“Velara, glad to have you back!” A woman seated in the third chair greeted cheerfully, her voice laced with a seductive charm that seemed too youthful for her apparent age. The way she spoke hinted at a playful yet dangerous nature, one that could easily ensnare the unsuspecting.
The woman was Francea Renaes, the third-ranked council member of SIN. Once a noble, she had destroyed her own family in pursuit of forbidden magic, and now she wielded terrifying power in necromancy and darkness magic. Her medium-length, fiery dark red hair framed her face as she sat with one leg crossed over the other, clad in a sleek red robe adorned with golden accents.
Her attire, expensive and elegant, clashed starkly with her affinity for necromancy, a contrast that often led others to underestimate her—a mistake few lived to regret.
From her alluring voice to her carefully crafted appearance, Francea was the embodiment of deceit and manipulation. To the untrained eye, she was the epitome of beauty, the perfect sculpture of a woman. But to those who knew better, she was a deadly force, her extraordinary magical skills only amplifying the danger she posed.
“Francea… please stop talking to me with that annoying voice,” Velara responded with a warning edge to her tone. “Maybe I should cut that tongue out like I should have done long ago.”
“Hahaha, I thought you loved my voice,” Francea teased, leaning forward in her seat toward Velara. “Besides, almost everyone here talks like you, so I want to be different, you know?”
“Then tone it down a little, at least when our priestess is here,” came a tired voice from the man seated in the fifth chair.
This was Faris Salirin, the fifth-ranked council member of SIN. Unlike the others, Faris lacked extraordinary physical strength or destructive power. However, his intellect more than compensated for it.
A young man with a brilliant mind, he wore a white scientist's robe, and his vivid blue hair, disheveled and covering one eye, gave him an air of exhaustion. The dark bluish circles under his eyes further emphasized his lack of sleep.
Faris was a genius in magic engineering and scientific development. Despite being young, his work had propelled the organization’s technology far beyond that of many of the world’s largest nations.
His discoveries were the backbone of SIN’s technological superiority, making up for their lack of manpower with advanced innovations.
“Boo, I don’t want to be like you all dried up like that,” Francea said to faris. “I mean it’s clear, you and I are polar opposites, and I never want to be like you.”
Slumped over the table like a lazy student, Faris spoke without lifting his head. “Well, it’s not like you can be me even if you try. You just don’t have the brain for it.”
Francea’s eyes darkened at the insult. Her voice dropped to a chilling tone as she replied, “Oh, the little boy knows how to bark now, huh? Maybe I should take you out and teach you some tricks, you know? Like a dog.”
Faris, now looking directly at her, his weariness momentarily forgotten, responded with equal venom. “If a mind like mine is a dog, then you’re a worm. Maybe a beautiful worm, but still a worm nonetheless.”
The tension between the two was palpable, their mutual disdain threatening to explode. It was clear that their differences often led to volatile situations. Both of them were powerful in their own right, but completely opposite in nature.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Enough,” the man in the first seat commanded, his voice heavy with authority, exerting a pressure that instantly silenced the room. The force of his presence was suffocating, dwarfing the tension between Francea and Faris. “No more childish fighting. The next one to speak out of turn will face a duel with me.”
Both Francea and Faris fell silent immediately. They knew better than to challenge Reus De Arana, the first-ranked member of SIN and the strongest in the organization. His body, scarred and battle-hardened, bore the marks of countless conflicts, and his expression was that of a seasoned warrior—though the term “hero” was far from the truth of his identity.
With darkened silver hair and a demeanor that radiated command, Reus sat with his arms crossed, glaring at Francea and Faris. Neither dared to meet his gaze, their earlier bravado evaporating under his threat.
“Velara, give us your report on the battlefield,” Reus ordered, turning his attention to her.
“Of course,” Velara replied, producing a device from her side and placing it on the table. With a touch, the device activated, projecting a holographic map of the battlefield onto the center of the circular table.
Ren, who had remained in the shadows, watched as the map took shape. He recognized it immediately—it was the battlefield layout from the game, one he had seen countless times. The town’s structure, the soldiers’ formations, the tents, and even the positions of key figures were all familiar to him.
“Well, all that time spent searching for hidden events in this town… wasted,” Ren sighed internally, recalling how the developers had never included any in the beginner town in the first place.
The map shifted, displaying various scenes from the battlefield. The council members studied it with different expressions, but something felt off to Ren.
“Their expressions… it’s like this battle wasn’t part of their plan,” Ren thought, just moments before Reus voiced his concerns.
“This wasn’t in our plan at all,” Reus said firmly. “There should have been no unknown variables in our grand plan.”
“There’s no problem with our plan,” Velara countered. “This wasn’t the work of any known nation or organization that we’re aware of.”
“We even checked the town itself,” Faris added, his voice still heavy with fatigue. “That town has no strategic value or any valuable items at all.”
“So, someone just decided to turn a completely normal town into a battlefield full of corpses?” Francea chimed in, her voice disturbingly cheerful. “Ha, that’s just cruel, even by my standards.”
“You’re just pissed someone did something more impressive than you usually do,” Faris shot back.
“Hey! I can do more amazing stuff than that!” Francea retorted. “I just don’t want to disrupt our priestess’s grand plan.”
Before their bickering could escalate, a boyish voice from the second seat interrupted them. The voice belonged to a figure whose youthful appearance belied his importance.
“Now, now, I’m sure Francea could do better, but that’s not the point of our grand plan, is it?” the boy said with a mischievous smile. “Besides, the issue is that this battlefield ruined some of our plans. The empire’s intelligence is already pointing fingers at us.”
“They probably think it’s easier to blame us since we’ve done so many bad things already,” Francea replied, her tone light and unconcerned.
Then, the ethereal voice of the priestess cut through the conversation, silencing everyone. “The empire’s intelligence is of no matter to us,” she said. “What matters is discovering who is behind the attack on the town.”
Her voice carried an authority that left no room for doubt. “Our grand plan is near completion, so no unknown variables can be allowed this close to the end. Any such variables must be identified, understood, and, if necessary, erased—all for the sake of our plan.”
The council members nodded in unison, fully aware of their roles in the grand plan and completely devoted to the priestess.
“Now, let’s move on to our next objective,” the priestess continued. “Our plan to disrupt the empire academy’s operations.”
Ren’s heart skipped a beat as her words registered. Shock and disbelief flooded his mind.
“What…?” Ren whispered, frozen in place. “No, it can’t be that academy, right?”
But his fears were confirmed as Velara activated another holographic map. The layout was unmistakable—a place Ren knew all too well.
“No… why now…?” Ren murmured, dread settling in his stomach. “This is too soon.”
The map displayed the most important location of the game’s second arc—the most renowned academy in the empire.
And within its walls resided the protagonist of the second arc.