BOOOMMM!!
The explosion rocked the earth, tearing through the air with a force almost beyond comprehension. The forest not far from Leymora—once lush and dense—was now split apart by a massive gaping chasm, like an ancient wound carved into the land. Smoke still rose in the distance. Trees had been uprooted. The ground cracked open. The air reeked of something burnt… and something else, unidentifiable.
Dozens of meters away, a group of soldiers and adventurers arrived—only to stop short, their breaths caught at the sight before them. Not a single living soul in view. Only silence… and the lingering mark of a power no normal human should possess.
"What kind of monster… could unleash something like this?" murmured an old man, his hands trembling as he touched the scorched earth.
"Or maybe—" a young man beside him cut in, "this was a natural disaster? Or… something worse?"
"I heard Prince Elion has arrived in Leymora," added a lightly armored woman, a bow strapped to her back. "This started right after he showed up. Let's hope that's just a coincidence."
The sun was setting over the horizon, painting the sky a somber orange. Far from town, in a hidden cave shielded from watchful eyes, a soft green light from crystal stones reflected faintly across the rocky walls.
Zeo opened his eyes slowly. A sharp, heavy breath escaped his dry lips. His head was still spinning, and his chest felt like it was weighed down by stone. He pushed himself up, back against the cave wall, vision gradually focusing. A surge of panic struck his chest.
"Alice… Ravyn…" he whispered, voice cracked.
It was faint, but heavy with worry. One by one, the figures he mentioned came into view.
Alice and Ravyn were lying on the ground nearby, unconscious but otherwise in decent condition. Fael still lay unconscious, body stiff, though his breathing was steady. Guillard looked pale, his broken leg wrapped in crude cloth. Miza sat with a faint cold aura surrounding her—her arms bruised and bleeding, skin tinted blue in places from the lingering aftereffects of battle.
And Kozmo…
Zeo crawled closer to his ifrit companion. Kozmo, now dimmed in his semi-physical form, lay still. Smoke curled from his body, his once-glossy lava-like skin now cracked, brittle, blackened—as if he had burned from the inside out.
"Why… did this happen…" Zeo whispered, voice shaking. He gripped Kozmo's hand—still warm, but weakening.
The image of the explosion surged through his mind again. Rafa… that strange man with divine energy who had suddenly appeared alongside that mysterious woman. They were dangerous—far more than he'd expected.
He remembered Rafa lifting that sword. A blinding holy light erupted from the blade. The aura was suffocating—like the heavens were pressing down. Zeo had thought he had the upper hand after turning the tide and driving their enemies back. But he never expected a skill of that scale. He dashed in, trying to block, even divert the deadly swing.
And he had succeeded… partially. Or rather, just enough to keep his team alive.
The chasm left behind still scarred the land. The forest was ruined. But if he hadn't acted in that moment…
"What a devastating attack…" he muttered, breath catching in his throat.
He stared down at his hands—shaking, stained with dried blood. He bit his lip. Not from pain, but from the guilt clawing at his chest. He'd toyed with Erik's poison, set long-term traps, tried to manipulate his opponents mentally… but that strategy blinded him. He failed to notice the real danger. Those two—Rafa and the woman—had completely turned the tide, nearly annihilating his entire team.
Who were they?
Zeo looked up toward the cave's roof, where orange light filtered through a narrow crevice. The sunset glinted off his face. His eyes burned—not from the light, but from something far deeper.
"I'm sorry."
His fists clenched tight.
In the distance, the wind howled with the scent of rain. The evening dimmed further. But within the shadows of the cave, something began to flicker in Zeo's gaze—a spark of resolve.
"Why do they seem to hate the djinn race so much… when they are actually… ***" Zeo murmured, voice low.
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Dust still clung to their clothes. The faint smell of smoke lingered from the scorched trees in the distance. What was once a lush green forest had become a wasteland—all from a single swing of a holy sword. And inside that damp, dim cave, Zeo knelt, checking one by one the companions who'd barely escaped death.
Their wagon was gone. So were all the supplies. But that wasn't what weighed on Zeo's heart—it was the injuries carved into the people who'd stood by his side.
He knelt beside Kozmo, whose body now seemed to be decaying, corroded by divine energy. The ifrit, once burning brightly with molten stone and flame, now barely clung to life. Zeo gently pressed his trembling hand against Kozmo's burning, cracked chest.
"…You saved us all," Zeo whispered.
Slowly, he placed his palm firmly on Kozmo's chest. A soft golden-blue light glowed from Zeo's body. It was a mysterious technique he had unknowingly learned during his two years of surviving the deadly mist—when his body had nearly rotted, and his soul had teetered on the edge of the void.
The light enveloped Kozmo, flowing into the fractures across his body, binding his fading flame, sewing his spirit back together. Kozmo opened his eyes—dim, but alive.
"Master… you're safe…" he breathed weakly.
Zeo shook his head gently. "No need to speak. Just recover."
Kozmo nodded faintly. The flames in his body dimmed. His form gradually shrank until he became a small carved pendant of flame, now hanging around Zeo's neck.
Zeo exhaled—long and deep. Then he turned toward Alice, who was beginning to stir. Her breathing was labored, her skin pale and drenched in sweat.
"M-Mr. Zeo… what happened…" Alice asked, voice dry.
Zeo, still sitting, turned to face her. His eyes were distant… cold… as if something inside him had shattered since the explosion.
Zeo explained everything—what Erik had done, how they were poisoned, and the arrival of those two terrifying enemies.
"WHAT?!" Alice tried to sit up, but half her body was still paralyzed. Her eyes widened, breath hitching. "No… it can't be… Erik…?"
Zeo said nothing. Their eyes met. In that silence, Alice saw something in Zeo's gaze—something broken.
She lowered her head. A stiffness crept into her limbs. Her mind began connecting the dots—internal poison, tampered food. And of the only three who had cooked, Guillard and Fael were bound by magical slave seals under Zeo's control. That left only one possible culprit…
"…How could Erik…?" Alice whispered.
Zeo didn't respond. Only said quietly, "It's fine if you don't believe me. What matters now… is that you're all safe."
Silence.
The sound of dripping water echoed louder than usual in the cave—as if marking a wound that words alone couldn't heal.
Zeo slowly stood. His body trembled, but he looked at Alice with a soft gaze.
"Take care of them. I'll go find food for the night."
Alice eyed Zeo's still-wounded body, concern flooding her face.
"I should go instead, Master Zeo. I'm in better shape—"
"No. Your role is protection, right? Stay here. Guard them." Zeo said, forcing a small smile.
Alice clenched her teeth, swallowing the guilt and anger churning inside. But she nodded, slowly. "…Understood, Master Zeo."
Zeo walked slowly out of the cave. The evening air greeted him with a cold bite. The sky was ablaze in red, as if reflecting the wounds now carved into Leymora's soil.
But it wasn't over yet.
The symbol on Zeo's back—the one that had formed after his encounter with the agent in the Forbidden Mist two years ago—began to throb once more. It burned hot, like fire from within, as if something was calling to him… summoning him.
Zeo froze. His breath caught. Without thinking, his hand reached toward his back, trying to soothe the strange sting.
"What is this…" he whispered.
With weak but steady steps, Zeo walked deeper into the dark forest. The leaves made no sound. Even the wind held its breath. As if the forest knew—tonight, it wasn't just wild beasts wandering between the trees…
…but someone carrying the mark of ruin… and a destiny yet to be written.
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