The sun rose over Novara, spilling light across the streets. Milo woke, washed up, and had breakfast with Milena before heading out. He met Hirax on the way, and together they went to the Guild Agency for training. Afterward, they parted, and Milo wandered the streets before a notification caught his attention Toxifar.
"Meet me by the orphanage."
Milo sighed but accepted. At the orphanage, Toxifar greeted him calmly.
"I want you to come with me to our headquarters," Toxifar said. "Meet the Troublemakers."
Milo hesitated. "Why? I'm just an ally. I could betray you."
Toxifar placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "I know you won't. We're friends, right?"
Milo nodded. "Alright… let's go."
They arrived at a dim, abandoned house in the poor district. Milo tensed, but Toxifar reassured him, revealing a hidden staircase. The underground hideout was surprisingly organized, with members sitting at tables, playing cards or talking quietly.
A blond-haired man challenged Milo. Instinctively, Milo subdued him with a firm grip. Toxifar intervened, calm but commanding. The other members looked on with respect, impressed by Milo's composure and strength.
As they moved through the hideout, Milo discreetly photographed the members and the space, taking mental notes while following Toxifar to a large door at the corridor's end.
Toxifar spoke,
"I need to go take care of something. Wait here."
Milo stood still, waiting for him.
Milo approached the large door, frowning as murmurs of conversation reached him. He leaned closer to the crack, heart steady but pounding, and quietly pulled out his phone this time using the voice recorder.
Through the gap, he caught four low voices, deliberate and chilling, speaking just out of reach. Milo's eyes narrowed, absorbing every word, careful not to be noticed.
"...this way we'll make everyone fight each other in Novara, exploit the chaos to get into the old church in the wealthy district..."
"...there we take what we want and strike at the Church's credibility..."
"...the timing is perfect no one will expect an inside assault."
A cold spike ran down Milo's spine. This was more than petty theft it was a coordinated plan to strike the Church and throw Novara into chaos.
He pressed closer to the door, phone in hand, voice recorder on, trying to catch every word.
"…But what about the Four Guards of Novara? If we attack the old church" one voice asked, nervous.
"That's why we'll force them to be summoned," another replied calmly. "Start killing in the wealthy district. People will call for protection. The Church will send the Guards there, leaving the old church exposed."
A third voice added, low and dangerous: "We slip in with concealment magic. Kill the members inside. No one will notice."
Cold ran through Milo's veins. The plan wasn't just sabotage
it was murder, a trap using innocent people as bait. He kept the recorder steady, though his mind raced.
Suddenly, a small insect squealed from the crack of the door. Milo froze, staring as the voices inside became unmistakably clear.
"Oh someone's eavesdropping on us!" one of them shouted angrily, leaping to his feet.
The others sprang toward the door, but Milo didn't wait he bolted down the hallway, every step desperate. One of them pushed the door open, lunging after him, shadowing his movements.
His heart raced as he scanned for an exit. Suddenly, a firm hand yanked him into a narrow side corridor.
Toxifar stood there, blocking the path, green eyes sharp and calm. His voice was low, controlled:
"Stay still. Don't move."
Milo froze, caught between fear and trust, knowing any sudden move could be disastrous.
Toxifar replied calmly,
"Ah... yes, my apologies. I was eavesdropping on you, Number 4."
Milo's eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and caution washing over him.
The man called "Number 4" lunged, his fist connecting with Toxifar and sending him crashing to the ground. For a moment, the hallway seemed to freeze. He loomed over Toxifar, his voice cold and merciless:
"Next time you spy on us, I will end your life. Understand, Toxifar?"
Toxifar lowered his head and spoke quietly, reverent but measured,
"My apologies, Number 4."
The man known as Number 4 strode back toward the three others he had been speaking with, his steps firm and deliberate.
Milo emerged from his hiding spot and approached Toxifar to check on him.
"Toxifar, are you okay?" Milo asked, concerned.
Toxifar smiled at Milo.
"Don't worry, it didn't hurt. But didn't I tell you to stay where you were and wait for me?"
Milo apologized,
"I'm sorry, but I was curious."
Toxifar replied,
"Alright... it's fine."
Milo grabbed Toxifar by the collar.
"But you didn't tell me that the goal of the mischief-makers is to completely destroy and ruin Novara. You deceived me."
Toxifar stayed silent for a moment, then replied,
"That is the goal of the leaders of the mischief-makers, not the members. The members are just pawns for the leaders."
Milo tightened his grip on Toxifar's collar, eyes burning.
"That doesn't change the fact that you want to destroy Novara," he hissed.
Toxifar's smile didn't fade it sharpened.
"And what's wrong with that?" His voice remained calm, almost casual. "They lied about the Foundation Jewel for years. The Church destroyed lives. Don't they deserve retribution?"
Milo stepped back, eyes narrowing, a mix of anger and fear warring in his gaze.
"What… what do you mean? You want to kill them? You didn't tell me the Troublemakers were like this… that they'd actually kill people." His voice trembled slightly.
Toxifar shrugged, his green eyes hardening.
"Milo, if we don't stop the Church our way, it will crush anyone who opposes it. The Church knows everything before it happens… we have no choice."
Milo cut in quickly, "How does the Church know everything?"
Toxifar leaned in a little, his voice low and icy:
"They have eyes everywhere. Spies, detection magic, networks inside political and commercial circles. They don't forget or forgive. If they learn of a movement against them, they'll crush it immediately and they won't stop at warnings."
Toxifar continued, voice even and cold:
"Anyway the Troublemakers will fail in their plan and be wiped out. The leaders don't understand Novara's true strength. They'll never reach the church; they'll die before that. I'll take advantage of that to carry out my plan."
Milo frowned, alarmed. "Your plan?"
Toxifar's lips tightened into a thin smile. "It's personal. But believe me it's noble. I'll save humanity from the Church and its evil."
Milo's jaw clenched. He forced himself to ask another question, quieter this time:
"Does Lucas know the leaders' real plan?"
Toxifar shook his head. "No. He's like most members
he thinks the Troublemakers will stage peaceful protests, demand justice and equality. He doesn't know the blood they intend to spill."
Toxifar smiled coldly, his green hair catching the dim light, and looked Milo straight in the eyes.
"Milo... I am Number 5."
A brief silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Milo's brow furrowed. "Number 5? So... you're a leader?"
Toxifar answered quietly, "Yes I'm one of the leaders. The leaders are ranked by number according to their strength."
He gave a small, wry smile. "I'm the weakest leader among them."
Milo clenched his fists, his face tight with worry.
"Damn... ahh... what's happening in Novara?" he muttered to himself.
"Troublemakers... the Talented... the Church's evil... why all these conspiracies?"
Milo moved toward the exit, each step measured but his mind racing.
He pushed the hideout doors open and stepped into the shadowed alleys of the poor district.
Toxifar followed silently, his presence steady and unwavering, matching Milo's pace as they threaded through the narrow streets.
Milo stopped abruptly.
"Why are you following me?" he asked, turning slightly.
Toxifar's gaze remained steady.
"Milo... will you still remain an ally to us?"
Milo replied firmly, "I'm an ally of justice. I won't side with the wicked."
Toxifar's voice was calm but probing, "Then... will you betray us as well?"
Milo didn't answer. He simply continued walking, his steps determined.
They parted ways there.
Lucas clenched his fists, his face flushed with anger as he processed everything that had happened.
Milo found his sister back from work. She greeted him warmly, but noticed he seemed slightly upset. He placed his phone on the table and said,
"I'm going to take a shower."
Milena noticed his mood but didn't ask. She decided to use the time while he showered to check his phone.
Meanwhile, in another place, Toxifar appeared inside a bar.
In the poor district, while he was drinking, Braund and his companions from the Talented Gang stood before him.
"Do you remember me, boy?" Braund said sharply, his voice cold.
Toxifar glanced at him but ignored him.
Braund poured his drink into Toxifar's face.
"Do you think ignoring us will solve your problem? You and your friend attacked me... and my companions. Now you'll pay for what you did!"
Toxifar stood calmly, his composure unshaken, and walked out of the bar with cold precision.
As he left, Braund and his companions tried to grab him but Toxifar easily broke free, effortlessly keeping them at bay.
Braund and his companions chased Toxifar through the narrow alleys, following him into the abandoned heart of the poorer district.
The area was dark, nearly empty, but Braund pressed on, knives and sticks raised, eyes fixed on Toxifar.
Toxifar stopped calmly, his expression unreadable.
"Seems you've realized your fate, boy," one sneered.
Without a word, Toxifar's aura flared. Green, squared energy surged around him, coalescing into a massive scythe that glowed with ominous light.
"Aaaaaah! Hunting time!" he shouted, the weapon slicing the air with lethal precision.
Braund recoiled in shock.
"A... a legendary weapon?!" he stammered, trembling with fear.
"Y-You think you can scare us with that?!" he shouted, stepping toward Toxifar. "We're not afraid of kids like you!"
In an instant, Toxifar swung his massive green scythe. Braund's head flew clean off, blood splattering across the ground. His companions screamed, frozen in terror.
One tried to flee, but Toxifar was faster. In a blur of motion, he appeared before the man, and with a single strike, both of his legs were severed. He collapsed instantly, lifeless.
Panic erupted. The remaining companions scattered, but Toxifar pursued relentlessly, each strike precise and merciless. One by one, they fell, until only a single figure remained trembling, paralyzed with fear, unable to move as the ominous aura of the green scythe hovered over him.
Toxifar moves his neck and lets out a sigh. "Ah... I feel some relief now after spilling your blood."
He glares at the last remaining person. "You... leave. Seems like you're lucky today. My hunt time is over."
The man got up and ran, but his body was split in half mid-stride.
Toxifar stood over him, blood covering his clothes and face, a cold smile on his lips.
"Fool… you really believed me," he muttered.
He raised his hand, a faint green aura swirling around it, and the blood and limbs turned to pale green ash, as if nothing had happened.
Sitting on a broken crate, he whispered,
"Milo will join us… but he will hate me when he know I kill people for enjoy... Hahaha!"
He tasted the blood from the ground in a quiet, ritualistic motion, then rose, stepping back into the shadows. The faint copper scent lingered, and Novara's fragile quiet had been shattered the storm to come would not be gentle.