Secrets Supplicant a Pathway with immense Spirituality. Those who walk it can perceive hidden, terrifying existences far more easily than ordinary Beyonders. They can harness such powers but more often, they are consumed by them, driven into madness.
The moment Galad saw the strange eye floating behind Old Neil, Dunn's words came back to him with chilling clarity. The Captain hadn't been exaggerating. If anything, he had left out how close such dangers lurked within the Nighthawks' own headquarters.
That evil, suffocating aura surged straight into Galad 's mind. He immediately lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with the eye, and only then did he feel a faint relief. His nose and eyes itched when he wiped at it, a streak of blood smeared across his hand.
A phantom tide whispered in his skull. The crushing pressure faded slightly.
"Galad , you're finally here—wait, what's wrong with you?"
Klein had only just begun to greet him before noticing the blood.
"I'm fine." Galad forced a smile, quickly dabbing away the bloodstain. "It's just a bit dark in here. Got a little dizzy."
He had no intention of exposing what he'd seen. Better to pretend nothing was amiss.
"You must be Galad Rondell, yes?" Old Neil's kindly voice carried from behind the desk. "Dunn mentioned you. From today, you'll be attending lessons here alongside Klein…"
"Hello, Mr. Neil." Galad 's smile remained fixed as he stared at the old man's face careful, so careful, not to glance at that horror floating just behind him.
It was a grotesque eye, lashless, translucent, almost illusory. Its cold, indifferent gaze swayed in perfect tandem with Old Neil's movements, as though it had sprouted from his very body.
What the hell…
Every instinct screamed at him. That eye was no benevolent existence. Its aura was the same as the "True Creator" he'd glimpsed in hallucinations mad, evil, and utterly wrong.
Another evil god.
Captain, didn't you say our work was safe? Didn't you say encounters with evil gods were rare? I don't believe a damn word you say!!!!
Galad 's grin stiffened. Cold sweat dampened his back.
Meanwhile, Klein sat beside him, calm, utterly unbothered as though he couldn't even see the thing. For a moment, Galad felt a pang of envy.
"…Hey, young man, are you listening?"
Old Neil leaned forward slightly, about to walk toward him.
"Of course, Mr. Neil." Galad tipped his hat politely. "It's an honor to be your student."
"Good. Please, sit by Klein."
With no choice, Galad obeyed while his mind raced. Shouting, running, confronting Old Neil? That would be suicide. The safest path was to play dumb, act normal, and wait.
"Galad ," Old Neil said as he settled, "tell me your educational background."
"I never attended school. But I can read and write."
"Ah, yes Dunn did mention that. Then you likely haven't learned Hermes or Ancient Hermes, correct?"
Galad shook his head.
Old Neil sighed softly. "These languages carry mysticism. They can be used to communicate with deities. There are others Ancient Fusac, Ancient Elvish but Hermes is the most practical. For anyone studying mysticism, it's essential. Do you understand?"
Galad nodded, forcing seriousness into his tone. "How should I start learning?"
"Klein can teach you." Old Neil chuckled, gesturing to his colleague. "A top student of history from Hoy University is more than qualified."
Klein smiled faintly. "I don't mind."
The lecture continued. Old Neil's voice was almost jovial as he introduced the foundations of mysticism: astrology, pendulum divination, herbs, rituals, Beyonder creatures. Under different circumstances, it might have been an enjoyable, lively class. But with that eye constantly shifting behind him, every word was an ordeal.
"Oh, one more reminder." Old Neil's tone grew grave. "Never pray to any existence other than the Seven Deities. Otherwise, the consequences will be unimaginable. And for you, Galad your Pathway makes you prone to encountering such existences. Be cautious. Be restrained."
You dare say that to me… when you've got that thing crawling on your back?!!
Galad's jaw tightened.
Old Neil then demonstrated "Spirit Vision," calling it the most basic ability for perceiving the unseen. He suggested Galad try.
Galad immediately refused, excusing himself with talk of poor sleep. Are you kidding? I was already bleeding just looking at it. If I activate Spirit Vision, I'll fry my own brain.
Somehow, by clinging to the phantom ocean in his mind and sheer willpower, Galad endured until the lecture ended. He and Klein bid Old Neil farewell and made their way up the spiral stairs.
"Oh, I still need to report to the Captain," Galad said casually.
"Then I'll go ahead," Klein replied, waving as he left.
Galad waited until Klein's footsteps faded, then turned to Dunn's office. He knocked.
"Come in," came the calm reply.
Dunn sat as before, behind his desk, the faint scent of burnt tobacco in the air.
"What is it?" His gray eyes studied Galad .
Galad hesitated. Could Dunn be trusted? Even Old Neil, the most senior Nighthawk, had revealed… that. Who could say if Dunn was clean? But he had never carried that taint, never shown the mark of an evil god. He had carried out his duties with fairness, even humanity.
Galad made his choice.
"Captain," he said solemnly, "do you trust me?"
Dunn raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?"
Galad took a deep breath.
"Old Neil… there's something very wrong with him."