Chapter 1

In a world seemingly born from serene dreams, the sun spread its warmth over vast green landscapes, while the gentle wind caressed nature's face with tender hands. A flowing river meandered nearby, its soft currents as if narrating tales to the distant ocean. The waters shimmered under the brilliance of a clear sky, reflecting its vibrant hues.

At the river's edge stood an elderly man, his white hair dancing with the wind as though it were part of the scene itself. His calm eyes gazed into the flowing waters, and his lips curved into a gentle smile that seemed to carry a thousand untold stories.

In a voice soft as a whisper, he murmured, "What a beautiful world... truly magnificent."

He lingered there, as if time itself had paused to join him in the tranquility of the moment. The melody of water and the rustling of tree branches formed a harmonious symphony, wrapping the moment in a peace seldom found amidst life's ceaseless chaos.

—

In the heart of the bustling city, a small pizza restaurant buzzed with chatter and laughter. Amid the lively atmosphere, Suero, Veb, and Baysal sat around a wooden table, their plain attire masking their identities as sorcerers.

Between bites of his pizza, Veb broke the silence, speaking in his usual calm tone. "I’ll be leaving."

Suero raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Where to?"

"To visit my sister, Yamato," Veb replied curtly.

Baysal paused mid-bite, her expression shifting to concern. "Is she alright?"

"Yes," Veb answered tersely, offering no further details.

Breaking the silence that lingered, Suero suddenly leaned forward, his face lighting up with excitement. "Did you hear? I’ve been promoted to Class B!"

He closed his eyes briefly, awaiting words of congratulations or even mild enthusiasm. But the silence stretched on. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the cold, indifferent stares of Veb and Baysal. Their expressions made it clear they found his announcement unworthy of any reaction.

Suero let out a frustrated sigh, slumping over the table. "What kind of response is this?" he muttered under his breath.

Baysal replied flatly, "What did you expect?"

Veb stood abruptly, nodding toward the door. "I’m leaving."

Baysal waved him off nonchalantly. "Goodbye."

Left alone with Baysal, Suero raised his head, glancing at her. "Are you leaving too?"

Crossing her arms, Baysal sighed. "I’m getting tired of sitting here."

A sudden spark lit Suero’s eyes as if he’d just remembered something important. He leapt up. "I forgot! There’s a movie I’ve been wanting to watch."

Baysal arched an eyebrow. "A movie? What’s it about?"

Grinning with childlike enthusiasm, Suero explained, "It’s about an alien who lives on Mars but accidentally ends up on Earth. He struggles to fit in as humans treat him with disdain, but then a girl falls in love with him. They start a strange romantic story that ends with their marriage!"

Baysal’s expression turned skeptical. "Romance? Ugh, I can’t stand those kinds of stories."

She leaned back in her chair before adding with unexpected excitement, "Action—that's more my thing."

Suero hesitated before asking, "Do you want to come with me?"

Her sharp glare made him shrink back slightly. "Are you serious? You want me to watch a movie about an alien?"

Suero swallowed hard. "Alright... I’ll go alone."

He left the restaurant, leaving Baysal to her thoughts. She glanced out the window briefly before raising her hand to call the waiter. "I’d like a drink, please."

The waiter nodded with a polite smile. "Certainly, ma’am."

Her gaze wandered outside, observing the passing cars and pedestrians. Yet her mind was elsewhere, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The vibrant world around her felt distant, unable to pull her away from the gnawing boredom that seemed to follow her everywhere.

---

The sky was adorned with a deep blue dome, scattered with stars glittering like pearls. The full moon shone brightly that night, its golden glow spilling gently over the rooftops and the bustling streets of Ronda. The district was alive, a city that never seemed to sleep.

Music blared from speakers at every corner, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. Groups of people, dressed in bizarre costumes, roamed the alleys, singing and dancing as if the night would never end. Others stood at the sidelines, content to watch and soak in the spectacle. Warm yellow light from streetlamps and houses bathed the area in an almost magical glow.

At the edge of the crowd, a drunk man stumbled forward with uneven steps, his laughter loud and wild. His friends trailed behind him, no better off themselves. Slurring his words in a mix of drunkenness and defiance, he said, "Come on, guys, let's leave this noise behind."

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He staggered towards the outskirts of the district, laughing as if he owned the night. But suddenly, he stopped. His feet collided with something invisible, sending him swaying backward. He stood still for a moment, regaining his balance, and stared ahead. There was nothing there.

His friends burst into laughter. One clutched his stomach, struggling to speak between fits of laughter. "Oi, did you drink too much?"

The drunk man didn’t join in their laughter. His expression shifted to unease as he stretched his hands forward, probing the empty air. Abruptly, his hand stopped. His fingers had made contact with something unseen—a barrier.

His eyes widened, and his startled voice cut through his friends' laughter: "I’m not joking! There’s something here!"

For a moment, silence replaced the merriment, an odd tension settling over them. One of his friends took hesitant steps forward, his tone dripping with mockery. "Maybe you need some sleep."

But the man’s gaze remained locked on the empty space, his fingers pressed against the invisible barrier. In a trembling voice, he whispered to himself, "This can’t be real…"

---

At the heart of Ronda, where the celebration was at its peak and the sounds merged into a continuous rhythm, everything suddenly stopped. The music cut off abruptly, leaving behind only the whispers of confusion and shock. The lights that had painted the streets and sky in vibrant colors vanished in an instant, plunging the district into pitch darkness.

A trembling voice of a young woman broke the silence: "What's happening?"

Another voice, a man’s this time, angrier than afraid, followed: "Why did the power go out?"

The crowd froze, as if waiting for someone to explain the sudden chaos. Moments later, the lights flickered back to life, illuminating the area once more, as though the night itself was toying with their nerves.

Sighs of relief swept through the crowd, quickly replaced by shouts demanding the music’s return: "Turn on the music! Come on!"

All eyes turned to the man operating the sound system, but he didn’t move. He stood frozen behind his table, his face pale and his hands trembling, as if he had just seen something unspeakable.

One of the attendees approached him, concern evident in his tone: "Hey, are you okay?"

The man didn’t respond. Instead, with a shaky hand, he pointed toward a dark alley beside them.

There, shrouded in shadows, something was present—something that didn’t belong to the lively night.

The DJ, who had been energizing the crowd just moments ago, now lay lifeless on the ground like a discarded puppet. Blood pooled around him, forming a grotesque circle that contrasted starkly with the joyous atmosphere of moments prior. A chilling silence descended upon the crowd, their horrified gazes locked onto the lifeless body drained of vitality.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the stage. A man stepped forward, exuding an ominous aura, his hands raised in mock greeting to the stunned crowd. His unsettling appearance drew every eye, and the madness in his gleaming gaze sent shivers through the onlookers. It was Solio, an odd necklace dangling around his neck, emanating an eerie glow.

"Welcome, pathetic humans!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the square, laced with a sardonic smile.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some stood frozen, paralyzed by fear, while others took hesitant steps back. Solio, unfazed, slowly extended his hand toward them. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, as though holding its breath.

From nowhere, a massive vortex of deep purple energy erupted. The ground trembled violently, and terror rippled through the crowd as the vortex began to consume them one by one. Screams filled the air as the people scrambled in every direction, desperate to escape the inescapable.

"And now, let the real show begin!" Solio declared, his maniacal laughter piercing through the chaos.

On the stage, Spailo joined him, his mocking smile a mirror of Solio's. Behind them, Campeis stood with icy indifference, his expression unchanging. Finally, Darwin appeared, his face devoid of emotion, as if the unfolding carnage was beneath his notice.

"Did you set up the barrier?" Spailo asked, his calm voice tinged with sarcasm.

Solio responded with a hysterical laugh: "As if I’d forget such a thing!"

Spailo turned away nonchalantly, his hands buried in his pockets. "Good. Let’s move on to the next phase of the plan, then."

The four descended from the platform as the vortex continued to devour the panicked crowd without mercy. The screams persisted, reverberating through the district, while the ground beneath them transformed into a sea of horror.

—

In the western side of Ronda,

Master Betma, a Class A sorcerer, stood tense, his eyes fixed on the chaos engulfing Ronda. The scene before him was nothing short of a nightmare.

“What in heaven’s name is happening?” he muttered, his voice laced with worry.

Behind him stood his small team: Hambo, a Class A disciple, and Alia, also a Class A disciple.

Lost in thought, Hambo spoke up, “Did you notice something strange?”

Alia turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Hambo replied, “The barrier… It allows sorcerers to enter, but they can’t leave. As for humans, they can neither enter nor exit.”

Alia glanced at her teacher, Betma, who was still staring into the horizon. “That’s true, Master. But… what should we do now?”

Betma remained silent for a moment, then responded in a calm tone that carried the weight of responsibility. “The sorcerers of the Rizsius organization… they’re here. At metro station B4.”

He furrowed his brows and added inwardly, in a voice no one could hear: “What are they planning?”

Hambo broke the silence with a sudden question: “Where is Sbyam Brius?”

All eyes turned toward Ronda, where music, dancing, and laughter continued unabated in the city center, as if the chaos on the outskirts meant nothing.

—

In the eastern side of Ronda.

Moryo, the leader of the Class A team, sat on the sidewalk, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped together. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as though it hid secrets just beyond reach. In a low, troubled voice, he muttered, "What a disturbance."

Around Moryo, his team stood. Baysal, her eyes burning with anger, broke the silence: "Why did they choose this area? These bastards! It's my favorite part of the city!"

Veb, with his usual cold demeanor and not even bothering to glance at her, replied, "Maybe because it's densely populated, you fool."

Baysal's face contorted into a mask of fury, and she whirled toward him, growling, "What did you say?"

But Veb remained unfazed, his gaze still fixed on Moryo, who remained silent as if lost in a world of his own.

Kamyo, appearing the more patient of the group, turned toward Moryo and asked, with a blend of curiosity and frustration, "Why are we just sitting here, waiting?"

A heavy silence fell. All eyes turned to Moryo, who still didn’t lift his gaze from the ground. Baysal, struggling to keep her emotions in check, spoke in a more serious tone: "Commander! Why aren’t we entering the B4 metro station?"

Finally, Moryo raised his head slightly. With a cold expression devoid of emotion, he answered, "Everyone has been assigned to the outskirts of the area. We're here to protect this place, just in case any of the Rizsius sorcerers try to flee. As for entering, that’s Master Sbyam’s responsibility. It's to ensure everyone’s safety."

Kamyo, with a sarcastic tone, sat beside Moryo on the sidewalk and said, "As if any of them could escape from the strongest sorcerer!"

As for Baysal, her eyes were fixed on the area ahead, where music filled the air, and people continued to sing and dance, oblivious to the disaster quietly brewing in the shadows.

—

In the north of Ronda, near the barrier, one of the men struck the invisible force field violently, his voice rising with each blow. "Oi ! , Let us out! Bring us Sbyam Brius right now!"

Nearby, a woman stood, clutching her small child. With a tense tone, she asked, "Who is this you're talking about? Who is Sbyam Brius?"

The man, still hammering at the barrier, replied, "I don’t know! But they say he's the only one who can get us out of here!"

The woman furrowed her brow in annoyance. "That wretched sorcerer! We're stuck here because of their mess!"

The child, no older than six, listened with wide eyes. His small face brightened, and he innocently said, "Mom! I love sorcerers! I want to be like them!"

The mother froze, her heart racing. Quickly, she covered his mouth with her trembling hand, whispering in fear, "Don’t say that! You don’t want to be like them! They’re the cause of all the destruction in the world!"

The child gently pushed her hand away and insisted, "But they fight monsters! They protect us, don’t they?"

The mother had no answer. She placed her hand over her face, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. Suddenly, the man stopped striking the barrier. His eyes widened, and his voice dropped to a whisper, "What...?"

Before them, a hand emerged, tearing through the barrier. It was a human hand, yet it seemed to rip the very fabric between worlds. The man instinctively took a step back, his eyes wide in disbelief, while the woman screamed in fear, clutching her child to her chest.

Then, the owner of the hand appeared. A tall man, with an aura that instilled dread. His eyes were as cold as ice, and his hair swayed with the icy wind that accompanied his arrival.

In a calm voice, as if asking for directions, he said, "Are we in Ronda?"

The woman trembled, fear evident in her voice. "Who are you?"

The man turned his gaze toward her. His features, though sharp, carried an unsettling innocence that contrasted with the darkness surrounding him. "I am Sbyam Brius. I apologize for the delay."

He then turned his eyes toward the city, where the festivities continued, songs filling the air, oblivious to the looming threat.

The crowd near the barrier stood still, watching him with a mixture of fear and suspicion.

End of the chapter.