Crossing from the Material Real to the Death Realm was like her heart stopped, falling into complete stillness. It wasn’t cold, nor hot, the rays of light losing their color, encasing the Realm under a grayish aura.

She wasn’t completely in the unknown, as far as the Death Realm went, having spoken with Skugol several times, who, being a follower of the Goddess of Death, called forth his powers from this same place.

The Death Realm under the Mergifari was lacking in human souls, and Skugol had complained about it, yet, that was normal. Mages didn’t leave a soul behind after dying, and almost all the human population inside the Mergifari were mages.

The ones who weren’t… probably weren’t here by choice, and their souls were used in experiments, which in turn also prevented them from filling the Realm. But, the Death Realm not only existed to contain human souls, but plants and animals too.

And, just like Skugol mentioned, the air here tasted sweet, just like the translucent, mist-like flowers that spawned over the ground and thorny vines.

Not like Velvet could taste the ghost flowers, since her Paradigm didn’t support her in manipulating or handling spirits, but she smelled the sugary air. It had a slight thickness to it, even when that made no sense, being just residual ghostly particles that she was breathing in.

Those would be dangerous for a human, since they could affect the soul, but not for a mage, since their own Esca erased them. Even so, they were annoying to breathe, and the constant sweetness was slowly getting nauseatingly saccharine.

Kinda explains why Skogul always smelled sweet, like his corpses… I thought it was some product he used to conserve the bodies. Or some perfume to mask the smell of decay.

Cardomos was nowhere to be seen, but the sound of rustling vines signaled the path he had taken, now closing off behind him.

He must’ve gone to rest. With a curse like that, I doubt he can be active for a long time. Mages were prideful, and someone like him, who wasn’t only an Archmage, but an ex-Inquisitor, even more. It made sense that he avoided showing vulnerability, and in front of a mage nonetheless.

He doesn’t trust me, but the fact that I’m here under the Director’s orders means that he can’t do much more than pass trial upon me, which he already did. Besides, she was sure that, if Cardomos was so unreasonable that he killed every mage that entered, the Prophet would’ve searched for a way to make the Director bruteforce entry.

Even if right now the Corruption of Fate was hiding the exact location of the pocket dimension, it probably wouldn’t do the same if it guaranteed its removal.

The feeling of something cold caressing the skin on her neck stopped her musings, as she jumped away. A floating figure, its shape made of gray mist, the upper part like a human silhouette, and the lower part extending in a dress-like fashion, gradually disappearing.

Lacking in human souls didn’t mean being completely devoid of them, with everything that so entailed. Wraiths, ghosts, poltergeists…

Fortunately, the Mergifari’s isolation from other places meant that there was zero chance of her crossing big undead phenomena like the Wild Hunt, where ghosts of warriors and soldiers kept fighting their last battles, usually crossing into the Material Realm, especially on places where wars happened or were happening.

Velvet knew about it because it was one of the many phenomena that happened across the Charlampian seas, forcing sailors to reroute their ship’s courses.

That didn’t mean that she knew how to deal with ghosts; in fact, since they usually haunted places or objects, avoiding them was the way she had always done. Not only her, but most Charlampians, since they were used to the Whispering Sea being filled with ghosts.

That’s why when that mage working for the Tarius dropped a wraith and then a cursed mirror on her hut, she chose to remove and store them in containers, and not handle them directly.

And then Skogul’s presence had made her feel safe on that front, since most of her enemies were fellow mages that she could hurt by normal means, with the majority of them not employing undead.

What Velvet wanted to say by that, was that she was a bad, unprepared match against most beings inside the Death Realm. Partly because of her Paradigm, partly because of her circumstances.

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Better be careful, then. The thing that touched her was a normal ghost. A lost soul, with something left to do from when it was alive, but pretty harmless otherwise.

Taking another step away from it, she walked into the vine-made forest, following the path she remembered from her dream, listening in passing to the whispers coming from nowhere in particular, yet feeling as if the speaker was right behind her.

Hyde called this language Nekromnisikakia, didn’t he? The voice of the wronged dead.

“What are they saying?” She asked. It would be nice to know if something dangerous was lurking in the surroundings, after all.

But then Hyde didn’t answer her.

“Hyde?” Sending a slightly stronger signal, she poked him.

“... Hm? O-oh, yes, what did you say?”

“... If you don’t want to act as a translator, teach me Nekromnisikakia.”

“It’s not that easy. It’s a language based on emotions, not on words… I can understand it because I’m a demon, but you, as a knowledge mage, with a Paradigm branching from the Apathy, have a hard time understanding and processing others’ feelings and emotions.”

“Is that so?” Scratching the annoying goosebumps crawling up her neck, she continued. “By the way, I got a scratch on my leg from before. Care to patch it up?”

“Sure.” The scrapping rustle over her hat told her that Hyde was out, climbing down, hanging by a thin, golden thread. “Where did yo- Hey!”

“Gotcha.” Grabbing him like a crab, from behind, as to not get bitten, she caught the spider in her hand, looking at it. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged out.”

“It certainly was no cat, for cats do have a semblance of cuteness over them.”

“Hahaha.” She laughed, the smile not fully reaching her eyes. “Someone woke up and chose to be a jester, hm? Are the Ropertti’s hiring? Is the Hell Circus in town? Tell me, what are you hiding now?”

Watching how Hyde’s eight eyes looked to the side, and then back at her, she squinted. “Both mages and demons have their own secrets, and I deserve some privacy.”

“Do you now?”

“If you suspect me for being a fake, like what happened in the past, you can ask me anything you want to know, even your full name.”

“Anything?”

“Anything that I should know.”

“Seems fair.” She said, grinning. “So, how did you know that I could pass Erin Cardomos’ Embodiment?”

Hyde didn't hesitate. “Same way you did, by listening to the Prophet’s words, which you showed me. If Cardomos had instantly killed the intruding mages, the Prophet’s orders would’ve been different.”

“What a nice answer, did you come out with it prepared? You know what I mean. Killing is only one ending. Cardomos could have broken my Esca, or permanently injured me. If you were the Hyde I know, your instructions would’ve been to first, get away from him, and then process once I saw what the spell did.”

She didn’t miss Hyde’s flinch, yet continued. “But, and, quoting you, ‘Don’t. You can pass his trial. You already defeated them once, didn’t you?’ as if you already knew what he was going to do.”

“And, if I remember your teachings correctly, which I do, mind you, down to the last, smallest, meaninglest detail, a knowledge mage never should act rashly. Information comes first, second and third. Aaaand, if I remember all of Madam Dorna’s history classes, none of them mention Cardomos’ Embodiment. I didn’t even know what an Embodiment was back then, you see, history books don't bother with that.”

“Now, I don't think you suddenly acted rashly for the commitment to the bit. But instead, you already knew what the spell did from beforehand. We of the Knowledge Paradigm tend to act rashly when we know what to expect, r-i-g-h-t?”

“... You’re enjoying playing detective a bit too much, aren't you?”

“You have no idea, Iren Doyle wishes he were me. Now, stop interrupting.”

“I'd rather confess already.”

“No you don’t. Shush. So, for you to know of his spell beforehand, someone who had already seen it should’ve told you, but not me.” Raising the spider until it reached her face, Velvet continued. “Our local sleeping beauty, Dianthus, is currently indisposed, so it can’t be him. Cardomos likes demons as much as mages, which is not, so I doubt he invited you to a telepathic tea party.”

Finally grabbing hold of a thin mental link, going from Hyde to the demon’s pocket dimension, Velvet tugged at it, forcing a connection.

“That leaves our own uninvited guest to my mental tea party. Hello, Corruption.”