Calmly, Mordret crouched near the wall, lowering himself to his knees.
Small tears began to stream from his eyes as his expression shifted into something close to despair.
He started gasping, pressing his hands against his chest.
"Haa... haa!"
Cries of terror burst from his mouth, his eyes trembling.
Within moments, Master Pierce and Welthe stood at the front, carrying lanterns that lit the entire path.
"What the hell?" Pierce muttered, slightly unsettled.
They saw the destroyed portal, and a body with its head severed lying on the ground, the head discarded beside it.
And there was Toshi...
The man was kneeling, looking like he was about to collapse. His condition was horrible.
"Toshi! Are you—" one of the Lost tried to step forward, but was stopped by Pierce's iron arm.
"Wait..."
The Lost complied silently, stepping back without hesitation.
"Toshinori... what happened?" Welthe asked, her tone suspicious. The sharp eyes of the Masters carefully analyzed the young man.
"Are you... are you going to kill me too?" Toshi's trembling voice reached them, fear written across his face.
Then suddenly, Toshi's body shook. It looked like he was having a panic attack.
"Yes! You're just like him! All of you are him!" In a horrifying act, Toshi began clawing at his eye, in a failed attempt to stop seeing.
"Calm down! We're not him!" one of the Lost shouted.
Toshi stopped for a moment before staring at them.
"You don't understand! He took Olly's body! I had to kill him with my own hands!"
The young man's chest flexed rapidly, collapse seeming imminent.
That sent chills through everyone, as they couldn't imagine what kind of terror the creature had caused.
Toshi slowly stood up, beginning to rip strands of hair from his head.
"How can I know he isn't one of you?! He could be anyone!"
"Hum..." Pierce observed with cold eyes, feeling his throat go dry.
"That thing... it devours souls! It's going to devour mine!"
Silence settled in as the Lost stood shocked by Toshi's words. But the Masters weren't shaken—only the cold determination in their eyes deepened.
Welthe turned to one of the Lost, expecting an answer.
When the Lost shook his head no, she nodded.
"How do you know it devours souls?" Master Welthe asked, not a trace of empathy in her voice.
"Isn't it obvious?! He took Olly's body!" Toshi shouted, placing his hands behind his back.
Apprehension bloomed in the hearts of the Lost. Even discipline wasn't enough to overcome the fear in their souls.
Pierce, who had been silent, gritted his teeth in resignation before finally speaking:
"If he had taken Olly's body, you'd be dead right now."
His words fell over everyone like a heavy rock, something cold seeping into the atmosphere.
Toshi went quiet at Pierce's statement, seemingly unable to think of a good response.
The lamps inside the room flickered, going out one by one. The air now felt hot, while the shadows in the hall deepened.
First came the smell — dry, metallic, like stone heating too fast.
Darkness was born in Toshi's eyes as the expression of despair slowly faded, replaced by a serene face.
His lips curved upward in a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"Wow... to think I'd be discovered so quickly..."
The ground beneath his feet began to crack.
Toshi slowly raised his arms, almost in reverence.
Heat gathered at the center of the temple.
Between his fingers, a spark was born.
"Here's your reward..."
The arms that had been crossed behind his back were raised toward the small army.
"Infernal Flames..." A whisper echoed from the darkness.
A blazing wall rose with a dull roar, devouring the oxygen in the hall. The heat struck the Lost before the light even reached them.
The air was ripped from their lungs.
Someone tried to scream — the sound died halfway out.
Clothes began to smolder.
Skin burned as if space itself had turned into a furnace.
"Welthe!" Pierce roared.
The Master advanced without hesitation, positioning herself in front of the group. Her body became the dividing line between hell and the survivors.
The flames crashed against her with crushing violence.
The impact illuminated the entire temple in incandescent white.
Pierce raised his arm, deflecting part of the wave of fire toward the ceiling. The stone above cracked, incandescent fragments falling like rain.
But not everyone was protected.
One Lost who had stepped slightly beyond the safe line was caught at the edge of the attack.
For a second, he stood still.
A silhouette wrapped in light.
Then the fire swallowed him.
There was no time to run.
A cry of anguish tore through the air, echoing across the temple.
The figure became a trembling shadow within the flames — and then only charcoal that crumbled upon touching the ground.
The smell of ash filled the hall.
The heat remained.
Invisible waves distorted the air, making faces look unreal, like reflections in boiling water.
"Shit!" Pierce charged through the fire.
Like thunder, his fist cut through the space between him and Toshi.
At the same time, the flames began to collapse, retracting toward the center.
When the view cleared, Welthe was still standing.
Her skin was marked, red, burned — but the wounds began closing before everyone's eyes, as if her own body refused to accept the damage.
At the center of the hall, Toshi remained motionless.
Or what was left of him.
His body was blackened, charred, red cracks glowing beneath the surface like hidden embers.
For a disturbing instant, he looked like a statue molded from hell itself.
And then— his lips moved.
A white smile, glowing too brightly on that darkened face.
Pierce was already there.
His fist struck Toshi's chest with devastating force.
The body exploded into fragments of charcoal, scattering across the floor in a dry, brittle rain.
The echo of the impact reverberated through the temple.
The charcoal fragments were still rolling across the floor when silence settled in, broken only by the residual crackling of scattered embers.
The heat lingered in the air, too heavy to breathe easily. Every breath scraped at the throat.
Pierce kept his fist clenched for a second longer than necessary, as if expecting something to react.
What remained of Toshi lay scattered in blackened pieces, fragile as ancient bones.
Welthe stepped forward.
Her face was already fully restored — smooth skin, red hair falling intact over her shoulders. Only sweat betrayed the effort.
"Is he dead?" someone asked, their voice breaking mid-sentence.
One of the Lost approached with excessive caution, extending the tip of his boot to touch one of the fragments.
The charcoal crumbled at the slightest contact.
Pierce narrowed his eyes.
"Yes... actually, it was too easy..." Welthe murmured.
She continued:
"There's no telling what that monster's intentions are. It feels like nothing it does makes sense..."
Pierce crouched once more, examining the spot where the body had been.
There was no residue, no lingering presence.
It was as if that had only been... a shell.
His eyes narrowed. His expression shifted in realization.
"He wanted us to see this."
The sentence came out low, almost like a thought.
A young woman hugged her own arms and said uneasily:
"If it weren't for the Masters… I would've believed it really was Toshi…"
The words lingered in the air.
Welthe slowly turned, analyzing every face.
The fear there was no longer of the scorching fire, or even the monster.
People began looking at each other suspiciously, at first subtly.
Then more carefully, studying their companions.
One Lost took half a step away from another, almost imperceptibly.
Another adjusted his posture, as if suddenly realizing he was surrounded.
Nearly a hundred people showed similar stances.
And no one truly knew what had just happened.
Pierce raised his voice:
"Close formation. We're moving. The portal's condition has been confirmed."
But the order brought no comfort.
Formation against what?
Against whom?
One man wiped his hands on his tunic, though there was no dirt on them.
Another adjusted the lantern's position, subtly moving it away from the face of the companion beside him.
A third noticed the gesture — and took half a step back.
Welthe was watching.
Pierce too.
But not even the Masters could watch everyone at the same time.
At the back of the group, one of the Lost slightly tilted his head, as if analyzing an interesting painting.
His eyes moved across the surrounding faces.
Lingering a little longer than necessary.
Then a faint smile — so subtle it could've been mistaken for exhaustion — touched his lips.
It lasted only an instant.
When someone turned toward him, his expression was already neutral.
The formation began to move.
Footsteps echoed through the burned temple.
And, for some reason, no one walked exactly beside anyone else.
The temple remained hot, the air warped by fading flames.
Even so, the cold in their hearts only grew.