Earl Elliot sits alone in his office.
Documents lie open before him, but his eyes do not focus on the ink.
His mind lingers on the sounds from last night.
The distant roar.
The tremor reached even the castle walls.
He rubs his hands together unconsciously.
Please let it be wandering knights, he prays silently.
Let it be a spirit beast hunted down.
Not them.
Not before Elena's coming-of-age ceremony.
Not before the banquet.
A knock interrupts his thoughts.
He stiffens.
"Enter."
The housekeeper steps inside.
One glance at the man's face makes Elliot frown.
"What happened again?"
"Earl, someone from the Special Investigation Department has arrived."
Elliot's chair scrapes against the floor as he half-rises.
"What?"
He forces himself back down.
"How many?"
"Only one introduced herself from the department. The other four appear to be her guards."
"What is her name?"
"Rosalyn Bell."
"Bell?"
He tilts his head.
"Is there any noble house named Bell?"
He waves his hand quickly.
"Do not mention those who bought their titles."
"No, Earl."
He exhales.
"A civilian then."
His confidence returns.
"Bring her to my office."
The housekeeper bows and exits.
Minutes later, the door opens again.
A woman enters first.
A man follows behind her.
Elliot's expression hardens.
"I told you only the woman."
Rosalyn answers calmly.
"He is my team member."
Elliot's gaze sharpens.
"Girl, I did not ask you."
Rosalyn releases her aura.
Official Alchemist.
The air in the room tightens instantly.
Pressure descends.
Elliot's confidence falters.
"Earl, I am not your subordinate. I come under the Crown's order to investigate the Davies family murder case. I need you to call Shane Wilson."
The authority in her tone leaves no room for dismissal.
The Earl swallows.
Minutes later, arrangements are made.
They are escorted to a large two-story guest house on the castle grounds.
The housekeeper gestures.
"You five may stay here during your visit."
Rosalyn nods.
They enter.
Clive's eyes scan every corner automatically.
Windows.
Entrances.
Blind spots.
After checking each room briefly, Rosalyn turns to the three apprentice knights.
"You three stay downstairs."
They nod.
Rosalyn and Clive ascend the staircase.
Their footsteps echo softly.
Halfway up, Rosalyn speaks.
"How can we investigate the case with Shane Wilson dead?"
Clive's expression remains thoughtful.
"We know enough."
He looks at her directly.
"The Church of Disaster wants the manager position at the mine. Or they want no manager at all. Either way, the goal is control."
Rosalyn nods slowly.
"So that leaves one man."
"Neil Smith."
Clive confirms with a slight nod.
"We need to question him," Rosalyn says.
Clive stops walking for a moment.
"No, Rosalyn."
She frowns.
"Why not?"
"If we question him directly, we alert him. If he is involved, he will either run or erase evidence."
Rosalyn considers this.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Clive resumes walking.
"We observe first."
Rosalyn stands in the corridor, facing him.
Doors line both sides.
The wooden floor reflects faint afternoon light from the windows at the end of the hall.
She studies his face for several seconds.
He remains calm.
Certain.
Finally, she nods.
"Very well. We watch Neil Smith first."
Clive inclines his head once.
No more words are needed.
They separate.
Each enters their own room.
The corridor falls silent.
,
Deep beneath the mine.
Beyond shafts abandoned long ago.
A cavern breathes in dim crimson light.
The walls are lined with red, crystal-like metal veins.
Blood Iron ore.
They pulse faintly, as if alive.
Metallic energy seeps from the ores, flowing in thin streams along carved channels in the rock.
All streams converge toward the centre.
There, upon a stone platform, sits a man.
Alden.
He wears a crown.
The Eternal Blood Crown.
Red crystal spikes form its rim.
At its centre rests a larger core crystal, dark and dense.
Metallic energy flows upward from the ground and pours into the crown.
Alden's eyes remain closed.
The red light reflects across his pale face.
Energy feeds him.
Refines him.
Strengthens him.
Footsteps echo softly.
Larissa and Nick enter the cavern.
Nick's face is tense.
"We should start the plan."
Larissa does not look at him immediately.
"We cannot."
She strides forward, eyes fixed on Alden.
"We had an agreement. The plan begins the night of the coming-of-age ceremony."
Nick's jaw tightens.
"Throw the agreement into the Abyss Tunnel. Investigators arrived. The first person they suspect will be me."
Larissa remains silent.
The metallic energy continues flowing into Alden's crown.
Nick's voice lowers.
"If they capture me, I will say everything."
Before the final word leaves his mouth,
Larissa moves.
She appears before him in a blur.
Her hand grips his throat.
She lifts him effortlessly and slams him against the cavern wall.
Rock cracks slightly.
"Nick," she says coldly, "listen."
He struggles to breathe.
"We selected you from a list of a thousand candidates. We are confident in your ability to change your appearance. So remain calm."
Nick lowers his gaze.
Silent.
"If you are caught," she continues, eyes burning, "we will free you. Do you understand?"
She releases him.
He drops to the ground.
Coughing.
He nods.
"Ok."
Larissa turns away from him.
She stops mid-step.
"But we still should not allow them to enter the mine."
Alden's golden eyes open slowly.
They glow faintly under the crimson light.
"I have a way."
Larissa looks at him.
"What?"
Alden explains quietly.
The cavern hums.
,
Night falls over Arlen Town.
In his room, Clive sits cross-legged.
Moonlight spills faintly through the window.
He closes his eyes.
His spirit descends inward.
He begins carving the final runes across his skull.
Careful.
Precise.
Each rune etches itself in luminous lines.
When the final line completes,
All the runes on his bones ignite simultaneously.
Light pulses beneath his skin.
The Spirit Bone Array activates fully.
Inside his spirit space, the Blood Spirit remains silent.
It does not resonate.
The energies do not match.
The runes gradually dim.
But something changes.
Within his bones,
A particle forms.
Tiny.
Brilliant.
A Spirit particle.
It slips from the bone into the bloodstream.
Clive's breathing slows.
His eyelids grow heavy.
Without warning,
He collapses backwards onto the wooden floor.
Sleep takes him instantly.
,
He dreams.
He is no longer human.
He is a wolf.
Black fur.
Sharp claws.
Part of a pack.
They sleep together under cold moonlight.
They hunt together across dark plains.
He runs with them.
Fangs tearing flesh.
Claws cutting through prey.
Black energy wraps around his limbs.
Grass withers where he steps.
The pack defends its territory against other spirit beasts.
Blood.
Howls.
Dominance.
Outside in reality,
Disaster energy begins to leak from Clive's body.
Black fur sprouts along his back.
His spine arches slightly.
Transformation begins.
The Disaster Wolf returns.
Unconscious.
Uncontrolled.
Suddenly,
A complicated rune ignites on his forehead.
A seal.
It glows brightly.
The disaster energy halts.
The black fur retracts.
The transformation stops.
The room returns to stillness.
,
Inside the castle.
Larissa sits upright abruptly.
Her brows knit together.
"Was that my imagination?"
She felt it.
Disaster energy.
But not familiar.
Not like any she has encountered.
Before she can dwell further,
A roar splits the night.
Massive.
Recognizable.
The Crocodile Tiger.
Then more sounds follow.
Beast calls.
Multiple.
Larissa rushes to the window.
She looks down the hill toward the forest.
Torches flicker below as townsfolk awaken in panic.
From the treeline,
Spirit beasts emerge.
Crocodile Tiger at the front.
Behind it, wolves, serpents, boars, shadowed figures.
Even ordinary beasts join.
They surge outward.
Surrounding Arlen Town.
The layered roars tear through the night.
Clive jolts awake.
He pushes himself up from the wooden floor, mind still hazy from the dream.
Why did I fall asleep?
The last thing he remembers is completing the final rune.
Before he can trace the thought further, shouting erupts outside.
Doors slam.
People scream.
Beasts roar again, closer this time.
Clive rises immediately and pulls open his door.
Rosalyn's door across the corridor is already open.
He rushes downstairs.
The three apprentice knights stand outside the house, weapons drawn.
"Where is Rosalyn?" Clive demands.
"She went to the wall," one replies quickly.
Clive nods and runs.
The streets are chaotic.
Townsfolk stand frozen outside their homes, some clutching children.
Town guards sprint past, fastening armour straps and gripping spears and muskets as they head toward the perimeter.
The beast calls grow louder.
Clive reaches the rampart.
The town's defence is simple: two thick wooden walls with rock, stone, and packed dirt between them forming a crude barrier.
It will not hold long against spirit beasts.
He looks left and right.
A ladder rests against the inner wall.
Guards line up to climb.
Clive joins behind them.
One by one, they ascend.
When his turn comes, he climbs swiftly and pulls himself onto the top.
From the wall, he sees it clearly.
The forest churns.
Beasts pour out.
Wolves, boars, horned deer, serpents.
Most ordinary.
But among them,
He feels the pressure of spirit beasts.
Multiple.
The wooden wall trembles faintly as the first wave approaches.
Guards begin firing.
Arrows arc into the night.
Steam rifles crack sharply.
Clive reaches for his guns.
His hand finds nothing.
He left them behind.
He exhales once.
Shadows gather in his palm.
He lifts his hand and casts.
Shadow Arrow.