ethereal, echoing from every direction.
"If that happens," Leo said, "I want you to help me get him out."
For a long moment, she was silent. The stillness stretched, until he felt a nervous tightness in his chest.
Then, near his feet, the darkness split open, and a black tentacle rose slowly, curling toward him. In its grasp lay a small, polished crystal as dark as midnight.
Leo took the crystal and examined it.
"When the time comes," Lilith said, her voice a whisper that brushed against his thoughts, "break the crystal."
His smile widened. "Thank you." Then he paused, lifting his brows slightly as if something had just occurred to him.
"Ah—one more thing. Could you place an enchantment on me? Something that will conceal my power…until the last possible moment."
The darkness didn't answer. Instead, the tentacle uncurled again, sliding up along Leo's arm. A chill spread across his skin.
A sudden burn seared into the back of his hand—sharp enough that he hissed and clenched his teeth. And then, as quickly as it came, the sensation vanished. The darkness receded without another word. An instant later, he was back in the real world, the black crystal cool and solid in his palm.
He turned his hand over. For a few seconds, a small black sigil glowed on his skin, pulsing faintly like a living thing—then it sank beneath the surface and disappeared.
He exhaled and raised the crystal to his eyes. Within its depths, countless pinpricks of light shimmered—like distant stars in a hidden universe, or the secrets of all creation locked behind glass.
Carefully, he slipped it into his pocket. The meeting would begin soon. And now, he was as prepared as he could possibly be.
…
Present
Leo was watching the darkness creeping inexorably toward Arthur. He saw Arthur activate some hidden artifact—but nothing happened.
He waited another heartbeat. Nothing changed. That was enough. He had to act now.
He drew in a steady breath and reached for his domain, letting its power flood through him. Immediately, the familiar sensation washed over him—a feeling as though he were above his domain, looking down upon it from some impossible height. Whether this was a consequence of rules, or because his domain itself stood higher than Mr. Sage's in the higher realm, he didn't know. But he could feel it even here—the thin strands of white mist swirling at the edges of reality.
There wasn't much time. Mr. Sage would sense this soon. Fear and exhilaration crashed over him all at once, sharp and bright. It was almost too much to contain—and in that moment, he began to laugh. All eyes turned toward him.
He looked straight at Mr. Immortal. "You've done a fine job playing the obedient dog, Mr. Immortal," he said lightly, his voice carrying across the silent chamber.
Mr. Immortal's glare was murderous, but Leo ignored it. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Mr. Sage, smiling faintly beneath his hood.
He rose from his chair in a single smooth motion. "It seems," he went on, "even with all your power, you still cannot completely perceive this side of the land of darkness, Mr. Sage."
He had felt it in the previous meeting—the same oppressive darkness he'd sensed when he watched Alina in the Shadow Land. This place, this domain, had been shaped from Mr. Sage's imagination—and that could mean only one thing. Either Mr. Sage was in the Shadow Land himself…or he was intimately familiar with it.
When Mr. Immortal had revealed he was working for Mr. Sage, Leo had understood that Mr. Sage either couldn't act directly, or his power was so limited—or so costly to use—that he wouldn't risk it. Otherwise, he would never have delegated such a task to another member, especially in a gathering like this, where no one truly knew or trusted anyone else.
Something was limiting him. And that made the Shadow Land theory far more likely.
He didn't know why Ms. Shadow hadn't intervened—or perhaps she had noticed, and simply chosen to stay silent.
Around him, the others stared in disbelief. Under their hoods, their eyes were wide. Even Arthur was frozen in place.
Slowly, Leo raised a hand to his hood and pushed it back. Beneath it, there was no face—only a shifting mass of white fog, with two pale eyes gleaming within.
"Unfortunately," he said calmly, "I cannot allow you to have him."
He reached into his magic bag, drew out the black crystal, and crushed it in his hand.
From every corner, shadows rushed toward him, twisting and clawing through the air like a storm of living knives, trying to tear him apart. But darkness began to spiral around Leo, dense and silent, forming a barrier that caught the shadows in mid-lunge and held them quivering in place. For an instant, the two forces strained against each other in absolute stillness—like two great predators locked jaw to jaw.
Then the darkness surged outward in a massive blast, the shockwave rippling across the floor in concentric rings. Where it passed, cracks split the black stone of the domain, zigzagging in all directions, widening with a deep, grinding roar. Shattered fragments floated briefly before dissolving into nothing.
Mr. Sage rose slowly from his chair. Behind him, a vast curtain of shadow heaved upward, its surface shifting with countless writhing shapes that looked almost like screaming faces. With a single sweeping gesture of his hand, he hurled the wave forward.
It collided with the darkness encircling Leo, the impact booming through the space like a struck bell. Pressure crushed inward on him from every side, enough to crack stone and bone. The air itself vibrated with the force. All the other chairs—except for Leo's, Arthur's, and Mr. Sage's—were hurled backward across the vast chamber, skidding and splintering against the unseen edges of the domain.
In the cleared center, only the three of them remained. The shadows came on again, splitting apart into a thousand needle-fine strands that darted straight for Leo's heart. But from the widening fractures in the walls, a deeper darkness began to pour inside, seeping like ink across the broken ground. It rose in long, curving plumes and then coalesced in front of him, forming an intricate lattice of shifting black that intercepted every darting tendril.
The shadows struck the barrier, tearing and gnawing at it in a frenzy, but the deeper darkness didn't yield. Instead, it rippled outward in slow, deliberate pulses—each one forcing the shadows back inch by inch. The two powers collided over and over, darkness and shadow locked in a constant, grinding struggle that sent waves of pressure radiating through the cracks.
Leo knew he couldn't wait any longer. Every second here was borrowed. He leapt forward in a blur, crossing the short distance to Arthur's side. The shadows twisted to intercept him, but the lattice of darkness surged up in a final protective wall. Leo seized Arthur's frozen shoulder.
Farther out, the other members—now flung far beyond the clash—began to vanish one by one as the fissures widened. When Leo used Lilith's crystal, their paths of escape had opened automatically, and each of them was using it.
With his hand still gripping Arthur, Leo focused all his will on his own domain. As the power of the Goddess of the Moon slammed against Mr. Sage's shadow—two vast forces colliding like continents—he felt no resistance barring him.
For a heartbeat, Mr. Sage's gaze locked with his across the writhing darkness—a silent promise that this was not over.
Then, in a single breath, Leo vanished. In the next instant, he was in his own domain, sat on his stone throne. Arthur lay motionless on the pale ground in front of him, released from the stasis of the other world.
At Leo's silent command, the swirling white mist rose and coiled around his hand, sinking into the black mark etched there. Slowly, deliberately, the mark began to fade. The enchantment had been burned onto his soul—but here, within the heart of his own power, reaching it was effortless.
He raised his hand again, and the mist drifted toward Arthur, curling around him like a living shroud.
…
In Aclisa, the capital of the Kingdom of Magic, Hulda Kroll opened her eyes. It didn't take her long to pull out a scroll and activate the teleportation spell. A heartbeat later, she appeared in another chamber, this one lit by the glow of three massive crystals arranged around a broad table. In the center, an intricate magic circle pulsed faintly.
Without hesitation, she touched the circle with her hand. The crystals flared to life, bright beams converging on the sigils beneath her palm. Mana surged up through her arm and began to crawl into the mark etched on her skin. Hulda gritted her teeth as pain lanced through her, hot and biting.
…
In a dark room, Luciana Dimont eyes were glowing blue. Without a word, her body dissolved into mist and streaked away at unnatural speed. She re-formed in a chamber clearly prepared for a ritual. A wide magic circle was carved into the stone floor, and around it stood cages filled with living humans.
With a flick of her hand, a blade of blood flashed through the air, severing every captive in a single motion. Crimson poured across the floor, pooling thickly before creeping into the etched lines of the circle.
As the grooves filled, the circle began to glow with a sickly light. Luciana stepped into its center. At once, a swirling cloud of mana and blood rose up to envelop her.
…
In the Kingdom of the North, Count Errenor Daradia was awake in the real world again. He had seen many strange things today, but now was not the time to dwell on them. He had no idea how much time remained.
"Luis," he called.
From the shadows, a man emerged without a sound.
"Bring the prisoner."
As if he already knew precisely whom Errenor meant, Luis vanished again. Moments later, he reappeared, dragging a man bound in heavy chains.
Errenor took the prisoner's hand in his own and leaned close, whispering something. Slowly, the mark on his palm shimmered and began to shift, drifting across the air before settling into the prisoner's flesh.
When it was done, Luis raised his blade. With a single, fluid motion, he severed the man's head. Blood spilled across the floor as Luis vanished into the shadows once more, the corpse disappearing with him.
…
In the Arestin Merchant City, Victor Leon rose calmly from his chair. He walked to the closet and retrieved a small orb, setting it carefully on the desk.
Placing his hand on it, he let his mana flow into the smooth surface. The orb began to glow with a pale light that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. A moment later, it dissolved into motes of brilliance that drifted into his body.
Slowly, the mark on his hand began to fade.
…
Just as Mr. Clone placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder, his vision blurred. An instant later, he found himself standing in a vast, blinding white expanse.
Before him rose a towering tornado of swirling white mist laced through with branching streaks of red.
His gaze locked on the churning vortex. For a long moment, he could only stare, breathless. Then, before he could move or even gather a thought, the same white fog began to seep up from the endless floor beneath him, wrapping coldly around his hand.
A force poured into his body—into the mark on his soul. Instinctively, he tried to resist, straining against the power.
"Do not resist if you want to stay alive."
The voice came from everywhere at once, filling the air and echoing inside his bones.
Arthur froze, heart hammering. He felt the force seeping into the mark, unraveling it strand by strand. He forced himself to relax, letting the energy do its work. Slowly, the mark dissolved away.
At last, the fog around him began to recede, dispersing into the white space beyond and leaving only the colossal tornado spinning in silence.
Arthur remained where he was, on his knees, unable to move. He had never seen or felt anything like this.
In his mind, a single name rose unbidden, carried by a knowing that felt deeper than thought.
The Creator.