Evening arrived.
The once-beautiful dusk sky was now covered by a layer of ominous clouds. A chilly wind blew softly, carrying a bite of cold.
The seasonal shift from the rainy months to summer still left traces of unpredictable showers in some areas.
Rudi stepped out of a sleek black car that had stopped in front of an old building, a place that looked like it came straight out of a bygone century.
It was made of rotting wood, with parts of the roof caving in. Strange symbols were faintly carved into the walls—perhaps markings... or something darker.
Rudi got out, followed by two hesitant bodyguards. One of them whispered:
"Young Master... are we really going in there?"
Rudi didn't answer. He stared intently at the weathered wooden door. His entire body shivered—not from cold, but from the eerie aura, like being watched by something unseen.
He raised his hand to knock—
"Come in, young man."
A raspy, deep voice came from inside before he could even touch the door.
Rudi froze.
"Huh?" He glanced around to be sure.
No CCTV. No windows. No one outside.
He swallowed hard, opened the door, and stepped in.
The room was dark and smoky. The scent of bitter incense mixed with dried blood and metal hung heavy in the air.
A dim yellow lamp dangled from the ceiling, casting light onto the wooden floor covered in strange symbols, ritual circles, and paraphernalia—glass jars with animal organs, wooden dolls pierced with needles, and manuscripts written in unknown languages.
In the center sat a middle-aged man cross-legged. He wore a dark brown hood and a long black ritual robe that covered his entire body.
His mustache and beard had begun to grey, not too long but thick enough to obscure his mouth.
His eyes were sharp, black, and devoid of life. He stared straight at Rudi—as if peering into his soul.
"You want someone to suffer, don't you?"
The man's voice was low, yet it echoed loud and firm in Rudi's ears.
Rudi flinched. He hadn't said a word yet, but the man already seemed to know.
"My name... is Daraka," the Shaman said.
He gave a faint smile and slid his hand over the table.
"Give me the name and... something of theirs."
"What do you mean?" Rudi asked.
"Hair. Clothes. Personal items. Or... spilled blood. The more intimate the item, the stronger the curse."
"You already knew?" Rudi asked, a bit unsettled.
Daraka nodded slowly.
"Most people who come here ask me to curse someone. The rest come for healing, fortune-telling, women, or rituals to gain wealth," he explained in his deep, composed voice.
"You, on the other hand… you look young, modern, healthy, rich, and handsome. It's quite unlikely you came for anything other than a curse."
"Ah… fair point," Rudi admitted with a crooked smile.
He took a breath and explained,
"His name is Al. I don't have anything of his—just a photo."
Daraka paused.
Then stood slowly, his movements fluid like smoke, yet emanating unnatural strength.
"No problem. We'll start with a small curse."
Rudi nodded.
"How much will it cost?"
Daraka smiled—more a sneer than a smile.
"Cost? When the curse succeeds, you'll know what the price is."
"What do you mean?" Rudi grew wary.
"You'll understand once it's done."
Rudi hesitated, suspicious. But his hatred outweighed his caution.
"Fine. Just do it quickly."
Daraka nodded. He picked up a wooden doll, attached Al's photo, then carved curse symbols around it. Candles lit themselves, and a ritual circle formed.
"The curse... begins." Daraka threw a red incense stick into the center of the doll.
A black flame burst—then extinguished.
Daraka turned to Rudi with a blank stare.
"Be careful. What you've started... may not be stopped."
---
3:20 PM. Al's classroom at HIHS.
Outside, gray skies dimmed the light through the wide windows. It was the perfect setting for napping. Especially during the dry season, cloudy days were a rare blessing.
Inside, the teacher's voice was calm but authoritative.
At the front stood Mr. Sebastian—history and literature teacher, about 27 years old—discussing 'Poetry from the Old Empire Era' with a relaxed tone.
He wore a neat yet comfortable suit. His eyes scanned the back rows...
There was Al, slouched in his chair. His eyes half-closed, fingers twirling a pen, mind drifting somewhere far beyond the clouds.
Sebastian gave a faint smile.
"If student Al would like to sleep," he said lightly without looking back, "please go ahead. We understand."
The class erupted.
"Sir! That's unfair!"
"Why does Al get to sleep?!"
"This is academic discrimination!"
Sebastian just shrugged, chuckling.
"Let him be. You all know how he is."
Al gave a lazy smile and nodded.
"Thanks, Mr. Teacher," he said, then laid his head down and started to nap.
But just as his eyes closed...
A cold energy crept in through the window.
Invisible to the naked eye—but sharp. Piercing. Like a presence trying to stab into someone's soul.
Sebastian, still at the front, instinctively grabbed a marker—and threw it at Al.
ZRAK!
The marker hit Al's head sharply. Other students thought it was a playful wake-up trick—when in truth, it was Sebastian's way of intercepting the dark energy targeting Al.
"Al, looks like your classmates don't want you to nap. Wake up."
Al opened one eye lazily. Then a voice echoed in his mind.
"Master, did you feel it?"
"Of course," Al replied telepathically. "But I figured you'd handle it, so I didn't move. But... why did you have to interrupt my sleep Sebastiannn…"
Sebastian responded with mental laughter.
"Apologies, Master... I needed a reason. Can't have the students getting suspicious."
Al sighed.
Then stood up and addressed the class.
"Sorry, everyone. Sorry too, Mr. Teacher. I haven't been able to control my sleep lately."
The class groaned.
"Lately?! You nap every day."
"Finally he got scolded."
Sebastian nodded calmly.
"Alright, kids, moving on. Today's assignment is..."
Al sat back down, eyes now fully open—but behind them, a flicker of suspicion glinted.
Who tried sending that negative energy here... and why now?
---
Back at Daraka's place.
Daraka, the dark magician and master of curse magic, suddenly convulsed. Sitting in the ritual circle, his body jerked violently.
"Ghh—ARGH!"
The blue incense flared wildly. One of the curse symbols on the floor cracked.
"WHAT!? Someone broke the curse!?"
His roar echoed through the smoke-filled room.
Rudi, seated nearby, flinched.
"What happened, Sir Daraka?"
Daraka rose slowly, eyes clouded.
"That boy... he... seems to have protection. Either a talisman or someone with great power."
"What? You sure? He's just an orphan kid—how could he—"
"Are you doubting me?" Daraka snapped.
"No, no, that's not what I meant," Rudi said, his tone slightly tense. "I just find it strange—but somehow, it makes sense."
"What do you mean?" Daraka asked, his eyes narrowing.
"You said someone might be protecting him, right? I… I had the same thought earlier. But it doesn't make sense—he's just an orphan." Rudi's words stumbled a little, his nerves showing.
"I don't understand what you're trying to say. Stop rambling," Daraka snapped, irritation creeping into his voice.
Rudi exhaled deeply, then explained everything he knew about Al—from how Al had diverted the market guards to the incident with the thugs a month ago.
He also mentioned his suspicion that Al had a master who protected and trained him.
Daraka began to piece things together, though he still wasn't convinced. Especially since Al was just an orphan, it didn't quite add up.
Still, there was one thing Daraka couldn't deny—his curse had been broken.
"I'll consider that," Daraka said calmly. "But we need to confirm it first."
Rudi nodded.
"However…" Daraka's tone lowered, his eyes gleaming faintly red under the dim light.
"If I force it now, I could die. If you want a stronger, more precise ritual—I'll need a piece of him. Hair, blood, nail… even saliva will do. Bring it to me, and we'll continue. That way, I can confirm whether he truly has a protector… or not."
Rudi hesitated for a moment—he wasn't used to anyone daring to give him orders. But eventually, he nodded.
"Alright. I'll find it."
---
After the final school bell had rung and classes were over for the day, the school slowly grew quieter.
The corridors emptied, footsteps faded, and only the distant chatter of students heading home lingered in the air.
Fortunately, the chaos from yesterday caused by Yolanda didn't have a major impact, and school activities were continuing as usual.
Many suspected it was a disturbance of magical energy, but just as many were skeptical, dismissing it as nothing more than a normal tremor.
In the meantime, the large hall that had shaken yesterday was now undergoing some minor renovations.
High above, on the rooftop of one of the school buildings, two figures could be seen standing against the soft breeze of the late afternoon.
The sky was dim and overcast, clouds stretching lazily as if refusing to give way to the night.
Al stood near the railing with his usual calm demeanor, his eyes wandering toward the muted orange tint that struggled to break through the heavy grey clouds.
Beside him was Sebastian, ever composed yet alert, a loyal shadow to his master.
"What do you think, Sebastian?" Al asked in a casual tone, his voice carrying easily in the still air.
His gaze remained on the cloudy sky, enjoying the refreshing chill that came with the weather.
Sebastian shifted his posture, leaning slightly against the guardrail, his chin supported by one hand as if he were lost in thought.
"I am not entirely certain, Master. But one thing is clear—it was a curse," he said.
"Judging by the direction and intent, the one who cast it was specifically aiming at you. Have you had any recent encounters with dark magicians?"
Al stepped forward until he was closer to the edge, his hands resting lightly on the railing.
From above, he could see the stream of students making their way out of the school gates.
Their laughter and carefree movements contrasting with the weight of the conversation taking place.
"You already know how many dark magicians hold grudges against me," Al said evenly.
"But none of them should have any knowledge of who I am in this so-called normal life. Which means the one who carried this out must be someone who knows me here, in this identity."
He turned his head slightly toward Sebastian, his eyes sharpening as his analysis continued.
"From what I observed, the curse was of a relatively low level, but its formula was crafted with impressive precision," he explained.
"That suggests it was laid down by a professional. Which also means that stronger, more dangerous follow-up curses are very likely on the way."
Sebastian nodded, his agreement silent yet firm, acknowledging the logic in Al's deduction.
"In that case..." Sebastian said after a moment,
"...It may mean someone with a personal grudge against you has hired a higher-ranking shaman. Do you already have someone in mind, Master?"
Al slowly shook his head.
"I'm not sure. Could it be David? Hmm... I don't know," he said.
"Either way, it would be best if you looked into it further. Since your energy overlapped faintly with the traces of the curse, you should be able to track its source, right?"
Sebastian nodded and lowered his head, closing his eyes in concentration.
"Let me try," he said.
A faint shimmer of subtle energy began to coil around his arm, flowing steadily before he extended his hand into the air.
His palm brushed the invisible currents, seeking out what remained of the curse's residue.
But after several long moments, he let out a quiet breath and shook his head.
"It's the same as before when I tried to trace it earlier. The curse is of a low tier, which means its lingering residue is faint and dissipates far too quickly," he explained.
"I'm sorry, Master, but I wasn't able to find anything substantial."
Al exhaled slowly, lifting his eyes back toward the shrouded heavens.
"So someone is trying to play a game with me. I wonder who. Well…" his lips curved into a faint smirk,
"...whoever it is, fine. Let's play. I suppose it might actually turn out to be entertaining."
Turning to Sebastian again, his tone shifted to a more commanding register.
"There's no need for you to get too deeply involved in this. Just focus on your own duties," Al said with a calm but firm voice.
"Simply investigate whoever shows themselves and report the findings back to me."
"I'll take care of everything else. And… don't tell Michaelis about this. I don't want him making a fuss over something so trivial."
Sebastian's brows furrowed slightly, discomfort flickering across his usually stoic expression.
For him, standing idle while his master moved directly was unthinkable. Yet he knew his master's words were not to be contested.
"…Understood, Master," he said, bowing his head slightly.
Al smiled faintly, his gaze drifting once more to the sky where clouds rolled endlessly above. After a pause, he spoke again.
"By the way, Sebastian… with your current stable energy level, do you think you could take on someone at the early stage of the Grandmaster level?"
The question caught Sebastian off guard, his eyes widening slightly as he processed it.
"Do you mean… against you, Master? If that's what you mean, then even if I were at the Origin Level, facing you would still be nearly impossible."
Al chuckled warmly at the remark. "Haha, don't exaggerate. I wasn't talking about me."
With that, he began recounting in detail what had happened during his time at the Virellano estate earlier.
Sebastian's reaction was one of genuine surprise. "Was the figure you encountered a normal human, or an entity like us?"
Al let out a low sigh of annoyance.
"You speak as if we aren't normal humans ourselves. Well… though, I admit, calling ourselves normal humans is still rather difficult."
He shook his head slightly and went on.
"As for that being… I can't say for sure. It may have been like us, or perhaps something far worse. I couldn't get an accurate reading of its energy; something was deliberately obscuring it from me," he explained.
"But what I do know is certain—it was at the Grandmaster level, or Catastrophe rank, if he was a Djinn."
Sebastian lowered his gaze, looking at his hands as if weighing their strength.
"Right now, my stable energy has reached the middle stage of the Master rank in both martial arts and magician classes, though I remain only at the early stage for weapon-user class." he said.
"With that stability alone, even Michaelis and I together struggled when facing Fahruk, who was in the upper stage of Master rank within the magician path."
"But if I were to go all-out… then yes, confronting a Grandmaster level wouldn't be impossible, Master. Only…"
"Hmph... You don't need to finish that thought, Sebastian," Al interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate.
"You and I both know the price people like us would pay if we were forced to go all-out."
Sebastian fell silent, his lips pressing into a thin line before he nodded solemnly in acknowledgment.
Al then changed the subject.
"By the way—are you sure the world magic association isn't watching me anymore?" he asked.
Sebastian nodded.
"For that matter, Master, I'm confident." He replied.
"Ever since you entered high school, Michaelis and I haven't detected any agents from the association monitoring you. It even appears they don't know you moved into the Virellano household," he explained.
"The association's remaining intervention is limited to your three-monthly reports to their local branch. No active surveillance anymore. Why are you asking all of a sudden, Master?" he added, puzzled.
"Ah… I just did something a little reckless in public this morning," Al answered.
"Something reckless?" Sebastian prompted, clearly not yet informed.
Al nodded and explained how he'd taken down several market officers and thugs—without using magical energy—in front of the public.
Fortunately, no one dared record it because of market rules; only the market CCTV caught the incident.
"I see. Then I think you're safe, Master," Sebastian said. "Do you want me to handle that footage?"
Al shook his head and exhaled.
"No need. Norvalien wouldn't publish footage that would harm their public image—especially since this started from an injustice against small vendors," Al said.
"I just want to be sure we're safe. I can't have the association finding out I can fight. It would complicate things and increase their surveillance," he added.
Sebastian understood and simply nodded. Just as he was about to respond—
"Ouch…!" Al muttered.
He bent forward slightly, looking like he was in pain. His fingers pressed against the side of his forehead before he rubbed his eyes.
"What's wrong, Master?" Sebastian asked anxiously as he stepped closer, lightly supporting Al's body.
"Ah… I'm not sure either. But I'm fine," Al replied, opening his eyes and blinking several times—as if testing his vision.
Sebastian looked a bit stiff.
"Did you get injured or something?" he asked again.
Al shook his head while still checking his sight.
His vision was perfectly fine, but there was a strange pulsing sensation in his eyes—slightly painful.
"No," he answered casually. "It's just… my eyes have been throbbing since morning. I guess I've been activating my dimensional eyes too often lately."
"I see…" Sebastian replied. "Then I believe you should rest them and minimize their use."
Al nodded in agreement.
He massaged his eyes again, ending with a faint sigh before responding,
"You're right."
"Basically, this is still a force-activated skill. But even with just a fragment of it, the function is already incredible—though the side effects are just as impressive," he explained.
"This eye fragment is far from complete. I suppose… I'll need to push myself a little and search for the remaining pieces if I want to use it optimally."
Sebastian nodded.
"We will track down the remaining fragments for you, Master."
Al turned around and let out a small laugh.
"You people really love forcing yourselves, huh?"
"But like I said earlier, you don't have to push yourselves. This eye is my personal matter. We already have more than enough troublesome things to deal with." He added.
Sebastian fell silent for a moment.
In the end, he still agreed, though deep down, the resolve to help his master didn't fade.
Because the stronger Al became, the stronger they would be—and the faster their mission would be accomplished.
"Understood, Master," he replied softly.
Al nodded.
And at that moment, because Al mentioned something troublesome, Sebastian seemed to recall something.
"Oh, right, Master. She arrived in Indorosia yesterday, and it seems she got into this city last night. When will you make time to meet her?"
Al looked a bit awkward—he knew exactly who Sebastian meant.
"Right… she did notify me, actually. But I think both she and I still have a few things to settle for now," Al replied.
"But in the end, we'll meet. We always do—whether planned or out of nowhere," he added.
"That's true, Master," Sebastian said. "It's just that…"
He hesitated, unsure how to continue.
But Al understood—and he said the rest himself.
"You're getting pestered because she keeps asking about me, right?"
Sebastian simply nodded.
Al let out a long sigh.
"She's always like that. Never knows how to properly convey what she wants to me."
He then patted Sebastian on the shoulder. Instead of giving a solution, he casually said,
"Just endure it, Sebastian. She won't be staying here that long anyway. Hehe."
Sebastian could only accept his fate—ready for whatever tasks may come.
And just like that, with the weight of those unspoken words lingering in the air, another day came to its quiet end for Al.
---
Meanwhile, in the midst of Makazhar City's towering skyline—
On the wide main road, a luxury car—escorted by several large vehicles—moved steadily through the city's business and entertainment district.
Before long, the convoy arrived and came to a stop before an extravagant hotel.
Three figures stepped out, including a young woman who carried herself with unmistakable confidence.
She removed her sunglasses, gazing up at the lofty structures that kept this elite part of Makazhar cool and shaded.
"Master… we'll be meeting soon," she murmured softly, a bright smile blooming on her face.
With that, the group made their way into the grand hotel—leaving behind a lingering mystery about who exactly the young woman was.
---
Three days later.
Rudi slumped in exhaustion.
"Three days. And I still haven't gotten anything..."
A quick flashback showed Al and Rudi never crossing paths due to different schedules, Al's reclusive habits, and how he never left his personal items lying around.
Suddenly, Rudi remembered.
"David... yeah. He also had issues with that orphan. Maybe he can help me find him."
He immediately called David.
Scene shifts to David's room.
David was on a call, speaking with someone.
David smiled slyly as he listened to Rudi's plan.
"Nice, Rudi. I hadn't even thought that far. You really are my best friend."
"So, can you get something of Al's?"
David turned to glance at Nayala, who was getting ready for the evening.
"Just come to my house tomorrow. I'll take care of everything."
---