Clive opens his eyes and stares at the roof.
For several breaths, he does not move.
His mind feels heavy.
Fragments of memory drift like broken glass in murky water.
He cannot immediately distinguish what is real and what is a dream.
While unconscious, he dreamed of being a wolf.
Not merely seeing one.
Becoming one.
Running across endless plains under a sky filled with dark clouds.
Feeling strength ripple beneath fur.
Hearing distant howls that seemed both foreign and familiar.
Within that dream, knowledge descended upon him.
An alchemy inheritance.
Disaster Wolf Body.
A Title Alchemy inheritance from the way of Flesh and Blood.
The inheritance unfolded clearly in his mind, structured and complete.
If cultivated to completion, it would fully transform his body into a Disaster Wolf.
Not partial.
Not temporary.
Complete transformation.
The technique does not require even a percentage of Disaster Wolf blood.
Through Alchemy Array Rituals, the body can be reshaped step by step.
Bloodline of Disaster Wolf only accelerates cultivation.
It is not mandatory.
From that inheritance, he sees a straight path to the Title Alchemist Stage.
Clear.
Direct.
Tempting.
But his chest tightens.
His family was killed by the Church of Disaster.
That memory burns deeper than any wound.
Flames.
Screams.
Silence afterward.
Everything connected to the Church of Disaster disgusts him.
Even if the inheritance is powerful.
Even if it offers advancement.
He will not cultivate it.
He refuses.
Yet another thought unsettles him further.
If his family were related to the Church of Disaster—
Then why were they killed by members of the Church of Disaster?
The contradiction gnaws at him.
He sits up slowly in the bed.
The wooden frame creaks beneath his movement.
His body still aches faintly.
"I need to return home," he mutters to himself.
He swings his legs off the bed and stands.
The room is small.
Simple.
Unfamiliar.
He walks to the door and pulls it open slightly.
He peeks into the corridor.
It is empty.
Only a single steam light hums softly, casting a dim orange glow along stone walls.
No footsteps.
No voices.
The air feels still.
Night.
He steps fully into the corridor and looks toward both ends.
No guards.
No nurses.
No signs of urgency.
He comes to a quiet conclusion.
The Beast Tide must have ended.
Relief settles faintly in his chest.
He frowns slightly.
He does not know which direction leads outside.
He sighs and steps back into the room.
His eyes shift toward the window.
Without hesitation, he walks over and pushes it open.
Cool night air brushes his face.
He climbs onto the sill.
Then jumps.
He lands lightly on the ground outside.
Pain flickers along his ribs, but he ignores it.
He straightens and begins walking toward his residence.
He keeps close to the walls.
Moves through darker streets.
Avoids lantern light.
Hiding within shadows as he disappears into the sleeping town.
Clive moves quietly through narrow streets, keeping close to walls where lantern light cannot reach him.
The town feels different from the chaos he remembers.
No roars.
No explosions.
Only the distant hum of night insects and the occasional creak of wooden shutters in the wind.
After a few minutes, he reaches the house assigned to them.
He pushes the door open slowly and steps inside.
The hinges creak faintly.
The moment he closes the door behind him, two doors open upstairs.
Footsteps follow.
Clive glances toward the staircase.
At the top, Rosalyn appears.
Beside her stands another woman.
Rosalyn leans slightly over the railing and notices him.
"Clive, when did you wake up?"
Clive steps into the living room.
"A few minutes ago."
He walks toward the furniture and sits down casually, though his attention shifts immediately to the woman behind Rosalyn.
Something inside him tightens.
His senses sharpen.
Instinct whispers a warning.
Run.
The danger radiating from that woman is far greater than what he senses from Rosalyn.
Rosalyn notices where his gaze rests.
She glances back at the woman.
"Clive, meet General Elodie, who drove away the Crocodile Tiger and the beast tide."
Clive's eyes widen.
He stands immediately.
His posture straightens as he bows respectfully.
"General."
Elodie studies him briefly.
Her expression remains calm.
She nods once.
Then turns to Rosalyn.
"I am going back to my room."
Rosalyn nods.
They both watch as Elodie walks away along the corridor above until she disappears from view.
Silence returns to the house.
Clive looks back at Rosalyn.
"When did the beast tide end?"
"This morning," Rosalyn replies.
Clive nods slowly.
He stands again.
"Is there any room left?"
He had already noticed the arrangement upstairs.
Two rooms on the upper floor.
Elodie must have taken his.
Rosalyn gestures toward the hallway downstairs.
"All rooms downstairs are empty."
She points toward a door.
"I kept your luggage in that room."
Clive's eyes widen slightly.
Then another thought strikes him.
"What happened to Ben, Cale, and William?"
A shadow passes across Rosalyn's face.
"Ben and Cale died," she says quietly.
"And William went to stay with the Frozen Knights."
Clive feels the words settle heavily inside him.
Ben's laughter.
Cale's constant complaints.
Gone.
Just like that.
He exhales slowly.
"What a loss."
Rosalyn sighs as well.
"I'm going back to my room to sleep."
Clive nods.
He watches her turn and climb the stairs.
Her steps are slower than usual.
Exhaustion still clings to her movements.
She disappears into the upper corridor.
A moment later, he hears a door open.
Then close.
The house grows quiet again.
Clive stands alone in the living room.
He sighs once more and walks toward the room Rosalyn indicated.
He opens the door.
His luggage sits neatly in the corner.
Without another word, he steps inside.
-------
Inside the cavern below the mine, the air is thick with damp stone and a faint metallic scent from exposed ore.
The red crystal veins embedded in the walls glow dimly, casting uneven light across the hollow chamber.
Larissa stands near the centre of the cavern.
Alden sits calmly on a flat stone ledge.
Nick occupies a rough rock nearby, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the glowing ore veins.
Silence lingers for a moment before Nick speaks.
"Should we stop spreading the corruption?"
His voice echoes faintly against the cavern walls.
Larissa lowers her gaze, thinking.
They spread the corruption intentionally.
A slow poison woven into the town.
It seeps into wells.
Into food stores.
Into the breath of ordinary people.
People fall ill.
Bodies weaken.
Deaths accumulate.
With sickness spreading through the town, the authorities become overwhelmed.
Doctors and alchemists focus on curing disease rather than investigating deeper.
No one looks too closely at the mine.
It was an effective distraction.
But the cost has been high.
Larissa shifts her eyes toward Alden.
He alone can purify the corruption among them.
His golden eyes remain closed as if he is resting.
Then they open.
"No," Alden says calmly.
"We will not be stopping."
Nick straightens slightly.
Larissa and Nick both look toward him, waiting.
Alden's voice remains steady.
"I want to break a hole into the spirit world so that the Lord can descend here."
Nick stares at him in disbelief.
Then he jumps to his feet.
"Are you mad?" he demands.
"How can that be accomplished by the three of us?"
Alden glances at him briefly.
"There are not only three of us."
His voice carries quiet certainty.
"Yaluv and his unit should already be making their way toward the town."
Nick's anger falters slightly.
Still, doubt remains clear in his face.
Alden pauses in thought before speaking again.
"We have another."
His golden gaze shifts toward Larissa.
"You fought one of us from the old faction."
Larissa frowns in confusion.
"You think she will help us instead of stopping us?"
Alden shrugs lightly.
"We may belong to different factions," he says, "but the god we believe in is the same."
His lips curl faintly.
"So why should she not help us?"
Larissa considers the words carefully.
Despite faction differences, their faith is identical.
They all worship the same Lord.
The logic feels disturbingly reasonable.
Slowly, she nods.
Nick looks between them both with unease.
"Did you two forget about the army outside the town?"
The question hangs heavily in the cavern.
Larissa turns her gaze toward Alden again.
If anyone here has a solution, it is him.
Alden smiles.
Before he answers, a strange sound spreads through the cavern.
Squeaking.
Soft at first.
Then multiplying.
Larissa and Nick both turn toward the noise.
From holes scattered throughout the cavern walls, rats begin emerging.
Dozens.
Then hundreds.
They crawl across the stone floor.
Climb the cavern walls.
Soon, the red crystal ore is completely hidden beneath the moving swarm.
A foul smell spreads with them.
The stench of rot.
Of corpses.
Larissa feels the hairs along her neck rise.
Her senses sharpen.
She realises something horrifying.
The rats have no heartbeat.
They are dead.
Yet they move.
Larissa and Nick stare back at Alden in shock.
Alden's smile widens.
"We will be blessed after the Lord descends."
He begins laughing.
A low, growing laughter filled with anticipation.
Around the cavern, the dead rats emit shrill squeaks that echo like mockery.
To Larissa and Nick, it sounds like laughter following Alden's own.
Fear grips their hearts.