"Sir Cardinal! Please forgive my intrusion! I bring urgent news! That cockroach is still alive!"
"......."
The Cardinal of Death did not stir. He remained kneeling with his head bowed before the monstrous statue, hands stretched toward it in eternal supplication.
An eerie silence swallowed the chamber whole.
The Bishop of Plague pressed his forehead harder against the stone floor. He did not dare lift his gaze. He could hear nothing but the raw thundering of his own heart.
Minutes bled into one another.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Thus an hour dragged by.
The world seemed to hold itself still as neither man spoke.
Then—
"Heh…" a low, broken chuckle crawled out from beneath the Cardinal of Death's hood.
It grew... into something that shouldn't belong to a human.
"Hehehe…"
The walls trembled as the laughter deepened.
"Hah… Haha… hahaha—"
And finally it erupted, wild and monstrous.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The Bishop of Plague felt a chill running down his spine due to the seemingly never ending ominous laughter.
"PRAISE THE LORD!" the Cardinal of Death cried out, raising his hooded head upward. His hands remained extended toward the monstrous statue.
"HAIL THE LORD!" he stood up, hands rising even more.
"SUBMIT TO THE LORD!" Both his hands and hooded face rose toward the ceiling and he began laughing ominously again. "HAHA HAHAHAHAH!"
And soon, his body began to release a pitch black gaseous energy. It slithered across the floor, reaching for the strange herbs exuding ominous aura and the human hearts.
One by one, they rotted, collapsing into pools of tar-black liquid as the vapor consumed them.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA..." the ominous laughter continued.
The black liquid quivered, then surged upward as if obeying his will. It merged with the pitch black gaseous energy and crawled back into the Cardinal's body, sinking through his skin and disappearing into him. His presence surged as an ominous and oppressive aura surrounded him.
"HAHAHAHA! That cockroach is still alive?! Of course he is! He better be! I've been waiting for twenty years for this moment! HAHAHAH! Finally, I can end that fucking bloodline! HAHAHAHAHA!..."
The air grew colder. The Bishop of Plague's breath froze in his lungs. Throughout the process, he dared not move a muscle as terror gripped his soul.
After continuously laughing for a few minutes, the Cardinal of Death suddenly stopped.
"Bishop," the arrogant and oppressive voice of the Cardinal of Death reached for the ears of the Bishop of Plague. "Where. The. Hell. Is. That. Damn. Cockroach?!" he asked turning toward the Bishop of Plague.
The Bishop of Plague kept his forehead glued to the stone floor. "S-sir Cardinal," his hands trembled in the air and the strange artifact quivered along with him, "that cockroach is somewhere in the Arcadia Continent." he whispered, barely able to force the words out.
"Somewhere?!" the Cardinal of Death's voice cracked like thunder.
"S-sir, it has only been an hour since he used his Aura. The artifact—it needs more time to pinpoint his exact location…"
"Useless trash." The Cardinal of Death snorted, and the floor shivered beneath him. "Hmph! We'll know soon anyway."
But soon his tone shifted into a calmer, but far more dangerous one, "Finally. Hehehe..." he chuckled beneath the hood.
A cold wind swirled around him, carrying the scent of rot and death.
"It's time," he whispered, the shadows tightening around him.
"Time to finally finish the mission…
and leave this wretched planet."
************---------------**************
Two figures dashed relentlessly through the outer layer of Gutudia Forest, their footsteps pounding against the damp, spongy earth. Mist clung low to the ground, and the air thick with the smell of moss, wet leaves, and the breath of ancient trees.
They weaved through dense thickets of towering trees, their trunks cloaked in moss, branches arching overhead in a canopy so thick it blotted out the sky.
Leading the way was a young woman, her lithe form enveloped in ebony garb. Her graceful curves hidden beneath her attire held magic, fair skin glowing faintly in the sparse illumination, locks of raven-black hair whipping behind her like silken banners caught in the wind.
Twin emerald jewels nestled in her eye sockets. She was truly a beautiful woman, a gorgeous woman. However, her face was set in a scowl that twisted her delicate features into a mask of suppressed fury. This young woman was none other than Jasmine.
Trailing her was Alex, a handsome young man, matching her pace with effortless stride. Tall and lean, his build was a harmonious blend of strength and agility. His hair dark and tousled, expression impassive. He had deep blue eyes that held the unknown depths of ocean. His attire was a makeshift assemblage of mana beast hides, raw and untanned, draped haphazardly over his frame, exuding an air of wild mystery.
Jasmine and Alex had been sprinting for the past three hours along the northern edge of Gutudia Forest. Right now, they were on the eastern edge. Their destination was a city on the eastern boundary of the forest.
Dawn had already broken. The eastern horizon glowed with hues of red and yellow, a soft golden haze creeping over the treetops, illuminating the world in gradual strokes, though the forest's heart remained shrouded in twilight's embrace. How could it not? The dense foliage formed an impenetrable barrier, devouring the sun's rays before they could kiss the ground. Yet a few audacious beams slipped through the leafy armor, small and large leaves alike parting just enough to let slivers of warmth filter down, chasing away pockets of the oppressive darkness, infusing the air with a faint, invigorating freshness that contrasted the lingering night's chill.
'Seems they are about to wake up,' Alex murmured inwardly while he maintained his pace.
He had just noticed that the three adventurers — who had called Jasmine a thief and succumbed to unconsciousness under the ten kings' mana suppression — were stirring. Their eyelids twitched. Their minds struggled to climb back from darkness.
For a fleeting moment, his eyes gleamed with a golden flash as he withdrew his Mana Telekinesis spell.
The truth was, at the moment of their departure, Alex had used his Mana Telekinesis to shield those unconscious adventurers from sudden mana beast attacks. And indeed, over the past three hours, several beasts had lunged at the vulnerable trio, drawn there by the stench of the ten kings' blood.
However, as soon as they tried to attack, they faltered, halted by the aura-infused mana barrier made by Alex using his Mana Telekinesis spell. Though there jaws were agape with tantalizing preys in sight, they retreated in wide-eyed fear, their predatory instincts overruled by an overwhelming dread, leaving the adventurers unscathed.
And now that the adventurers were about to wake up, Alex stopped supporting them with his spell.
And Jasmine… She knew nothing of what he'd been doing.
With that, they continued on their silent journey just as before.
.
.
.
It was noon. After ten relentless hours of sprinting, the dense treeline ahead finally began to thin. And then, when the last silhouettes of trees disappeared from their sight, a burst of white light washed over them, forcing their eyes to narrow.
Jasmine and Alex had at last reached the eastern boundary of the Gutudia Forest.
Stepping beyond the final shadow of the towering woods, they found themselves staring at a vast ocean of green. A wind-brushed grassfield stretched out before them, rolling endlessly across the horizon. The sunlit blades shimmered and swayed, as if welcoming the two exhausted travelers with open arms.
In the distance, a broad stone road surfaced from the green expanse, strangely out of place against the wild beauty around it. It cut through the grassland like a gray scar, extending from some faraway origin they could not see.
A few carriages rumbled along the stone path, wheels clattering against the rock. Some rushed forward from the north; others came barreling from the south, their silhouettes rising and fading like fleeting shadows across the sunlit road.
For the first time in hours, the world ahead no longer felt like an endless maze of roots and darkness. It felt open, alive, full of whatever awaited them beyond the horizon.
"Sir, that is our destination, the city of Shol," Jasmine spoke up suddenly.
Alex turned his head to the left. His eyes briefly studied Jasmine, who stood with her arm raised, pointing toward something in the distance. Following the line of her finger, his gaze settled on a cluster of massive stone walls rising above the grassland.
A city.
The walls were thick and gray, weathered by time, enclosing a sizeable stretch of land. At the center of the stone wall stood a wide gate of iron-reinforced wood, half open and bustling with movement.
Crowds were gathered there. Long lines of people waited to be inspected, while carriages and wagons rumbled forward one by one, their wheels grinding against the stone-paved road.
Alex's enhanced senses allowed him to see every detail. He could see the patterns carved into the arch of the gate, the guards shifting their stance in polished armor, even the faint glint of mana inscriptions etched into the hinges. It was one of the many gifts of being a mage.
"Oh, so that's the city," Alex muttered with his usual stoic face. "Then let's get going," he stepped forward and began striding toward the stone-paved road, heading to distant walls like a snake, not sparing a single glance to see if Jasmine followed.
"Sir," Jasmine called from behind.
Alex stopped mid-stride. He didn't turn, didn't even shift his shoulders. His voice came out low and plain, yet carrying an odd weight.
"Drop the formalities. We're about the same age."
"...."
Jasmine's eye twitched, 'After turning me into his slave, he's now pretending to be some saint? What is wrong with this idiot?!' She screamed inside her mind, 'Aarghhh!'
In her imagination, she was already ripping apart every version of Alex — the calm Alex, the stoic Alex, the overconfident Alex — shredding them all with her furious claws.
But she forced herself to stop tearing at his imaginary effigy. She had more important things to say to him.
She took a steadying breath.
"S—!" She almost slipped back into calling him 'Sir' again but bit her tongue. She couldn't afford to defy him. Not when she was bound as his slave. "Please… put on a robe or something," she requested.
Alex turned toward her with a faint arch in his brow. "Why?"
Jasmine's throat bobbed. She glanced at his attire, then at the distant gate where guards patrolled. "The guards at the city gate will attack you the moment they notice your attire," she replied.
Alex glanced down at his clothes. After a brief inspection he asked, "Why would they attack me? What's wrong with my clothes?"
"S—… Y-you really want me to say it?" Jasmine stuttered.
"Nobody's stopping you," Alex said, blunt as always.
"...Y-you won't get angry, r-right?"
"Hurry up." His tone grew heavier.
"Y-you… look like a…" Jasmine shrank into herself, her index fingers poking each other nervously near her chest.
Alex listened with unbelievable attention.
"Y-you… look like a… mountain bandit in those clothes," she blurted out, averting her eyes sideways.
Alex blinked, taken aback for a moment. It didn't seem like he was angry, just startled. His attention dropped back to his own attire, studying it again.
Then he looked back at Jasmine, who was still nervously tapping her fingers together while blowing out silent whistles to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.
"…Yeah. You're right," Alex admitted, "I do look like a mountain bandit."
Jasmine stopped whistling at once, though her gaze stubbornly remained fixed on the ground. Her index fingers, however, continued their frantic duel before her chest, poking one another without pause.
"…T-that's what I said. You should put on a robe—!"
"Give me one," Alex cut in, his tone flat and unbothered. His calm eyes drifted over Jasmine's own attire — a dark, fitted robe that wasn't very tight, yet still faintly outlined her hypnotic curves. "I'm sure you have a spare in your Space Storage."
Jasmine's fingers froze mid-battle.
"You… you're seriously asking me to give you one of my robes? Do you not have a shred of shame?" she demanded, looking straight into Alex's eyes.
That was what she said out loud. However, what she really wanted to say was, 'You shameless, degenerate, perverted monkey! How dare you ask for my clothes?! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BARBARIC ANIMAAAAAL!'
But soon, her internal outbust came to a halt.
"Yeah," Alex replied with absolute seriousness, "Because I have nothing on me except the clothes I'm wearing and my sword."
His left palm rested casually on what should have been the hilt of his dull-bone sword. In truth, there was no proper hilt at all, no guard, no crafted handle, nothing. His hand simply gripped the exposed tang — a thick, elongated piece of bone extended from the main body of the sword — sturdy enough to serve as a handle. Despite its crude design, Alex held it as naturally as if it were a finely forged blade.
"....."
Jasmine was struck speechless.
'Did I… did I try to rob a beggar earlier?' The Humiliation crept up her spine. 'I tried to rob a man who literally owns nothing...' A hot wave of embarrassment washed over her inner self, followed immediately by explosive rage.
Her hands curled into fists. Her teeth gritted behind her lips. 'This means… I have to provide for this bastard. Aaargh! DAMN IIIIIT!'
But she knew there was no way around it. She had to obey him.
Jasmine placed her palm before her Space Storage, Mana swirling faintly as she materialized a spare dark robe into the air. Trembling with frustration, she handed it to Alex.
He noticed her fury, but said nothing. He simply took the robe and put it on.
"Let's go," Alex said, already walking toward the city gate.
Jasmine remained rooted in place for a moment, swallowing her resentment.
Then, with stiff steps and a reluctant heart, she followed him.