Abeni shut her eyes and focused. Inside the shadowed crucible where K9 had encircled her, she delved into her own inner forge—a space born from her deepest longing. There, glistening as if fresh from molten fire, she found the purple chains shimmering with energy. She resolved to use them to her advantage.

Her first connection was to Takeshi, and then to Hiroki.

“Where are we?” Takeshi asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Hiroki, still reeling from the sudden pull, remained silent.

When Abeni opened her eyes, she was startled by what she had conjured. The space around her was a swirling spiral of chains, faint yet unmistakably real, emerging from her chest and extending outward like tendrils seeking purchase in the world beyond.

“I call it the M-Path... something,” she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “If I’d watched more anime and was more of a loser, maybe I could’ve come up with a better name.”

Hiroki, still not fully grasping the moment, blurted out a suggestion. “Special Past-Time Dominion.”

“Something like that,” Abeni said, giving him an approving nod.

Takeshi watched the chains spooling from Abeni’s chest, their luminous spirals stretching outward into the ether. He immediately recognized the nature of the space they had entered and how it was created.

“Forger technique?” he remarked, more a statement than a question. “Interesting.”

Abeni glanced down at the intricate web of chains tethered to her and nodded. “I call it the M-Path Chain,” she said. “I picked it up while K9 was teaching me the fundamentals of forging.”

As she explained how it worked, Takeshi listened intently, his astonishment growing with every word. The intricacy of the technique was astounding, and the speed at which Abeni had mastered it defied all expectations—especially for someone without nobility or formal lineage in the craft.

“But how?” Takeshi finally asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. “How did you learn all five stages so quickly, and to such an extraordinary level of finesse?”

“I practiced on myself first,” Abeni replied simply.

That answer only deepened Takeshi’s confusion. He furrowed his brow, studying her intently. “Practiced on yourself? That’s what I don’t understand—how?” He gestured toward the glimmering chains. “How much essence does it take to run something of this size and complexity?”

Abeni spoke calmly, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. “K9 mentioned concepts like light territories, territorial essence, and limited space with infinite potential,” she said. “It made sense once I understood it.”

The explanation left Takeshi momentarily stunned. He mulled over her words before finally nodding. “I see,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Hiroki, glancing between the two of them, broke the silence. “Wait—what does that even mean? What are you talking about?”

Takeshi barely spared him a glance. “It doesn’t matter to someone like you,” he said, his tone blunt. “After all, you’re already a monster.”

Hiroki frowned but said nothing, unsure how to respond.

Takeshi turned back to Abeni, his gaze sharp. “Now,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension, “why did you bring us here?”

“Finally, asking the not-boring questions,” Abeni muttered, rolling her eyes. “K9—I don’t trust him,” she said bluntly.

Takeshi nodded in agreement. “Neither do I. His entire presence here is a mystery.”

Hiroki chimed in, his voice uncertain. “Yeah, I don’t get it either. If he’s as powerful as he seems, why does he stay in this space? He could probably leave if he wanted to. Maybe… maybe he just really likes us?”

At that, both Abeni and Takeshi turned to Hiroki, their expressions unified in a mixture of disbelief and faint amusement—the kind of look one gives to a dog that’s just barked at its own reflection. Takeshi even went so far as to pat Hiroki’s head with mock pity.

Hiroki swatted his hand away, scowling. “I’m serious.”

Abeni turned back to Takeshi, tilting her head slightly to the side. “I’ve been talking to the wraiths in the area,” she said casually. “Did it while practicing my whispering.”

Takeshi, hands shoved deep into his pockets, let out a low whistle—this time laced with sarcasm rather than admiration. The sound carried an unspoken sentiment: So, what can’t you do?

Abeni rolled her eyes at his reaction but pressed on. “Word on the grapevine—or should I say, wraithvine—” she added with a smirk.

The pun earned a small chuckle from Hiroki, which brought a fleeting smile to Abeni’s face before she continued. “—is that our oh-so-generous sensei has been showing some tricks to our Warden up there. All the reshuffling going on? That’s him. He’s learning how to move the place.”

Hiroki, half-distracted while playing with Arkan, chimed in. “Yeah, he always did go on about how powerful this place was—and how the guy running it was, like, a total novice.”

Takeshi nodded, his expression hardening. “One too many times,” he muttered, finishing Hiroki’s thought.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Abeni continued, her voice steady but tinged with unease. “I think they’re plotting to trap us here somehow. The wraiths couldn’t give me all the details—or maybe I just couldn’t understand them well enough—but I got the gist. He’s planning to seal us in using this territory’s powers. The real question is why.”

Hiroki nodded, frowning. “Yeah, what’s the point? Why go through all this trouble training us, just to trap us here? I never sensed any animosity from him.”

A deep, resonant voice cut through the conversation. “He definitely does not want to hurt you three children.”

The group turned as Umbrel, the dark wraith, materialized around Takeshi like a pulsating mini-collapsed star. Its presence was both calming and unsettling, a silent vibration reverberating in the air as it spoke.

“His goals are not unlike those of the Crimson Hand,” Umbrel said, its voice echoing with an otherworldly cadence. “The hoarding of talent for a specific purpose. That purpose being to protect you from the worst effects of the Hollowing.”

Abeni furrowed her brow, the pieces refusing to fit together. “Wait, aren’t these guys supposed to be the bad guys? Why would they want to protect us from the Hollowing?”

Umbrel’s pulsating form flickered as it responded, its voice calm yet weighted. “Their aim of shielding talent from the storm might seem admirable at first glance, but I assure you, it is not. The first issue,” it continued, “is that they are the ones orchestrating the storm. Their goal is to keep you—and others like you—out of harm’s way only until the initial blitz passes. But make no mistake: the storm will be permanent.”

Abeni’s eyes narrowed as the weight of Umbrel’s words sank in. “So… they want to keep us safe until then. But why? What’s so special about us that they’d go to all this trouble?”

Umbrel began circling slowly, its pulsating form casting faint shadows. “Let me explain it this way: imagine there’s a big runway event, a grand show where the best models are set to walk the stage, showcasing their brilliance.”

Abeni suddenly perked up, her eyes locking onto Umbrel. “I get it,” she said, her interest piqued.

Umbrel continued, its voice steady. “Because these models are so exceptional, so unique, you’d want to keep them pristine—mint condition—before the event. You wouldn’t want them dealing with the chaos of the preparations or the hassle of event planning. You’d shield them, protect them, so they’re ready to shine when the time comes.”

“Makes sense,” Abeni muttered, nodding along.

Umbrel stopped circling and turned its attention back to the group. “It’s something like that. Between now and the Hollowing, you kids will face countless dangers—situations like this one. But your talent makes you valuable. The Obsidian Hand would rather keep you out of harm’s way until the event begins.”

“What happens after?” Hiroki asked, his tone cautious.

Umbrel went silent. It was Takeshi who broke the quiet. “A banquet. Chaos. Power.”

Abeni’s breath caught as the realization hit her. She pieced it together quickly. Soul-Smiths use Arcane Essence. By breaking down the boundaries of reality, more arcane essence pours into the living world, giving Soul-Smiths—especially talented ones—an abundance of material and power to work with.

But the cost? The world itself would be irrevocably altered. Reality, as they knew it, would be scarred and reshaped.

“A banquet and chaos,” Abeni murmured to herself, the words lingering like a foreboding mantra.

Back in the dimly lit bathroom, where shadows clung to the cracked tiles, K9 stood with his hands in his pockets. The shadows he had left with Takeshi and Hiroki had long since dissipated; this was the real K9. Before him stood the Perfect Worker, his figure unnervingly still. There was something deeply wrong about him, a sense that someone—or something—was watching from behind his eyes.

“I don’t suppose you plan on standing there forever, do you?” K9 asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “Or are you going to let me wallow in sorrow for betraying our pretty little arrangement?”

“I do apologize,” the Perfect Worker replied, his tone devoid of its usual manic energy. The bizarre smile, the unsettling antics—they were all absent, replaced by a solemn stillness. Even his voice was not his own; it belonged to the Supervisor.

“Your deal—it sounded enticing,” the Supervisor continued, his words measured and calm. “But it’s not something I wanted. I don’t want to live by strict rules. I don’t want to work for someone else any longer.”

K9 tilted his head, a faint smirk curling his lips. “The world I’m offering you is one of power. Imagine a territory like this, but more.”

“Power comes with work,” the Supervisor interrupted. “People seek you out, demand things from you. And even you can’t deny that.”

K9 didn’t argue, his smirk slipping into something closer to a thoughtful expression.

“Look at those poor children,” the Supervisor continued. “They’re powerful, aren’t they? And you’ve made it your purpose to bother them. That’s how they ended up bothering me.”

K9 nodded—a slow, deliberate nod that said, Fair point.

“So you can only blame yourself. Your students may hope to escape, but I will trap them here. I’ll kill them, so I can have my peace.”

K9’s smirk widened into something unsettling. “But you don’t look so sad,” the Supervisor noted, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features.

In fact, K9 was grinning. A sharp, predatory grin. “That’s because you don’t understand,” K9 said, his voice low and tinged with amusement. “Those kids of mine? They’re monsters, every one of them—and they’ve got a few screws loose to boot.”

The Supervisor frowned, puzzled.

K9 chuckled as he raised a hand, summoning his Arcane Beast. The air in the room grew heavy, and from the shadows emerged Basker, the Hound—a towering, Arcane beast with eyes that gleamed like molten metal.

“They’ve been planning to fight from the very beginning,” K9 said, his grin widening as Basker growled low and menacingly. “And you’re about to find out just how messy monsters can get.”

As Abeni dashed through the labyrinthine corridors, the floor beneath her shifted suddenly. She lost her footing as the surface twisted and turned, sending her flying through a wall. The impact shattered the stone, and she landed hard on the ground, groaning as she pulled herself up.

When she finally steadied herself, her eyes locked onto a figure standing in the room before her. Recognition dawned quickly—it was the Supervisor from earlier, the one she’d seen in the report Morikawa had handed them.

Abeni, now face-to-face with the Supervisor, narrowed her eyes and shifted into a battle stance. Her muscles tensed, her focus sharpening.

Elsewhere, Hiroki stumbled into another chamber, only to come face-to-face with another ‘Perfect Worker’. His heart raced as he immediately recognized the threat. Without hesitation, he settled into his own battle stance, ready for the challenge.

Takeshi, in yet another part of the maze, found himself standing before yet another version of the Perfect Worker. His hands clenched into fists, his stance low and poised for combat.

Across the labyrinth, three battles were set to begin. The air thrummed with tension, each of them silently preparing to face the enemy before them. The fight was inevitable—and none of them planned to hold back.