Late in the evening, the cobblestone pathways of the Village of Silan were empty.
Silence blanketed the streets, broken only by the soft flicker of lanterns hung on wooden poles.
Their yellowish-orange glow stretched across the stone road like tired breaths of light.
Four soldiers patrolled the quiet streets.
One carried a torchlight in his left hand and a spear in his right, while the others held their spears firmly at their sides.
Their armor was silver metal from head to toe, clinked softly as they walked to cablestone pathway.
Each wore a chestplate engraved with a golden blazing sun Infront of it, and capes that bore the same emblem, decorated with strange golden lines.
From the back of the patrol line, one soldier suddenly halted.
He heard something, rats sounds, at first. But the noises grew louder and louder, coming from one of the narrow alley.
He stepped toward the dark passage.
Rubbish lay scattered everywhere, wooden boxes stacked unevenly to each other, and the smell of rotten grew stronger with every step.
Then he saw something… something he could not recognize.
"Argh... what is that!?" he cried out, stumbling backward.
Panic overtook him as he rushed out of the alley and into the street.
Dropping to his knees, he tore off his helmet and vomited, his face was twisted in horror.
"What happened to you, Bran?" another soldier asked, stepping closer to him.
Kneeling beside his own vomit, Bran shakily pointed toward the alley.
"Th-there… look…"
The other three soldiers exchanged glances, steeling themselves, and walked toward the alley, one-by-one.
Seconds later, they froze.
All three recoiled, their faces contorting in disgust and terror. One gagged, nearly vomiting.
A child's body lay crushed, smashed like a tomato. No face, no eyes, no limbs intact.
Everything was pulverized into dark red stains. Blood covered the wall, thick and dried into a deep crimson.
The pattern and unnatural color gave only one explanation: "Curse magic."
A few minutes later, Stefan arrived, followed by two more soldiers.
He stepped into the alley, eyes narrowing.
The four soldiers who found the body trembled visibly, their expressions hollow and afraid.
It was their first time seeing such a thing.
And Stefan could tell.
He had seen death before, too many times during the frontline skirmishes against the 'Karasan Kingdom.'
Hundreds had died in battles he had survived. Those memories flashed for a moment.
But this... This was different.
A death so brutal, so grotesque, so cruel it shook even him.
"This is the third death," Stefan said calmly, loud enough for all six soldiers to hear him. "Same cause... as if they were smashed by something so heavy their bodies became unrecognizable."
One soldier behind him whispered, voice trembling, "Sir… there are four individuals missing as well. Three children and one adult in his late twenties."
Stefan's gaze moved across the alley.
He could feel it, a residue of dark magic.
The air around them felt more colder. He barely felt it through his long white robbed like a cloak, black boots, and gray gloves, but the shift in atmosphere was clear it was heavier this time.
"Clean this scene," Stefan ordered, his voice was firm as always. "Erase all traces. We can't allow panic to spread in the village, it would only cause more chaos."
The soldiers moved quickly, buckets of water, rags, and leather sacks to collect what remained of the child.
The metallic odor of blood filled the air, growing stronger as they worked.
They accelerated their movements, wanting the task done as soon as possible.
"It's only been two days,' Stefan muttered, leaning against the wall outside the narrow alley, hand on his chin. "Seven cases already happened. Four missing individuals. Three brutal deaths. Sir Nathaniel believes they're all connected... Priest Arion and Old Loran suspect the same too."
He waited.
Minutes later, the distant rumble of wheels echoed through the quiet street.
A white carriage approached, decorated with golden linings and a blazing sun emblem on its roof.
Nathaniel stepped out, wearing the same attire as Stefan. Two soldiers followed behind him like a personal guard.
He smiled lightly and waved.
"What happened to the third death?" Nathaniel asked, nodding toward the narrow alley. "Did you order the soldiers to dispose of it, as instructed?"
"Yes, Sir Nathaniel," Stefan replied with a small smile. "Just as you ordered."
Nathaniel nodded.
His eyes shifted toward the alley.
'We need to track the source of this dark magic," he said, gaze sharpening. "And eliminate whoever is dirtying this village and causing trouble for us." His lips curled slightly as he spoke.
"Come, Stefan. We're hunting that bastard."
He stepped back into the carriage, followed by the soldiers.
Stefan paused for a moment before entering. He looked at the coachman.
"Bring us to the east entrance of the village."
The coachman, wrapped in a dark cloak, nodded silently.
Stefan boarded the carriage.
As he sat beside Nathaniel, the sensation of dark magic grew stronger, like a distant pulse calling to them.
The carriage moved past stone houses, brick structures, and high spires, and curved arches.
They turned left, then straight toward the eastern side.
Minutes later, they arrived at the east entrance massive metal gates guarded by three soldiers. The stone wall surrounding the village towered overhead.
The two escort soldiers exited first, then Nathaniel and Stefan followed.
"I can sense it… two sources of strong dark magic," Stefan said quietly, his voice tense.
Nathaniel nodded with a calm expression. "Check the sewage entrance, left corner of the wall." He gestured toward it. "I'll inspect the outside of the gate wall."
Both men moved with purpose, accompanied by one soldier each for precautions in case of an ambush or attack occurred.
As Nathaniel approached the entrance gate, he slipped a hand into the pocket of his black trousers and retrieved a circular badge.
The three guards standing watch recognized the symbol instantly and saluted him.
"Open the gate," Nathaniel ordered. "Once we're out, close it immediately." His tone sharpened.
"Do not open it again, not for a civilian, not for a stranger. Not even for me unless I show you this badge." He raised the emblem slightly to show it once again. "If someone attempts to force their way through, pull the emergency wooden lever and seal the gate, and fight to death whoever infiltrated us. Only open it if you see this gold and silver trim, blazing sun at the center."
A mark of loyalty to the Divine Goddess and the Holy Empire.
The gate creaked open, the sound echoing through the silent night.
---
A Brief Look at Silan's Four Entrances
Evan had first entered Silan through the north entrance, the side facing the dark oak forest where he was teleported and attacked by the brown bear.
Silan had four gates entrance:
West: leading toward the city of Nalion.
South: toward the village of Noya, governed by 'The Great Vellenzuela Family.'
North: facing the large oak tree forest and also the Nor Lake.
East: facing the vast plains and bordering the powerful 'Karasan Kingdom'.
Karasan was a nation known for its mastery of dark magic, the opposite of the Valen Republic's.
The eastern entrance, therefore, was the most dangerous border of Silan.
---
Nathaniel and his accompanying soldier walked out into the dark, silent dirt pathway beyond the gate.
The plains stretched endlessly beneath a cloudy night sky, mountains looming in the far distance.
Ahead lay a road leading straight into the wasteland.
A place of war. Death.
Chaos. And endless skirmishes.
I wonder if Gerald and Elenna are still fighting at the frontlines...
Nathaniel thought as he walked. Arion said both were sent to reinforce the border. If they're nearby, they must have sensed this disturbance too.
A shiver, not from cold, but from foreboding, crawled down his spine.
-----
Meanwhile, Stefan and the soldier moved through the cobblestone pathway, their steps echoing softly until they reached the stone wall staircase.
"Careful," Stefan warned as they descended into the lower level.
Down below, a dark tunnel awaited them, leading straight to the sewage entrance.
A heavy metal lock sealed it shut, a torch fixed to the wall nearby.
Stefan grabbed the torch and lit their way while the soldier worked to undo the lock.
Seconds later, the gate groaned as it swung open.
The stench hit them immediately, the foul smell of wastewater, rot, and decay.
Stefan led the way inside, the torchlight held high.
Green moss clung to the walls.
Mice skittered across wet stone. Brown, murky water flowed down the center channel, carrying with it the scent of rot.
After a few minutes of walking, Stefan stopped.
He could feel it.
Someone is ahead... a strong aura. Dark magic. Very strong.
Then a scream echoed through the tunnel, raw agony.
Stefan's eyes widened.
He spun around, and the soldier behind him immediately raised his spear, adopting a defensive stance.
"What's your name, soldier?" Stefan asked, voice steady but sharp.
"L-Loid, sir…" the soldier answered shakily.
"Loid. Stay alert. We may be facing someone stronger, and far more dangerous and stronger, than Priest Arion."
The torchlight flickered.
A black fog seeped through the tunnel, spreading across walls and ceiling.
At its center... a pair of red eyes emerged.
Red like burning coals.
Red like something alive and hungry.
Stefan felt the pressure instantly.
Murder intent. Heavy. And more focused. This one wants blood.
Without warning...
A wave of shadow shot forward, slicing through the air.
It was fast. Too fast.
Stefan barely dodged, throwing up a divine protection spell around his body.
The shadow smashed into the golden barrier but failed to penetrate to his body.
Loid rolled aside, narrowly avoiding it.
Stefan thrust out his right hand.
"Sicurum Light!"
A burst of blinding radiance erupted across the tunnel, pushing back the shadow fog.
Another wave of dark energy spiraled toward them.
Stefan gritted his teeth, raised his hand again, and shouted:
"Nurum Light!"
A beam of golden-yellow light clashed against the incoming shadow.
The two forces buzzed violently, the sound cracking through the sewage tunnel.
Then...
Hundreds of leeches began pouring from the fog, writhing across the walls and floor.
They crawled toward Stefan and Loid in a living wave.
Stefan unleashed another divine blast, vaporizing dozens at once.
Loid stomped and stabbed with his spear, but more kept coming, endless.
The shadow mage attacked again.
Another spear-shaped wave of darkness formed, this one is more deadlier, and more sharper.
Stefan sensed the danger and leaped aside, slipping on moss.
He crashed into the filthy brown water, dirtying his hands and staining his white robe.
He staggered back to his feet...
A thud behind him.
"Loid!?"
Stefan turned to see the soldier on the ground, struck in the chest by the shadow spear.
But something was strange. No wound.
No blood. No crack in his chestplate.
"Are you alright, Loid!?" Stefan asked urgently.
Loid didn't respond. His eyes were closed, he was unconscious.
Stefan immediately cast a divine barrier across the entire length of the tunnel, a transparent shield of golden-white light.
Then he knelt beside Loid and placed a hand on his chest.
"Divine Heal." Loid's body glowed softly with white light.
The barrier trembled. Another shadow spear. Then another.
Then a third.
Cracks spread across the divine shield like breaking glass.
Stefan's breathing quickened.
This fight… if it drags on, I'll run out of divine energy. I've already used too much. I need to end it, fast.
Loid still lay motionless.
If I fall here, both of us were going to die. And be devoured.
Maybe tortured. Or turned into whatever this abomination wants.
Stefan steadied his breath.
He had one chance: To strike the instant his shield shattered.
He needed a perfect timing.
He stared into the dark fog.
He could feel the strength of his opponent.
A Tier 2 Dark Battle Mage.
Strong. Skilled. And more experience than him.
Far above him.
Stefan, a Tier 1 Seeker, was completely outclassed by it.
How!? he thought desperately.
How did someone like this infiltrate the Village of Silan? The border is guarded. By Gerald and Elenna are stationed there, Tier 3 Guardian and Tier 2 Lightborn.
How did this mage slip past them? Past eighty soldiers?
His jaw tightened.
"Just… how. How!?" Stefan shouted, biting his lip in frustration.
His voice echoed through the sewage as the stench of rot and blood clawed at his senses, making it harder to stay calm harder to breathe.