The air changed before anyone spoke a word.
Alexius's breath shortened, and even the horses, tied outside, neighed as if they sensed something they shouldn't.
The group advanced into Mount Arf, walking through a corridor of dark, cold stone that seemed carved not by hands, but by something alive.
The torches Alexius lit seemed far too timid.
The flame was only a whisper, and the light barely touched the walls.
— Listen carefully — said the sensei, his voice firm and urgent — No shadow must ever touch you. If one does, light the spot immediately and pull back. They don't wound the body — they erase it. Mana, flesh, soul… everything you are, they devour.
No one answered.
Only their footsteps echoed, restrained, rhythmic, as if even sound feared to wander too far.
The corridor ended in a space so vast the ceiling was lost to darkness.
The ground was uneven, cracked, and broken pillars rose like the ribs of a dead giant.
The dust seemed alive, moving in slow spirals, and for an instant Arthur had the impression the floor was breathing.
Then they saw them.
The shadows.
They slid across the walls, gaining form. Others rose from the floor like liquid smoke — some thin as threads, others dense as fog.
There were many, dozens, maybe hundreds, each one different.
Some had tall, stretched silhouettes with arms that reached farther than they should.
Others crawled, as if they had more than four limbs.
Some bore pointed ears; others, strange shapes along the torso; one even seemed to have a face that opened on more than one side.
No one could name what they saw.
But instinct whispered that all of them were dangerous.
The first one attacked.
Shirō reacted fast, swinging his sword — the strike passed straight through, offering no resistance.
The shadow slipped through the metal like wind.
— Only light can hurt them! — shouted Alexius.
With the help of the crystal bound to his glove, Alexius summoned embers that leapt and touched the weapons around him, granting those without fire-based magic a way to defend themselves.
Kidero wrapped his blade in flames.
Ayame raised her fists, and her gloves began to glow, vibrating with her electricity.
Kazuko hesitated, the poison within him pulsing uncertainly — until Alexius touched his blade with fire, making the metal blaze in green and gold.
Arthur and Mia stood side by side.
She made the wind whirl around them, creating small sparks.
He kept his gaze fixed, eyes sharp for every movement.
The battle began.
Flames cut through the dark, punches burst in flashes, and each time a weapon shone, a shadow dissolved.
They didn't burn — they vanished.
The light erased them as if they had never existed.
The weaker ones faded in seconds; the denser ones trembled, resisted, before turning into luminous dust.
Kazuko stepped back amid the chaos, chest heaving.
His fingers trembled on the hilt.
— Hey! — Arthur called, still fighting. — If you're gonna be scared, make it after this! Right now, we finish it!
Kazuko gritted his teeth, gripping the sword tighter.
The venom reacted, bubbling with a faint glow.
He lunged — and the shadow before him split in two.
The battle stretched on for minutes that felt like hours.
Light, flashes, silence.
The shadows came from every direction, and even when they vanished, others took their place.
Ayame spun between punches and kicks, the sparks from her gloves slicing the air like stars.
Kidero carved a burning path across the floor.
Mia steered the wind, deflecting the fastest strikes.
Alexius fought with precision, the flames moving to the rhythm of his breath.
Until, at last, the hall fell quiet.
The echo of the final blow faded and died.
The shadows were gone.
But the air — the air did not return to normal.
Arthur glanced around.
The columns quivered slightly.
From the cracks in the walls and ceiling, new shapes began to emerge.
They did not advance.
They watched.
One, two, ten, twenty shadows, all standing still, as if the world had forgotten to send them away.
Then they began to move — slowly — toward each other.
The group stepped back.
The shadows touched, and what had been thin stains became a whirlpool.
Bodies fused, faces vanished, limbs intertwined.
The glow from their weapons flickered.
A deep, muffled sound echoed from the ground — like a roar trapped inside stone.
The whirlpool grew.
From within, something lifted its torso — four long arms, an immense body, hollow eyes opening in the dark.
The final shadow — the reflection of all the others — breathed.
— Form the circle! — Alexius shouted.
The ground shook.
The light recoiled.
And the Guardian took its first step — splitting the silence as if tearing the world in two.