The Chanlong Hills of Chandel District were known for their silence.
During the day, the hills breathed gently with the wind. Tall grasses swayed like waves across the slopes, and forests stretched endlessly into the horizon. But recently, that silence had been broken.
For the past two weeks, villagers living near the foothills had reported terrifying noises in the dead of night. The sound resembled the roar of a beast—deep, distorted, unnatural. It did not sound like any known animal. It echoed across the hills, shaking windows and freezing hearts.
Livestock refused to leave barns after sunset. Dogs barked uncontrollably at nothing. Children cried in their sleep.
Fear slowly spread.
Unable to endure it any longer, the villagers reported the disturbance to the local police station.
The police investigated for several nights but found nothing. No footprints. No broken fences. No signs of wild animals. Yet the sound continued.
Eventually, the case was forwarded to the only organization capable of handling such incidents. The Thawai Society
Late afternoon. A black vehicle rolled into the police compound.
The engine stopped. The door opened.
A man stepped out.
He wore an orange jockey cap, long hair tied loosely at the back, simple long pants, and a plain jacket. His expression was calm, almost bored—but his presence carried weight.
A sorcerer.
He walked toward a group of officers waiting near the entrance.
"Information," he said simply.
One of the policemen quickly explained the situation—the noises, the failed investigations, the villagers' fear.
The sorcerer listened silently.
He was then escorted to the senior police officer in charge of the district.
The senior officer stood straight and saluted respectfully.
"Sir."
The sorcerer gave a small nod.
They entered the jeep and began driving toward Chanlong Hills.
On the way, the senior officer asked carefully, "Should we go to the village first, sir?"
The sorcerer smiled faintly.
"Yes. Investigation comes before action."
The officer nodded.
This was not an ordinary man.
His name was Taiyai Mitamcha, a registered field operative of the Thawai Society.
The jeep arrived before sunset.
Villagers gathered immediately. Faces were pale with anxiety. Some elders stepped forward to explain.
"The sound comes from that side," one elder said, pointing toward the deeper forest area. "Always after midnight."
Mitamcha listened without interruption.
He observed the environment carefully—the wind pattern, the energy in the air, the spiritual density.
There was disturbance.
Not strong.
But unnatural.
After gathering all necessary information, Mitamcha said calmly:
"Stay indoors tonight. Lock your doors. Do not come outside no matter what you hear."
His voice carried authority.
The villagers agreed.
As the sun disappeared behind the hills, darkness slowly covered Chanlong.
Leikot – The Protective Barrier
Night.
The air grew colder.
Mitamcha stood alone at the edge of the forest. The senior police officer stood nearby.
"Sir, will you need backup from our side?"
Mitamcha glanced at him.
"No. Just keep civilians away."
He stepped forward.
Closing his eyes, he raised one hand.
"Leikot."
A faint shimmer expanded outward from his body like an invisible wave.
This was not a small Ingon barrier.
This was a large-scale Tha technique.
A Leikot—a protective boundary that covered the entire area, preventing external evil forces from entering and isolating what was already inside.
The forest felt sealed.
Mitamcha exhaled slowly.
"Now… let's see what hides here."
Beside him stood his Sagoi Uchek.
A massive black Pitbull, muscular and imposing, with mysterious markings glowing faintly on its forehead.
Unlike normal animals, this was a spirit companion bound through ritual Tha.
Its senses were far beyond human capability.
"Search," Mitamcha commanded quietly.
The Sagoi Uchek lowered its nose and moved forward.
Mitamcha followed.
The Warehouse in the Forest
They walked deep into the forest.
Too deep.
This part of Chanlong Hills was rarely visited.
After nearly thirty minutes, the Sagoi Uchek stopped.
Mitamcha narrowed his eyes.
Ahead, barely visible through the trees—
A structure.
A warehouse.
In the middle of nowhere.
Mitamcha frowned slightly.
"A warehouse here?"
It was old but not abandoned. The door was slightly open.
He signaled the Sagoi Uchek.
They entered.
Inside was darkness, dust, and silence.
No machinery.
No goods.
Only emptiness.
But in the center of the warehouse stood something strange.
A small tomb.
Mitamcha's expression changed slightly.
"A tomb… inside a warehouse?"
That made no sense.
He approached slowly.
"Check it."
The Sagoi Uchek sniffed around the tomb carefully.
It circled once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
No reaction.
No growling.
No warning.
Nothing.
Mitamcha felt uneasy.
Too quiet.
He took out his phone and sent a secure message to Thawai Society Headquarters:
"Suspicious structure discovered in Chanlong Hills. Possible ritual site. Requesting reinforcement."
Message sent.
He put the phone away and began examining the warehouse walls.
There were faint ritual markings carved into the wooden beams.
Old.
Very old.
He was analyzing one of the symbols when—
He felt it.
A presence.
Behind him.
Slowly, he turned.
A woman stood near the entrance.
She wore white cloth that flowed softly around her body. Her posture was calm. Almost elegant.
Mitamcha's eyes sharpened.
"Who are you?"
The woman spoke gently.
"My name is Hingthoileima."
Her voice was soothing.
Mitamcha stepped closer, keeping his guard up.
Then he saw her face clearly.
He froze.
Six red eyes.
Three on each side.
All staring directly at him.
A cold wave ran through his spine.
Before he could react—
A sudden force struck his face.
He was thrown backward, crashing into wooden crates.
The Sagoi Uchek roared and charged toward the attacker.
But the figure that struck him had already vanished.
Mitamcha stood up quickly, wiping blood from his lip.
He looked at Hingthoileima.
"Why did you attack me?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"That wasn't me," she said calmly. "That was my fellow worshiper."
Footsteps echoed behind her.
A familiar silhouette stepped forward.
Mitamcha's eyes widened.
"The senior officer…?"
The same man who guided him to the village.
Now his expression was different.
Cold.
Devoted.
Unshaken.
"You?" Mitamcha's voice hardened. "Why are you working with a Lairois?"
The officer folded his hands behind his back.
"These spirits are not evil," he said calmly. "They are guardians. My ancestors made a contract with her. In exchange for protection, our bloodline will serve her."
Mitamcha's anger rose.
"You call this protection? Terrorizing villagers?"
Hingthoileima smiled softly.
"My goal is not the villagers."
Mitamcha's eyes narrowed.
"Then what?"
She stepped forward.
"My true purpose… is resurrection."
Silence filled the warehouse.
"For centuries," she continued, "we have prepared. Ritual sites. Contracts. Bloodlines. All waiting for the right moment."
Her six eyes glowed faintly.
"I needed a sorcerer to arrive here. A suitable vessel. And now… you are here."
Mitamcha's expression darkened.
"You plan to take my soul."
"Yes."
"And use my body."
"Yes."
The senior officer spoke firmly, "You should feel honored."
Mitamcha's fingers tightened.
"You manipulated the police report."
"Yes."
"You created the noise to lure the Society."
"Yes."
Hingthoileima's voice remained calm.
"We planned carefully. Do not worry. It will be quick."
Mitamcha exhaled slowly.
Then he smiled.
"Either you die… or I die."
His aura shifted.
"We will know tonight."
Without warning, Mitamcha moved.
His speed was sharp and precise.
He aimed directly for Hingthoileima.
But before he could reach her—
The senior officer blocked him.
A strong Mi-enhanced punch collided with Mitamcha's arm.
The impact forced Mitamcha backward.
"You must defeat me first," the officer said calmly. "Only then may you approach my highness."
Mitamcha observed him carefully.
The officer's body refinement was high.
Not Makha Maithou level.
"You've trained."
"For generations."
The Sagoi Uchek lunged toward Hingthoileima again.
But invisible force repelled it.
Tha barrier.
Mitamcha clicked his tongue.
"So you can use Tha as well."
Hingthoileima watched silently.
She wasn't worried.
Mitamcha lowered his stance.
"Fine."
He channeled Mi through his body.
His muscles tightened. His breathing slowed.
The senior officer rushed forward.
Their fists collided again.
Shockwaves rattled the warehouse floor.
The officer fought with disciplined technique—calculated strikes, minimal wasted movement.
Mitamcha countered smoothly.
A sweep.
A block.
A sharp elbow.
The officer staggered slightly but regained balance.
"Impressive," Mitamcha muttered.
The Sagoi Uchek joined the fight, circling the officer.
The officer created a small Tha barrier to shield his flank.
Mitamcha noticed the opening.
He thrust his palm forward.
"Tha – Binding Seal!"
A glowing pattern formed beneath the officer's feet.
Chains of light shot upward.
The officer gritted his teeth and shattered them using brute Mi force.
"You think simple seals will hold me?"
Mitamcha smirked.
"They weren't meant to."
The Sagoi Uchek struck from behind.
The officer blocked but lost footing.
Mitamcha landed a heavy strike to his torso, sending him sliding across the floor.
The warehouse trembled.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Hingthoileima's eyes glowed brighter.
"Enough playing."
A sudden pressure filled the air.
Mitamcha felt it immediately.
Her presence was no ordinary Lairois.
It was ancient.
The small tomb in the center began to vibrate faintly.
Mitamcha glanced at it.
"So that's the ritual core."
He realized something dangerous.
This was only the beginning.
The officer stood again, breathing heavily but smiling.
"You are strong, Taiyai Mitamcha."
Mitamcha wiped sweat from his forehead.
"And you're foolish."
The officer's aura flared.
"For my family's oath… I will not fall."
He charged once more.
The battle resumed.
Outside, the Leikot barrier shimmered under the moonlight.
Inside the warehouse, destiny was unfolding.
Mitamcha understood one thing clearly—
This was not just an exorcism.
It was a long-prepared ritual.
And he had stepped directly into its center.
The officer launched another powerful strike.
Mitamcha blocked.
Wood shattered around them.
Hingthoileima raised one hand slowly.
Dark energy gathered.
Her voice echoed softly through the warehouse:
"The resurrection shall begin."
Mitamcha's eyes widened.
"Not if I stop it."
The clash intensified—
And the night of Chanlong Hills grew darker.