William closed the door behind him with a soft click. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his silver hair. The quiet hallway stretched before him, lit only by the faint glow of magic stones embedded in the walls. Morning light streamed gently through the tall windows, casting golden streaks on the polished floors.
His white shirt and dark boots gave him a composed look, one that matched the calm in his voice.
"Well, that was easier than expected," he said playfully.
[SO YOU REALLY ARE DETERMINED.]
"I told you that already, dear." A faint smile played on his lips as he spoke to Wiz, the voice only he could hear.
He walked slowly toward the window, resting both arms on the sill. Below, a line of elegant carriages prepared for departure. For a moment, he stared in silence, the light catching the side of his face.
"Do you remember the day I arrived in this world, Wiz?"
[OH MY, HOW COULD I FORGET THAT DAY?
IT FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY.]
[WHY DO YOU ASK?]
William's expression shifted. The smile faded, replaced by a serious look as he murmured, "Whose voice did I hear back then?"
There was a pause.
[OH… THAT DAY…
IT WAS THE VOICE OF— ##%%$######$# ######## $%
ERROR…]
Wiz's voice stuttered into static, glitching like a corrupted file. William's eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"I thought we'd grown quite close over the years, Wiz," he murmured, voice touched with mock affection. "But it seems… you don't love me quite as much as I love you."
His words trailed into the stillness of the hallway as he walked, each step echoing softly against polished stone. The grand corridor stretched before him.
[I AM NOT ALLOWED TO TELL YOU ANYTHING ABOUT THAT BEING, WILLIAM.]
William gave a breath of laughter—wry and bitter.
"Well… that stings a little," he said, half-smiling. "Not who he is—that part doesn't matter right now. What troubles me is the question I can't shake..."
He slowed, gaze distant, as if peering into something beyond the reach of vision.
"Is he watching me?" he whispered. "Or is Wiz his way of keeping an eye on me?"
The thought hung in the air like a whisper between stars.
Servants bowed as he passed, but he didn't return the gesture. His mind was elsewhere—buried in doubt and shadows. The weight of unasked questions curled in his chest like smoke.
"It's not like Wiz will tell me anything," he thought grimly, eyes narrowing. [HEY WILLIAM, WHY ARE YOU GOING BACK TO YOUR ROOM?
LET'S GO OUTSIDE—I'M ROTTING FROM BOREDOM.]
"I can't, dear. I've got things to do."
[WHAT THINGS?]
"I'm writing a letter to an old friend."
[UGH, YOU'RE SO BORING.
I'M TAKING A NAP. WAKE ME WHEN YOU'RE DONE.]
William smiled faintly and continued walking. As he approached his chambers, the guards straightened and opened the doors for him. He gestured to a maid nearby. "Bring me pen and paper."
Inside, his room was neat and spacious. A large bed sat at the center, chandeliers above and magic stones embedded into the corners of the ceiling. The desk in the corner was already arranged with fruit, ink, and a silver seal.
He sat down, unbuttoned his collar, and lazily levitated an apple and a knife with a flick of his fingers. The blade sliced cleanly. He bit into a slice, chewing slowly.
A knock pulled him from his thoughts.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, young master. I've brought the items you requested."
"Enter."
The maid stepped in, placed the materials on the table, bowed, and left without a word. William wrote two letters—one in neat, flowing handwriting, and another in a different tone. Both went into the same silver envelope, sealed with the Medici crest.
He rang a bell. The maid returned.
"Deliver this immediately."
She nodded and disappeared.
William leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on the envelope that was now gone.
"The show is about to begin," he said, his voice calm but laced with anticipation.
One week passed in quiet preparation, until the estate stirred with the weight of departure.
The estate was alive with motion. Servants ran across the grounds, preparing for a momentous event—Edgar Medici's departure to the Dwarven Continent, a major political mission.
William stood alongside his family in the driveway. Before them, a grand line of thirty carriages stretched into the distance. These were no ordinary carriages; they were powered by Dwarven technology—sleek and rune-etched, with glowing lines of energy running along their floral patterns. The wheels lacked horses and instead had a core powered by an essence stone, with a small hammer emblem engraved in the center.
[THEY LOOK LIKE SOMETHING FROM THE FUTURE.]
William nodded slightly. "A mix of magic and machine. That's the dwarves for you."
[THEY LOOK COOL TO RIDE.]
Before he could respond, a familiar, gentle voice broke in.
"You're really leaving?" Amanda's voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed her worry.
She wore a deep blue dress, elegant as ever. She looked at William with concern.
"Please take care of yourself. And if anything happens, you must let me know."
William smiled and stepped forward, embracing her. "Don't worry, Mother. I'll be safe. But if you keep looking at me like that, I might start the journey in tears."
She chuckled, brushing a kiss to his forehead. "Take care, son."
William turned to his brother.
"Jealous that I get to go and you don't?" he teased.
Jack said nothing at first, his fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of a dagger. But his expression remained calm.
"Just be careful. And if anyone annoys you, send word. I'll handle it."
[HE'S REALLY GROWN IN FIVE YEARS. I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT'S THE SAME KID.]
Then came Baroness Mowbray's voice, warm and kind. "Please stay safe, young master."
Before more words could be exchanged, Edgar called out, "Let's go, William. Time to depart."
William stepped into the leading carriage—a more ornate one bearing the Medici crest. As it began to move, crowds filled the streets, petals scattered across the road, and fireworks boomed overhead.
[WOW… THAT WAS KIND OF EMOTIONAL.
I NEARLY CRIED.]
"You'll have to get used to it," William replied. "This won't be the last time."
He looked out the window as shops, banners, and people passed by in a blur.
Inside the carriage, Edgar spoke gently. "Impressed by the dwarves' carriages?"
William nodded, though he already knew more than he let on.
Edgar continued, "Unlike other races, the dwarves have no magic or special abilities. But their technology surpasses anything we've seen. Most of today's advanced machines are thanks to them."
"How do they power their machines?" William asked, curious to see if Edgar would match the novel's version.
"They use essence stones—crystals filled with concentrated energy."
"And their origin?"
"No one knows," Edgar said. "Just like essence itself, the origin of the stones is a mystery. But their power is undeniable."
William leaned back. Everything Edgar said aligned with the novel, word for word. The man hadn't lied yet.
"Our agreement with the dwarves is more than political," Edgar added. "It was made so I could study their technology. We have much to learn from them."
As the city disappeared behind them, the forest of Eternal Night appeared ahead—dense, dark, and eerily silent. As they entered, the carriages activated magical barriers that shimmered faintly around each one.
Spherical energy domes surrounded them, glowing softly as they advanced through the gloom.
William peered into the trees. Red eyes stared back, hidden in the shadows, but none dared approach.
[WHAT ARE THOSE?
THEY LOOK CREEPY.]
"Spirit beasts," William answered.
[WHY LIVE SO CLOSE TO HUMANS?]
"This forest is sunk in darkness. No sunlight ever reaches the ground, so it became a haven for all sorts of creatures. But the barriers keep them at bay."
Suddenly, a loud roar echoed, followed by the sound of claws on dirt. Beasts lunged from the trees, slamming against the barriers.
"And this," William said calmly, "is why the forest acts as a natural defense for the capital."
Edgar placed a hand on William's shoulder. "Don't worry."
Energy beams fired from hidden runes on the carriages, striking the attacking beasts. Then, the door of one carriage opened.
David stepped out.
"Flight," he whispered.
Wings of flame unfurled from his back, and he soared into the sky. In midair, he extended a hand.
"Phoenix Flare!"
A fiery magic circle ignited, and a massive bird made of pure flame erupted from it. The bird swept down, incinerating everything it touched. As it passed over the convoy, the soldiers below roared in renewed confidence.
[OKAY, THAT WAS COOL.]
"Flight is a skill unlocked at level 70," William explained to Wiz. "It's not taught—only earned."
David hovered in the air, wings of flame crackling softly behind him. The Eternal Night Forest stretched endlessly below, its shadows deeper than ink. His brown hair caught the flickering firelight, glowing like amber threads against the dark canopy.
But something felt wrong.
Why are they so restless tonight? he thought, eyes narrowing. Spirit beasts rarely neared the barriers. They were instinctively cautious—drawn to blood, yes, but never this bold. Never this many.
A distant roar rolled through the trees, low and guttural. David's heart clenched.
From the blackness emerged a towering figure.
A tiger—no, not a tiger. It was something older. Wilder. Its eyes burned with cruel intelligence, and two black horns jutted from its skull like twisted blades. Bat-like wings unfurled behind its massive frame, each flap sending gales through the forest. Its fangs were as long as daggers, saliva dripping like acid onto the leaves below.
Smaller beasts flanked it—wolves with skeletal faces, panthers made of smoke, and others David didn't recognize. Dozens of them.
He inhaled slowly.
This wasn't a hunt. It was a march.
The ground shook.
From the shadows of the forest, spirit beasts charged forward—fast, wild, and filled with bloodlust. Their eyes glowed. Their fangs dripped.
David didn't hesitate.
He gathered his essence, and his body burst into light—like a second sun flying between the beasts and the convoy of carriages. Golden flames wrapped around him as he soared through the sky, his focus sharp.
He didn't pull out a weapon. He was the weapon.
Essence surged through his hands. With a roar, he dropped into the herd. His fists glowed as bright as fire, and the first beast's head cracked under the pressure. Another lunged at him—David grabbed it mid-air and slammed it into the ground. A third came—he tore it apart with burning hands.
He kept moving. Sharp. Clean. Focused.
Up on a hill, William watched with calm eyes.
"Third Eye," he whispered.
Suddenly, the world lit up in layers of energy. He saw the threads of power flowing through the battlefield.
"That one's different," William said, staring at the largest beast. "Level 40… the rest are only 20."
As if to prove it, the mutated beast stepped forward. Its horns glowed with power.
Then it fired.
A beam of pure energy tore through the trees. David twisted in the air, dodging just in time. The beam grazed him—burning heat licked his side—but he stayed upright.
The beast charged.
Its horns aimed to pierce.
David didn't flinch.
He flew straight into the charge and caught the horns with both hands. His boots dragged against the ground, flames resisting the force. Muscles trembled—but he held on.
Then he pushed.
With a roar, he threw the beast aside. It crashed through trees but stood up again, snarling louder than before.
Then it roared.
The sound echoed through the forest like a call.
And the forest answered.
More beasts poured out from the shadows—dozens of them. Strange, twisted things. Fangs. Spikes. Eyes that glowed like coals.
David glanced toward the carriages.
Inside, Edgar gave a small nod.
Then—snap.
A golden shield appeared around the convoy, humming with runes. The air shimmered. They were safe.
David looked back at the beasts.
He closed his eyes, and his voice dropped low.
"Seventh Skill."
His eyes burned red.
"Domain of Burning Hell."
The world changed.
A crimson wave spread from his body. Trees lit on fire instantly. The beasts screamed—but they couldn't escape. Flames swallowed them. Skin, bone, and spirit turned to ash.
The fire consumed everything.
Even the golden shield cracked—then shattered.
Smoke rose into the sky. The forest was silent.
William watched from the hill, eyes wide as the flames slowly faded.
The entire forest below had turned to ash. Trees were gone. The beasts were nothing but scorched bones. The ground still glowed red from the heat.
And yet... David had only used twenty percent of the domain's power.
Only twenty percent... William thought, stunned. And it was enough to destroy everything.
He looked at David, who hovered in the sky with calm eyes and burning wings.
That kind of strength wasn't just powerful—it was terrifying.
William stayed quiet, watching the aftermath, the wind carrying smoke and heat past his face.
A small smile touched his lips.
"So this is what real power looks like," he said softly.
And for once, he didn't feel in control.
He felt small.
He felt curious.
He felt... challenged.
William's thoughts came to a halt as his eyes locked onto a crest burned into the beast's flesh—a snake coiled around a skull.
His eyes widened, and his expression turned cold.
That symbol wasn't just familiar—it was a message.
His expression darkened.
Now he knew who was behind this