Back in the main room, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation.

Suntuzel, Ares, Machivel, Sardias, and Warrent finalized their plans, checking and double-checking every detail.

Gran paced nervously,

“This has to work,” he muttered to himself.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

As the three-hour mark approached, the newly created mages began to file into the room.

Sylas had poured his heart and soul into their creation, and their loyalty to him was absolute.

Sylas emerged from his chamber, visibly exhausted but standing tall.

He surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on each of his allies.

“We move in four hours,” he said, his voice firm despite his weariness.

“This is our chance to turn the tide. Be ready.”

As the countdown ticked away, the group prepared for the battles that would shape their future.

In the quiet moments before the storm, Sylas allowed himself a brief moment of reflection.

“This will be the first battle of Sylind Empire...”

-

Gareth sat hunched over a table, lost in thought.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down to his temples before dropping onto the polished wooden floor.

His breathing quickened inexplicably, a strange, oppressive weight settling over him.

A sudden chill swept through the room, and the faint flicker of the lanterns dimmed.

Gareth’s eyes darted toward the walls as an unnatural shadow began to ripple across the surface, forming shapes that seemed to slither and writhe like living entities.

“What in the—” he began, but his words caught in his throat as the shadows coalesced into a dark, clawed hand.

The shadow hand moved with eerie precision, extending toward Gareth.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to resist, but his body refused to obey.

The hand wrapped itself around his chest and arms, pinning him to the chair.

“No! Get away!” Gareth shouted, struggling in vain against the shadowy grip.

The air grew heavier, and the temperature plummeted as the figure of a man clad in pitch-black robes materialized from the wall.

His face was obscured by a deep hood, but the malevolent glint of his smile was unmistakable.

“Sleep,” the figure said in a voice that resonated with unnatural power, both a command and a curse.

Before Gareth could protest, his vision darkened, and the world around him faded into oblivion.

Gareth’s awareness returned slowly, his head throbbing as though he’d been struck.

He blinked several times, the blurry outline of a grand room coming into focus.

Across the room stood Heidrick,

Revol stood to his left, his sharp eyes locked onto Gareth with suspicion.

Flanking the room were several Blue Hope Guardians.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Gareth’s heart sank.

This wasn’t his room.

He was in Heidrick’s private chamber.

“Good, you’re awake,”

Heidrick said, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Gareth struggled to sit up, his body still sluggish from whatever spell had brought him here. “What… what’s going on?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Heidrick’s piercing gaze bore into him, scrutinizing him as though trying to unravel his very soul.

“The question is not what’s going on. The question is who you are,” Heidrick said, his tone sharp.

Gareth frowned, confused and wary.

“What are you talking about?”

Revol snorted, a trace of disdain flickering across his face.

“Spare us the lies. You were brought here because you’re not who you claim to be.”

Gareth’s confusion deepened, and his instincts told him he was in grave danger.

“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Heidrick took a step closer, the weight of his presence making the air feel stifling.

“You felt it, didn’t you? The shadow that gripped you in your room, the hand that brought you here. That wasn’t an accident. That was a spy mage that have been watching you from the shadows for more than five days now.”

Gareth’s breath caught in his throat.

“A shadow mage... “

“What are you accusing me of?” Gareth asked,

Heidrick’s expression hardened.

“You tell me. Who are you really? And why are you hiding among my people?”

“I’m not hiding!” Gareth protested. “Everyone knows me.”

Revol stepped forward, his voice laced with skepticism.

“Do they? Are you really the man we know, the man whose name is Gareth and captain of the guards... Or just a pretender, a back-stabber...”

“That’s ridiculous! I’ve been loyal to the Blue Hope. I’ve done everything asked of me.”

Heidrick raised a hand, silencing both Gareth and Revol.

“Enough,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative.

“I didn’t bring you here to argue. I brought you here to uncover the truth.”

With a subtle motion, Heidrick gestured to the shadows in the corner of the room.

They began to swirl and coalesce once more, forming the figure of the same cloaked man who had invaded Gareth’s room.

“This is Shadowblade, a mage under the command of Revol which given to him by me,” Heidrick explained.

Gareth’s pulse quickened as Shadowblade stepped closer,

“When I touched your essence,” Shadowblade said, his voice a low rasp,

“I felt a split—a fracture in your identity. There’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

“At the same time, I have seen you placing Demonic Bomb around the ship, while you placed these bombs, you have whispered Red Rise...”

“I have not expected that you make a mistake and activate the demonic bombs, that is why I have not stopped you from placing the bombs.”

“That a mistake...”

Gareth shook his head

“You’re wrong! I’m just a normal man!”

“Lies,” Heidrick said coldly.

Gareth’s mind raced. He didn’t know what Shadowblade had seen, but he couldn’t afford to let them dig deeper. If they uncovered certain truths about him, it would mean his end.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to sound sincere.

“Maybe your magic is flawed. Maybe it’s picking up something else.”

Heidrick’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you think me a fool?”

Gareth’s heart pounded as Heidrick turned to Shadowblade.

“Begin the extraction.”

Renvok raised his hands, and the shadows in the room began to writhe and twist, converging toward Gareth. The air grew thick with tension as the shadows crept closer, their touch cold and invasive.

“No! Wait!” Gareth shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.

The shadows paused, hovering just inches away from him.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know,” he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Just... don’t use that magic on me.”

Heidrick crossed his arms, waiting.

“Speak.”

Gareth took a shaky breath.

“It seems this will be the end of me.” Gareth (Alexander) thought.

“I’m not Gareth.”

“I am Alexander, who has switched to the body of Gareth after I have ambushed him and used a sacrifical spell to kill him to complete the transformation.”

“From the moment he had been killed and we met again, I was inside of him...”

“Why did you come here?” Heidrick asked, Despite feeling angry all over his soul and body, he still needed to know more before acting on his anger.

“To escape,” Gareth admitted.

“I wanted to start over and to survive to earn more power.”

“It is not for the noble causes...” Gareth smirked helplessly as he spoke.

Heidrick regarded him silently for a long moment before speaking.

“You’ve lied to me, kill one of my trusted man, one that I value much...”

“Not to mention the fact that you have killed Gareth, you are also responsible from killing ten thousands because of your demonic bombs.”