For a week, everything remained the same. In enchanting class, the students continued to struggle with the spell and the lessons became a repetitive cycle of practice, growing more tedious with each passing day.

In illusion class, Edgarth taught them to combine the ‘Courage’ spell with the word ‘whole’, enhancing it into a stronger version. Leo knew these spells would prove more useful when he could learn to cast them in midair at the B rank.

But none of that mattered now. Today was the day of the meeting, and he was finally going to get the long-awaited book.

The whole day felt like a year for Leo, but he endured it. Now he sat cross-legged on his bed, waiting for the meeting to begin. He had already checked the sack containing fifty gold coins more times than he could count. Each passing minute stretched endlessly until, finally, everything blurred and he found himself in his usual seat at the secret gathering.

"Welcome, my friends, to another conclave of our order," Mr. Sage's voice echoed with its usual authority. "As is our custom, let us commence with the fulfillment of promises made at our last gathering."

Mr. Crow retrieved a book and sent it to Leo through the magical exchange. In return Leo handed over the bag of gold. When the book landed in his hands, Leo immediately recognized it—it was the same as the one he had seen in the library. His fingers itched to open it and delve into its secrets, but now was not the time. With a curt nod of acknowledgment to Mr. Crow, who mirrored the gesture Leo slipped the book into his bag.

However, Mr. Immortal seemed even more eager than Leo. He produced a cloth bag and sent it to Ms. Eye. In response, Ms. Eye revealed an intricately shaped box. The object was covered in gears interwoven with a glowing magical lock, etched with a circle of runes that seemed incomprehensible in the dim light.

Ms. Eye also handed over a folded piece of parchment. "The instructions for unlocking it are written here."

Mr. Immortal accepted the box and parchment with a nod, placing both carefully in his bag.

"Aren't you going to check it?" Ms. Eye asked.

Mr. Immortal's lips curled into a faint smile. "It's not something I can verify here. And you? Are you not concerned I might have left something out?"

Ms. Eye returned the smile. "We are under the gaze of Mr. Sage. I'm confident you fulfilled your end of the deal."

"Then I’ll extend the same trust," Mr. Immortal replied.

Mr. Sage remained silent during their exchange, his presence an unshakable pillar in the room. After a moment, he spoke again. "Now, let us proceed to the heart of our agenda."

This time, Mr. Light began. "The pirates are heading toward the beast. In about two months, they will reach it."

Mr. King leaned back with a satisfied nod. "Good. Let’s hope the two groups destroy each other."

His gaze shifted to Ms. Shadow. "What about the land beyond the wall, Ms. Shadow?"

Ms. Shadow raised her head. Even through the obscuring fog and shadows, her worry and fear were palpable.

"We’ve discovered the one behind it all."

Mr. King's voice sharpened. "Who is it? Name your price—I’ll pay whatever you demand."

Ms. Shadow shook her head. "There’s no need for payment. This concerns all of us."

The room fell silent, every gaze fixed on her.

"The leader of the group is Iralian Desimus."

The revelation sent a ripple of shock through the room. Only Mr. Sage, and Leo who had no context for the name, remained composed.

Mr. King shot to his feet. "The Void Caller!?"

Ms. Eye's voice trembled slightly. "What is his goal?"

Ms. Shadow sighed deeply, as if the weight of her next words threatened to crush her.

"He intends to awaken the Beast—the corrupted dragon." She hesitated before continuing, as if the name itself might summon doom. "The Final Calamity."

The very air in the room seemed to vibrate with those words, as if reality itself recoiled.

Before anyone could react, Mr. Sage, who rarely spoke, raised his head slightly. His voice resonated with power carrying an authority that seemed to press against their souls. "One of a god's true names must not be spoken by anyone less than an angel. To speak it lightly is to court disaster, for names hold power and such power can ripple through reality."

Ms. Shadow bowed her head low. "Forgive me, Mr. Sage. But I needed to convey how dire the situation is. If the… the Beast awakens, it will mean the end of everything."

A heavy silence blanketed the gathering. No one dared to speak, for there were no words fit to match the weight of what had just been revealed.

After a few minutes of heavy silence, Mr. King finally spoke up, his voice firm but carrying an edge of unease. “I will relay this news to the higher-ups in the Northern Kingdom.” He then shifted his sharp gaze toward Ms. Shadow. “I presume the Magic Kingdom is already aware, which leaves only the Light Kingdom.”

“The message has already been sent,” Ms. Shadow replied curtly. “We need all the S-Ranks from the three kingdoms. This cannot be delayed.”

“We must stop this before they succeed,” said Mr. Crow, his tone carrying a rare weight of concern.

Leo glanced around the room. Amid the palpable tension, three figures seemed notably less affected by fear. One was Leo himself, who despite understanding the severity of the situation, lacked the knowledge to fully grasp the terror associated with the Beast. The second was Mr. Immortal, whose focus remained locked on the box he had received, his mind seemingly preoccupied with its content. The last was Mr. Sage, whose presence remained as enigmatic and unshakable as ever. No one knew the true extent of his power, he might not even be human, perhaps something far greater, maybe even a god himself.

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Because of the weight of the news everyone forget what they wanted to say, so the meeting came to an end.

…

In the northern kingdom, within a grand mansion, Count Errenor Daradia opened his eyes. It was nighttime. Rising from his chair, he walked to the large window of his chamber, his gaze fixed on the darkened landscape outside. His mind was consumed by the troubling news he had just received.

‘The Beast’.

After a moment of gathering his thoughts, he decided this matter could not wait until morning.

"Luis."

Though it was late, his men were always prepared to answer his call.

From the shadowy corner of the room, a figure emerged and knelt before him.

"I need you to travel to the Light Kingdom again. Assemble a team and station them in the two largest cities. Instruct them to observe the bishops carefully. You, however, will go directly to the capital. Be cautious—do not underestimate them."

"Yes, my lord," Luis replied before vanishing into the shadows.

Once Luis had disappeared, Errenor reached for a small ornate bell on his desk and rang it. Moments later, a man in a crisp formal suit entered the room and bowed deeply.

"At your service, my lord."

"Send messages to all the family leaders and arrange an urgent meeting. Additionally, dispatch a special message to both the king and the pope."

The man's eyes widened briefly in surprise, but Errenor's firm tone silenced any questions.

"Yes, my lord," he said with a quick bow before leaving the room.

Alone again, Count Errenor turned back to the window, his sharp eyes scanning the vast night sky. The weight of the moment settled heavily on his shoulders as he considered the storm that was approaching.

…

In the Magic Kingdom, high atop a towering black spire that pierced the clouds, Archmage Aran's empty eye sockets began to glow with a sinister green flame.

The Beast was of no concern to him now. With skeletal hands steady despite his eagerness, he retrieved the intricately locked box and unfolded the parchment containing the instructions. His hollow sockets flickered as he carefully read each step, his bony fingers tracing the arcane symbols on the box.

Half an hour passed in painstaking precision as he followed the ritual to unlock the powerful magical seal. Each moment felt agonizingly slow, yet he endured, knowing the treasure within was worth every second. When the final rune clicked into place, the box hissed softly and opened.

Inside lay an ordinary-looking, blank sheet of parchment. But the sheer aura of power radiating from it confirmed its authenticity—it was a page, a true page.

A soundless laugh echoed through his hollow skull, a twisted mimicry of joy. "Nersa, summon Archmage Hakan to The Hollow Core."

A shapeless shadow detached from the corner of the room, glided silently to the wall, and disappeared into the stone.

If Aran still had lips, he would have been smiling. Clutching the box with reverence, he turned and began his descent toward The Hollow Core, his hollow sockets blazing with green fire. Secrets long buried in the abyss of Death awaited him, and he could not wait to uncover them.

…

In a modest room illuminated by the soft glow of morning light filtering through a single window, a man opened his eyes. His face was sharp yet approachable with well-defined cheekbones and a strong jawline softened by a hint of stubble. Light brown hair, neatly swept back, framed his thoughtful expression while his sharp eyes radiated a focus. A faint smile curved his lips, the kind that belonged to someone accustomed to tackling challenges with unwavering steadiness.

He was dressed practically, wearing a cream-colored, rolled-sleeve shirt tucked into sturdy brown trousers, secured by well-worn leather suspenders. A tool belt brimming with essentials hung at his side and his scuffed boots bore the marks of countless hours of work.

Rising from the chair he stretched briefly before stepping outside the room. Waiting in the corridor was a boy with long, unruly curls of black hair and an eager, curious demeanor.

“Lord Victor, you look different this time. Did something happen?” the boy asked, concern laced in his voice.

Victor smiled warmly, brushing off the formality. “How many times must I tell you Fabio, you don’t need to add ‘lord’?”

“And I’ve told you,” Fabio retorted with mock exasperation, “if I don’t practice here, I’ll forget to say it in public.”

They walked side by side down the corridor until they reached a door. Victor pushed it open, stepping onto a wide balcony. The view before him revealed a sprawling city. The buildings were simple, yet they radiated the charm of a bustling merchant hub. Streets teemed with activity, people moving like a constant tide. The hum of life below seemed to soothe Victor as he leaned against the balcony railing.

Fabio, still curious and a bit worried, watched him closely. “Victor, I’ve never seen you this worried,” he said, his brow furrowing.

Victor’s gaze remained fixed on the cityscape. “Don’t worry little one. The truth is going to reveal itself soon—very soon.”

Fabio bristled, raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance. “I’m eighteen you know. Not exactly little anymore.”

Victor chuckled, ruffling Fabio’s hair with a hand. “Eighteen or not, you’ll always be little to me,” he teased gently, his tone affectionate.

As Fabio muttered under his breath, Victor returned his focus to the city, his smile fading slightly as he allowed his thoughts to wander.

…

Arthur had already made up his mind. He had a mission here, one he was determined to carry out. Walking across the deck of his ship, anchored securely at the pier, he moved with purpose.

The crew lay scattered in deep sleep their soft snores blending with the gentle creak of the ship and the distant sound of waves lapping against the hull.

“I leave that matter to you, Father,” Arthur muttered under his breath, his words more for his own reassurance than anyone else's.

…

In a small tower, Hulda Kroll stood in silence. She was clad in a long black dress, her face obscured by the hood of her cloak, leaving only a faint hint of her sharp features visible.

A woman entered the room, bowing slightly before speaking. “Archmage Kroll, what are your orders?”

“We wait,” Hulda replied curtly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The woman hesitated, her unease evident. “But…”

Hulda cut her off sharply. “Even if we move in now, we stand no chance against the swarm of A rank beasts, let alone an S rank.” Her voice carried a weight of authority and measured caution.

Reluctantly, the woman bowed again. “As you wish,” she said, though her tone betrayed her doubt.

Hulda stepped out onto the balcony, her gaze fixed on the towering shadow wall before them, its upper reaches lost in the clouds. Her expression remained unreadable as she surveyed the daunting sight.

…

In a dimly lit room, a woman opened her eyes, her features obscured by the shadows. A faint, sinister smile curled on her lips. Reaching into the bag slung over her shoulder, she retrieved a smaller, intricately embroidered pouch and set it on the table with deliberate care.

A sleek black cat leapt gracefully onto her lap, settling there with a quiet purr. She began to stroke its fur, her long fingers moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

“It’s getting interesting,” she murmured, her voice soft but laden with an unsettling undertone.

Her smile widened, transforming into a chilling laugh that echoed through the dark room, its eerie resonance sending shivers into the silence.

…

In the shadowy expanse as the last figure disappeared, Mr. Sage remained seated, his gaze fixed on the now-empty chairs. The oppressive silence hung heavy in the air, yet his expression remained eerily calm.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate, as though addressing an unseen presence.

“So, you’ve begun your move, Mad God.”

Then, from the depths of the void, a laugh emerged—not from Mr. Sage’s throat, but from everywhere at once. It was dark, malevolent and omnipresent, reverberating through the infinite shadows with an overwhelming intensity. The sound seemed to seep into existence itself, a spectral vibration that twisted and warped the air.

The laugh echoed endlessly, a cacophony that resonated from every corner of the space, as though the darkness itself was alive. The very fabric of the place quivered under its sinister weight, the shadows contorting and writhing as though in pain or reverence. It was not just a sound but a presence, an oppressive force that filled the void with an unbearable tension.