At nearly 7 PM, a knock sounded again at Kairos' door. This time, it was Samantha.
"Where's Ronan?" she asked as soon as he opened the door.
"Mr. Alden took him and Orin somewhere," Kairos answered. "He didn't say where, only that it was important."
Samantha considered his words, then nodded. "If he's with Mr. Alden, then there's no need to worry. Are you ready?"
Kairos exhaled and grabbed his coat. "Yeah, let's go."
The two made their way to the Ember Hearth Inn, where a celebration had been arranged. Inside, the warm glow of lanterns illuminated a spacious dining hall filled with students. A long table was laden with a feast—roast meats, fresh fruits, bread, and an array of dishes that made the air rich with mouthwatering aromas.
The moment they stepped in, Elenor spotted them and rushed over, scanning behind them. "Where's Ronan?"
Samantha hesitated before answering. "He's not coming tonight."
Elenor's face fell, her excitement dimming. "Oh..."
Kairos quickly added, "Mr. Alden took him and Orin for something important."
Elenor sighed. "I see."
A few minutes later, Sophia arrived, accompanied by Tavin, Andrea, and Eldrin.
Sophia smiled and introduced them. "This is Tavin, Andrea, and Eldrin. They're part of the top ten. And, of course, you all already know Samantha and Kairos."
As the evening progressed, more introductions followed. Roderick, standing at the head of the table, introduced two more familiar faces. "Serena and Elias, meet Samantha, Sophia, Dorian, and Lyra."
Dorian, ever the social one, stepped forward and gestured toward two others. "And these are Kellan and Selyra."
Finally, Lyra spoke, nodding toward the two remaining figures. "This is Egan and Elenor."
With introductions complete, the room filled with lively conversations and laughter. Plates clattered, glasses clinked, and the evening unfolded with camaraderie. They celebrated their achievement, shared their hopes for the Rift exploration, and, for a brief moment, forgot about the challenges ahead.
As the night wore on, one by one, the students began retreating to their dormitories, their minds filled with anticipation for what awaited them in the Dimensional Rift.
The flying boat sliced through the sky, its enchanted hull humming softly as it devoured mana stones for fuel. Ronan and Orin sat near the edge, staring at their mentor, Mr. Alden, whose expression remained unreadable. The air was thick with an unspoken tension.
"Why is he so serious?" Orin muttered under his breath, his gaze flickering to Ronan.
"I don't know," Ronan replied, shaking his head. "But I have a bad feeling about this."
The two exchanged glances before turning to Mr. Alden's back. A moment of hesitation passed, and then both of them looked down.
"We're sorry, Mr. Alden," Ronan spoke first, his voice laced with guilt. "We failed to enter the top ten in the competition."
Orin bowed his head. "We should have done better."
Mr. Alden exhaled sharply and turned to them. Without a word, he placed his palm on their shoulder.
"You misunderstand me." His voice was calm but firm. "We're not here because of that. We're here to stop a crime. Consider this a lesson—a real one. A few days ago, we heard about missing children at the remote village near Eldergrove. Although the guild member from the Eldergrove was investigating, they invited me to join the search. This will be a perfect lesson for you two. Real-life experience is a better teacher than a controlled battle."
He turned back to the controls and, without warning, accelerated the flying boat. The world blurred past them as the wind howled in their ears. Neither Ronan nor Orin spoke further, but unease settled in their chests like a storm brewing on the horizon.
An hour later, they arrived at a small, remote village near Eldergrove. Even before landing, the acrid scent of burning wood filled their nostrils. Smoke curled into the sky, illuminated by the flickering flames that devoured homes. The air rang with the desperate cries of villagers and the clash of steel.
When the boat touched the ground, the three of them leapt off. In the village square, three figures in black hooded cloaks stood like spectres in the chaos. One of them wasn't just standing; he was fighting.
A young boy, barely older than Ronan and Orin, stood bloodied in the midst of the fray. His eyes burned red, his breath ragged. His body twitched as if he were a puppet being forced to dance against his will. Agony twisted his features, yet he kept fighting—mindless, relentless.
Mr. Alden's expression darkened. "Ronan, Orin, help the villagers. I'll deal with them."
Without hesitation, Ronan and Orin rushed into the fray. The village was in disarray—corpses lay scattered, their faces frozen in horror. Some still clutched weapons, their grips slack in death. Blood painted the dirt roads, forming grotesque rivers beneath the orange glow of fire.
Ronan summoned his flames, striking down a hooded assailant who had been terrorising an elderly woman. Orin darted through the battlefield, his fists cracking bones as he struck down another. The villagers, emboldened by their presence, fought with renewed vigour.
Within minutes, Mr Alden overpowered the three hooded figures. Just as Ronan and Orin turned to regroup with him, something chilling happened. The three captives, despite being restrained, grinned beneath their hoods.
Then, with eerie synchronisation, a maroon sigil appeared on their chests. Their bodies convulsed before a dark energy erupted from within them. Flesh peeled away, their veins blackening as their bodies collapsed into lifeless husks.
Mr. Alden clicked his tongue. "Damn it. They used a forbidden spell to kill themselves."
As the last embers of their bodies smouldered, Ronan rushed to the wounded villagers. He kneeled beside a man barely clinging to life and placed a hand over his chest.
"Blazing Restoration," he murmured.
A warm glow enveloped the man's wounds, knitting them together. Sweat dripped down Ronan's face as he moved from one injured villager to the next, his mana draining rapidly with each spell.
The village mayor approached, his face pale but resolute. "Thank you… all of you," he said hoarsely. "But we need more help. We sent a team to Eldergrove to request reinforcements… but I doubt they made it."
Before Mr. Alden could respond, a chilling laugh echoed through the night. Two more figures in black robes emerged from the shadows, dragging three bodies behind them. With a sickening thud, they threw the corpses at the mayor's feet.
"Looking for these?" one of them sneered.
The bodies were those of the men sent to Eldergrove.
Ronan's stomach churned. Their faces were contorted in pain, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Blood seeped into the dirt, forming dark pools beneath them.
The hooded figures barely had time to react before Mr. Alden was upon them. His blade flashed, cutting through the darkness. One fell instantly, his head rolling away like a discarded doll's. The other staggered back, his hands glowing ominously.
Before he could detonate his core, Mr. Alden struck, driving his sword through the man's chest. The dark energy dispersed as the second figure crumpled lifelessly.
Ronan, still shaken, turned back to the fallen men. He pressed his hands to their wounds, pouring mana into healing them. But their injuries were severe—broken bones, ruptured cores, torn flesh.
"I—I can't do much more," he gasped, breathing heavily from exhaustion. "They need a doctor."
Mr. Alden placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did more than enough." He turned to the mayor. "Gather everyone in one place. I'll put up a barrier to protect them while I go to Eldergrove for help."
The mayor nodded and hurried to organise the remaining villagers. Mr. Alden raised his hand, forming a translucent dome around them.
"I'll be back soon," he said to Ronan and Orin. "Protect yourselves and the villagers."
With that, he vanished into the night.