Chapter 109 - Warning

  Grand Duke Edric Vernhardt reclined in his opulent, gold-plated carriage, its elaborate carvings reflecting the afternoon sun. The crest of the Vernhardt family gleamed proudly on the sides, a testament to their centuries-old lineage. Surrounding his carriage was a convoy of a dozen other finely crafted vehicles, each more extravagant than the last. These carriages carried his most trusted vassals—powerful mages, knights, and noble warriors—each eager for the grand beast hunt promised by the Grand Duke himself.

  The rhythmic clatter of hooves against the dirt road filled the air, blending with the occasional chatter of knights and guards. Though the atmosphere remained mostly composed, a lingering unease tainted the journey. Rumors had been circulating among the troops, whispers of an ominous darkness blooming near the shoreline of the Anagro Sea.

  "They say the skies turned black for a whole day," muttered one knight, his voice barely above a whisper. "Shadows swirled like a living entity, consuming the light."

  Another guard scoffed. "Bah, just overblown stories. This is the farthest region of Lafina. The magic here is too thin for anything truly dangerous to manifest. If anything, the central continent—where the air is thick with mana—would be the place to worry about."

  Yet, despite the skepticism, a tension hung over the company. Some spoke of strange sightings—figures in the sky wreathed in flames, flashes of unknown magical forces colliding in the distance. Others dismissed them as hallucinations or mere tricks of the eye, the superstitions of the weak-minded.

  Within the grand carriage, Leonard Vernhardt sat across from his father, his face set in deep concern. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white.

  "Father, I beg you to reconsider," Leonard pleaded, his voice filled with urgency. "This hunt—it isn't what you think it is. I saw something. A creature unlike any I’ve encountered before. It had molten gold eyes, and it spoke, Father. It spoke like a being of intelligence, of power. We are walking straight into the jaws of something far beyond us."

  Grand Duke Edric regarded his son with a mixture of disappointment and irritation. "You disgrace yourself with this fearmongering, Leonard. A Vernhardt does not cower before rumors and shadows. You are my son. You will conduct yourself as such."

  Leonard’s jaw tightened. "I am not afraid. I am cautious. We have no idea what lurks ahead!"

  "Enough," the Grand Duke cut him off, his tone final. "The hunt will proceed."

  Leonard exhaled sharply, frustration evident on his face. No matter what he said, his father refused to listen.

  The convoy pressed on. As they neared a crossroad, they came upon an unexpected sight—a small, creaking cart pulled by a single, frail horse. The cart’s driver was an elderly man, his back hunched, his clothing worn with age and hardship. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled the reins, guiding his tired beast forward.

  The moment he caught sight of the grand procession, his eyes widened in terror. His knees buckled, and without hesitation, he dropped to the ground in submission.

  "M-my lords!" he stammered, his voice shaky. "I beg your pardon! I did not mean to cross your path!"

  One of the knights stepped forward, his brows furrowing. "Stand, old man. We seek only directions. Where does this road lead?"

  The elder hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "You must not go to the Anagro Sea."

  A murmur rippled through the guards. "And why is that?" one demanded.

  The old man licked his dry lips. "I have heard stories—whispers from those who barely escaped. Near the sea, where the ancient Magical Academy rests deep in the mountains and forests, a terrible mist has begun to spread. A friend of mine—a skilled herbalist—went seeking a rare medicinal plant. He was found half-dead on the roadside, gasping for air, his skin pale as death. He spoke of a suffocating fog, thick as poison. Of voices whispering from within."

  The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. Some tightened their grips on their weapons.

  "More nonsense," one of the mages scoffed, though his voice lacked conviction. "A trick of the mind, nothing more."

  The old man shook his head, his expression grave. "Believe what you will, but heed my warning. The Anagro Sea is no place for men anymore."

  Grand Duke Edric waved his hand dismissively. "Superstition and cowardice. We press on."

  The convoy resumed its journey, but the tension among the guards grew palpable. Some cast wary glances at the horizon, where distant storm clouds loomed over the sea, their dark shapes eerily still. The air grew colder, the wind carrying a strange, almost unnatural scent.

  Leonard cast one last glance back at the old man, his stomach twisting with unease. He could not shake the feeling that they were walking toward something far worse than any beast they had ever hunted.

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  And the Anagro Sea awaited them in silence.

  The old man did not utter another word as the grand procession of carriages moved past him, ignoring his presence entirely. His face twisted with unease, and with trembling hands, he gripped the reins of his worn-out horse. Without wasting another second, he turned his small cart around and hastily moved away, his fear evident in his hurried movements. The glow of torchlight reflecting off the golden-plated carriages behind him only added to the surreal nature of the encounter. He had seen mages before, but never in such numbers, and certainly never so close. The warning he had given fell on deaf ears—he could only pray they wouldn’t regret it.

  As night settled over the land, the grand convoy finally came to a halt. The formation of carriages shifted, arranging themselves in a large circle, creating a makeshift encampment. Grand Duke Edric Vernhardt stepped out of his lavish carriage first, stretching his limbs as he took in the cool night air. Soon after, the knights, guards, and mages disembarked, some shaking off the stiffness of the journey while others maintained their composed demeanor. A series of bonfires were lit in the center of the circle, their flickering flames casting long shadows against the elegant carriages.

  The knights and guards, relieved to have a moment to rest, quickly fell into casual conversation. The air soon filled with hearty laughter as they spoke of their wives, past adventures, and the barrels of wine waiting for them once they returned home. For a while, they seemed to forget about the unsettling rumors of dark forces near the Anagro Sea.

  “They always say these things before a hunt,” one knight scoffed, taking a swig from his flask. “A darkness blooming near the shoreline? Rampaging forces in the sky? Ha! If anything, I’d bet it’s just another faction making a move. Nothing we need to worry about.”

  “Still,” another knight countered, rubbing his chin, “the Magical Academy being affected is concerning. If even those stuck-up mages are wary, it might mean something.”

  The mages, however, remained mostly silent, standing apart from the raucous gathering of knights and guards. As always, they were an aloof presence, observing rather than engaging. Among them was a peculiar figure clad in a deep red robe. Their small frame, almost childlike, stood out amidst the taller, more imposing mages, yet no one could see their true form beneath the heavy fabric. This individual had not spoken a single word since joining the expedition, nor had they shown any interest in food, drink, or conversation.

  “That one’s unsettling,” whispered one mage to another. “Never speaks, never asks anything, just follows along.”

  “I thought it was a child at first,” another mage murmured. “But no apprentice mage would be brought along on such a mission. Whoever they are, they’re not ordinary.”

  As the hushed discussions continued, the red-robed individual suddenly lifted their head, gazing intently at the sky. The movement was so abrupt that it caught the attention of the other mages, who instinctively followed their line of sight. At first, they saw nothing but the vast expanse of stars. Then—two figures soared through the night sky, their forms barely visible against the darkness.

  A moment later, an overwhelming pressure descended upon the encampment.

  It was as if an invisible weight pressed against their chests, making it difficult to breathe. The knights and guards, who had been jovial moments ago, now stood frozen in place, their instincts screaming at them to run.

  Then, the red-robed figure let out a quiet but amused sound. “Oh? Archmages. And two of them, no less.”

  Their casual remark sent a fresh wave of tension through the group.

  Archmages. The highest level of magic mastery that most could only dream of attaining. The knights had heard whispers of such figures before—legendary beings who wielded power beyond comprehension. But rumors were one thing. Experiencing the presence of such beings firsthand was another.

  Flying was an ability reserved for those who had reached the High Master stage and beyond. Initially, the group had been awed by the sight of flight, but now that they could feel the suffocating power emanating from these individuals, admiration quickly turned to fear. Their instincts screamed that they were nothing but insects before such beings.

  The red-robed figure, however, remained utterly unbothered. After their remark, they simply lowered their head and fell silent once more, as if nothing of significance had occurred.

  The tension in the air only intensified as one of the Archmages suddenly descended. The group stiffened, hands instinctively reaching for weapons, despite knowing how futile such resistance would be. The mages exchanged nervous glances, some side-eyeing the red-robed individual, whose ability to detect and instantly assess the Archmages’ power levels was not something just anyone could do. Only those with extreme sensitivity or power on the same level could manage such a feat.

  The figure who landed was a woman—her robes tattered, her body bearing signs of battle. A faint mist surrounded her, leaving frost in her wake. The sheer cold radiating from her form was enough to make some of the knights shiver, though she seemed to be controlling it with precision.

  Her sharp gaze immediately locked onto the red-robed individual before shifting to the rest of the group. Then, her voice rang out, firm and unyielding. “Where are you going?”

  Grand Duke Edric Vernhardt was the first to step forward, offering a formal greeting before explaining their purpose. “We are here to hunt a beast near the Magical Academy.”

  The woman’s expression darkened. Her body tensed as if she had heard something truly disturbing. Her gaze flickered once more to the red-robed individual before she uttered a chilling warning.

  “Do not go there. You will all die.”

  Her words sent a ripple of unease through the encampment. Even the bravest among them could not ignore the severity of her tone. And yet, before anyone could press for more information, she glanced one last time at the red-robed individual and took to the sky once more, vanishing into the darkness.

  High above, Yeba watched as Vienna returned from her encounter. He frowned. “What do they want? Who was that person?”

  Vienna’s voice was quiet but firm. “They intend to go to where the abomination is. And that individual… it’s her.”

  Yeba’s eyes widened momentarily before he slowly nodded. Without another word, the two Archmages took off, their figures disappearing into the night as they flew at incredible speed.

  Back on the ground, Grand Duke Edric Vernhardt stood in deep contemplation. The Archmage’s warning echoed in his mind. He looked around at his group, noting the fear in their eyes, the way their bodies remained tense, the uncertainty lingering in the air.

  Then, with a resolute expression, he clenched his jaw and made his decision.

  “Proceed with the hunt.”