Night ruled the mountains.
It was a vast, desolate range where not even a blade of grass dared to grow. Dark green miasma drifted endlessly through the air, heavy with decay and corrosion. The land itself seemed abandoned by life. No beasts. No travelers. No sound beyond the whisper of poisonous wind.
Deep within the mountain's heart, a cavernous hall had been carved directly into the stone.
Cold. Hollow. Vast.
At the head of the chamber sat a figure cloaked in black robes, a hood obscuring his features. In his grasp rested a staff crowned with a small white skull, its hollow eyes set with blood-red gems that glittered with eerie intelligence.
A hooded man knelt before him, forehead pressed firmly to the ground.
"My Lord," he said in a trembling voice. "The investigation has confirmed your suspicions. The pawns placed beside Taurus Grein have turned traitor. They have disclosed all information regarding our future movements."
Silence followed.
Oppressive.
The robed figure said nothing. A bony white hand emerged from his sleeve and tapped slowly against the armrest.
Tap.
Tap.
Then he snapped his fingers.
Black smoke coiled in the air.
Another figure emerged, dropping to one knee the instant it appeared.
"Your orders, my Lord."
The robed figure spoke quietly, issuing a string of instructions too low for the kneeling man to hear. The second figure bowed deeply and vanished in a swirl of shadow.
Only then did the master turn his attention back to the original kneeling servant.
"Monitor the Parliament," he said coldly. "Every movement of the Saint Clans is to be watched. Report the moment anything deviates from expectation."
"Yes, my Lord!"
The servant withdrew quickly.
Once alone, two skeletal, claw-like hands lifted the hood.
A sunken face was revealed, skin stretched tightly over bone, eyes glowing faintly with unnatural light. He stared forward, reviewing the information stored within a talisman in his hand.
A slow, distorted smile crept across his lips.
"So the humans have found a way to bypass the runic restrictions on our people's souls," he murmured. "How… interesting."
The talisman ignited and burned to ash.
"Fortunately, those pawns knew nothing of importance. Their deaths will silence the rest." His gaze sharpened. "Still… Lord Pope must be informed. He has been irritable lately."
He paused.
Then his eyes flashed.
"Yes. She'll do."
The chamber dissolved into darkness.
A shattering sound echoed through another hall.
Glass exploded against stone.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?!" a voice roared with fury.
In a dimly lit chamber adorned with crimson banners, a young man lounged casually upon an ornate chair, one leg crossed over the other. His face was handsome. Clean. Almost gentle.
Yet the aura pouring from him made the figures kneeling below tremble violently.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it was to place spies near Taurus Grein?" he continued lazily. "And now you're telling me they've turned on us?"
His smile sharpened.
"I don't care how you fix this. By dawn tomorrow, erase all traces. Kill every witness." His eyes darkened. "Fail… and I'll personally feed you to The Lord."
The kneeling figures paled.
"We swear it, Your Holiness!" they cried. "We will cleanse our ranks and eliminate every suspected traitor!"
The Pope chuckled softly.
Then his gaze flicked toward a distant pillar.
"Oh?" he said lightly. "Seems a rat has shown its tail."
He tilted his head. "Come out willingly… or shall I move myself?"
A streak of purple light burst from behind the pillar, racing toward the exit.
"Bring her to me," the Pope said, resting his hands behind his head.
Two hooded figures vanished.
Three breaths later, they returned, dragging a battered woman and throwing her before him.
She glared up at him, eyes blazing with hatred.
The Pope studied her with amusement.
"My, my," he said. "Such spirit. Tell me everything you know, and I might let you live. Perhaps even keep you. You're rather pretty. A virgin, too, I assume. It would be a shame to kill you outright."
She spat blood onto his shoes.
"Do your worst, you vile heathen," she snarled. "If anything happens to me, my Lord will avenge me."
The Pope's smile froze.
Killing intent flooded the room.
"Such a pity," he said softly. "Those were my favorite shoes."
He sighed. "I was considering a painless death. But clearly, you don't deserve mercy."
The woman's heart thundered as dread surged through her veins.
The Pope of the Demon-Worshipping Cult was infamous. A harmless-looking youth, they said.
But the most vicious of them all.
And obsessively fond of shoes.
The Pope extended a flawless hand.
She was yanked forward, his grip locking around her throat. She tried to detonate her soul sea—
Nothing.
Her qi vanished under his grasp.
She screamed, cursed, and thrashed.
"Kill me if you dare!" she spat. "If you touch me, I'll cut you apart even in death!"
The Pope sighed again.
"You must be new," he said calmly. "Otherwise, you'd know… I enjoy curses. They nourish me."
He pressed a finger to her forehead.
A single drop of blood seeped from his skin and pierced her soul.
She screamed.
As he searched her memories, his expression shifted. Within her soul sea, an unfamiliar diagram surfaced.
A living seal.
Recognition struck.
"A core-spy seal of the Five Great Families…" he muttered.
The diagram trembled, on the verge of detonation.
The Pope reacted instantly, drawing a rune in the air.
It formed a crimson vertical pupil.
Pressure exploded outward.
Every figure in the room collapsed to their knees.
"My Lord," the Pope said urgently. "The diagram you mentioned has appeared."
The pupil vanished, reappearing on the woman's forehead. The seal slowed—
Then stopped.
Before it could be destroyed, a majestic phoenix wreathed in violet flames manifested within her soul sea.
It shrieked.
"You undying ghost," the phoenix roared. "You dare?"
Purple fire erupted.
"I'll burn your soul and buy humanity time!"
The woman ignited.
The crimson pupil fled, dimmed and damaged.
The Pope hissed as his hand caught fire. The flames refused to extinguish.
Snarling, he flung the woman away. She disintegrated into ash midair.
Without hesitation, the Pope severed his own arm.
It hit the floor and turned black.
A voice echoed in his mind.
Not here. Come to me once you're done.
The pupil dissolved.
The Pope stood, clutching the bleeding stump.
He dismissed everyone.
Before leaving, he spoke once more.
"If a word of this leaves this room," he said softly, "I will erase you. And your families."
The doors sealed.
Darkness reclaimed the hall.