They ran.
Razaq and Usaid pushed their legs as hard as they could. Their hunted deer was left in the forest. Their supplies were abandoned. Only one thought occupied their minds: home.
As they drew closer, the smoke became clearer. It wasn't the thin wisp from a kitchen stove, but thick, black plumes billowing high into the sky. A metallic, pungent scent began to waft through the air—a smell familiar to those who hunted, but this was different.
It was the smell of humans. The smell of blood. The smell of death.
They skidded to a halt at the village entrance.
Lamping Village was burning.
The wooden houses that were once warm and welcoming were now nothing but heaps of flame. The screaming had stopped. All that remained was the crackling of burning timber and... another sound. Groans. Irregular, dragging footsteps.
"No..." Usaid choked out.
Razaq didn't speak. He bolted straight in.
"RA! WAIT!"
But Razaq didn't care. He had to reach his house. He had to see his mother. His father.
In the middle of the path, a figure emerged from behind the rubble.
Mr. Tohir.
Or at least, he used to be Mr. Tohir. Now his eyes were a milky white, his skin a sickly pale green with bulging black veins. From his hands, black water coalesced into razor-sharp claws.
"MR. TOHIR!" Usaid screamed.
Mr. Tohir shrieked—an inhuman, harrowing sound—and lunged at them.
Usaid flung his grimoire open. "Shadow Magic: Shadow Spear!"
A black spear shot forward, impaling Mr. Tohir through the chest. It went straight through.
But Mr. Tohir didn't stop.
From his wound, no blood spilled—only a spray of black water. He kept advancing, his claws swinging wide.
"RA! GET BACK!"
Razaq yanked Usaid away. The claws missed them but struck a wooden pillar nearby. CRACK! The pillar snapped like paper.
"MY MAGIC ISN'T WORKING!" Usaid shouted in a panic.
They ran, ducking behind ruins. Mr. Tohir searched for them but eventually lost their trail.
"What do we do?!" Usaid was trembling. "Are they immune to magic?!"
Razaq didn't answer. His breath hitched; his hands were shaking.
From various directions, more undead began to emerge. Mrs. Inara with dark blue flames licking from her mouth. A small child with black electricity dancing in his hands. Priest Markus with a black light that seemed to heal the other undead.
They were surrounded.
That night, they weren't fighting. They were surviving.
They darted from one ruin to another, hiding behind piles of wood, praying not to be discovered.
Occasionally, Usaid cast shadow magic—not to kill, but to distract. Black spears flew in opposite directions, drawing the undead away to chase shadows.
But the pursuit was relentless.
Finally, in front of a house that was nearly leveled to the ground, they stopped. Not because they wanted to, but because their legs could no longer carry them.
And from the darkness, two figures emerged.
Relia. And Lucy.
Razaq's mother and father.
Razaq froze.
They were still recognizable. Their faces hadn't been completely mangled yet. But their eyes—their eyes were milky white. Empty.
Relia—his mother who once only used water magic to cook—was now surrounded by floating droplets of black water. Each drop was as large and lethal as a bullet.
Lucy—his quiet father, whose wind magic was only used to turn the village mill—now stood with a vortex of black wind swirling around him. The wind spun violently, carrying debris that acted like jagged saws.
"Mom..." Razaq's voice broke. "Dad..."
They didn't answer. They only stared with hollow eyes.
Then they attacked.
Relia flicked her hand. Dozens of black water droplets shot forward. Razaq grabbed Usaid, rolling away to dodge. One drop hit the ground behind them—BAM!—the earth shattered, leaving a hole half a meter deep.
Lucy glided forward, his black wind surging. Razaq and Usaid ran, hiding behind a remaining wall. The wind slammed into the stone—rocks flew everywhere, and the wall crumbled in an instant.
"RUN!" Razaq screamed.
They ran again. But no matter where they fled, the two undead parents followed.
Finally, Razaq's foot caught on a stone. He tumbled hard. His knee was torn open, and blood began to flow.
Usaid turned back. "RA!"
But Razaq couldn't get up. His legs were screaming in pain; his body was spent.
Relia and Lucy closed in. The black water and black wind were primed to strike.
Usaid stood in front of Razaq, his grimoire open wide. "Shadow Magic: Shadow Wall!"
A black wall manifested, but Lucy's black wind tore through it in seconds. Relia's black water pierced the rest.
Usaid was sent flying, crashing down beside Razaq.
They both lay there, unable to move.
Relia and Lucy stood over them. Those white eyes stared down.
Razaq looked at the faces of his mother and father. The faces that used to smile at him. The faces that used to say, "I'm proud of you" and "Razaq, you can do it."
Now, those faces were blank slates of horror.
"Ra..." Usaid whispered. "I'm... scared..."
Razaq didn't respond. He just watched his parents. Tears began to stream down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry... Mom... Dad..." he whispered. "I came home too late..."
Relia and Lucy didn't move.
Razaq closed his eyes, surrendering to the end.
But within that darkness, something appeared.
Not a sound. Not a light. But a warmth. A strange, pulsating warmth in his chest.
Do you want to die here?
Razaq gasped.
Who's there?
You have mana. You have a massive pool of mana. You just need a vessel.
"What vessel?"
The vessel you need.
From his chest, a violet glow erupted. It wasn't a bright light, but a deep, saturated violet. The light surged down his arm, manifesting into an object.
A sword.
A katana with a shimmering silver blade. The scabbard was a pale green, and the hilt fit perfectly in his grip.
My name is Umbra. You have just summoned me.
Razaq was stunned. He gripped the sword. It felt warm, alive.
Relia released her attack. Black water shot toward him.
But Razaq's body moved on its own. He stood up, his sword swinging in a fluid arc.
A single slash. The black water was cleaved in two. It vanished.
Lucy attacked from the side, his black wind roaring.
Razaq took a step back, his sword swinging again. The black wind dissipated into nothingness.
Usaid's jaw dropped. "Ra... that sword..."
Razaq didn't answer. He just stared at his parents.
They were still standing, still watching him with those vacant eyes.
They are waiting for you, Ra.
"Waiting for what?"
Waiting for you to give them rest.
Razaq's tears fell again.
"I can't..."
You must. That is not your mother. That is not your father. Those are merely corpses.
Razaq looked at his mother. That face—the one that always smiled. Now it was stiff. He looked at his father. The shoulders he used to ride on. Now they were hunched.
Razaq raised his sword. His hands were shaking violently.
"I'm sorry... Mom... I'm sorry... Dad..."
Relia and Lucy moved, attacking together.
The sword swung.
One slash for his father. Lucy stopped. His body collapsed.
One slash for his mother. Relia fell beside her husband.
Razaq fell to his knees. The sword slipped from his hand. He crawled toward his parents' bodies, embracing them. He wailed.
"I... I killed them..." he sobbed. "I killed my own mother and father..."
Usaid approached. He didn't speak. He simply sat beside Razaq.
That night, in the heart of a ruined village, two young men wept for their parents.
Dawn arrived.
They hadn't slept. They just sat among the dead.
Razaq finally stood up. His eyes were swollen, but within them, a fire burned.
"I will kill them," he said. His voice was hoarse but firm. "I will kill every last dark mage."
Usaid looked up at him. "I'm coming with you."
They gathered supplies from the village storehouse. Food. Water. Clothes. Whatever coins they could find.
Then they stood at the edge of the village, staring at the smoldering remains of their homes.
"I, Razaq, take this oath."
"I, Usaid, take this oath."
They turned their backs on the ruins and stepped northward.
Behind them, Lamping Village continued to burn.
By Razaq's side, Umbra remained faithful.
Where to, Ra?
Razaq stared straight ahead. Toward the tower.
"To the capital. To the place where the mages are."