"Did you hear about the Night Wolves?"
Two knights whispered near the training grounds, eyes darting.
"Twelve of them. Dead."
"Not just dead. Erased. Like someone sliced them up with invisible butter knives."
"No mana traces. No footprints. Just claw marks on trees—and fear in the squirrels' eyes."
Ash Autumn lay in the grass nearby, pretending to nap. Again.
Internally, though?
That was totally me.
But externally?
He snored.
A light tap hit his forehead. "Onii-sama," said a calm, authoritative voice.
Ash cracked one eye open.
Ariana Autumn. Four years old. Blonde. Brilliant. And far too mature for someone who still occasionally rode magic bunnies.
She stood over him with her arms crossed. "You're pretending to sleep again."
"…No, I was meditating."
"In a drool puddle?"
"…Deep meditation."
Ariana sighed like a parent disappointed in her adult son. "Fine. But will you join me for afternoon sparring? I'm trying a new elemental sequence."
Ash yawned and rolled over. "Rain check. I had a long dream about being a potato again."
"I'm sure the dream was enlightening. But you really should stretch more. You creak like an old staircase."
She patted his head with the elegance of a high mage and walked off.
Ash sat up.
Behind the lazy grin, his mind raced.
Twelve wolves… defeated. No one suspects a thing.
Good.
Time for Round 2.
---
Midnight.
House Autumn slumbered.
Ash? Wide awake.
Curtains for a cloak. Face hidden. Cool pose in the hallway mirror: engaged.
"Operation Op: Phase Two," he whispered dramatically. "
His destination? The Wolfven Forest. Again.
But this time, something felt… different.
Mana thickened the air. Shadows pulsed unnaturally.
Then he saw it.
An old dungeon, half-buried in vines and ancient bricks.
Two men in black and red robes stood guard outside.
Cultists.
Oho? Things just got interesting.
Ash activated Shadow Step, gliding past the guards like a leaf in the wind.
Inside, torches lit the gloom. Echoes of chanting bounced off cracked walls.
He reached a large chamber.
At the center?
An unconscious elf girl, tied to a stone slab, surrounded by a dozen robed cultists.
Ash squinted. Pointy ears. Elegant features. Yup. Elf girl. Optional romance route material?
Then, from the far corridor, a figure entered.
Tall. Muscled. Dressed in white and red robes. His presence alone twisted the mana in the air.
Ash's eyebrow twitched. Main villain energy detected.
The man raised a sacrificial dagger. "O Great One, we offer the blood of a hero's descendant! Grant us power!"
The elf girl didn't move.
Ash blinked. Wait, is this like an arc Where the cult tries summoning a demon with an elf girl?
Suddenly, a crack formed above the altar.
A massive, clawed demon hand erupted from the portal, reaching toward the elf girl.
Ash's instincts kicked in.
Nope.
He blurred forward, sliced clean through the demon's arm, and landed on the altar.
Blood. Screaming. Cultists falling over like bowling pins.
"WHO DARES—"
Ash raised his head slowly, cloak fluttering, face in shadows.
His voice dropped to a deep, theatrical whisper.
"Where the light ends… I begin. I am… the Phantom."
Silence.
Then screaming.
"Kill him!"
The cultists lunged.
Ash cracked his neck.
"Fine. Let's play."
---
One-Sided Beatdown.
The first cultist charged with a fire-infused sword.
Ash ducked.
Sliced the sword in half.
Then the guy's pants fell down for no reason. (Unrelated, probably.)
Second cultist tried to summon a shadow beast.
Ash pointed at him.
Boom. Spontaneous nosebleed and magical feedback.
Third guy slipped on his own robes and knocked out the fourth guy.
Ash didn't even blink.
The leader, fuming, released a terrifying demonic aura that shook the walls.
His eyes turned black. Fangs grew.
"You dare interrupt the sacred ritual of The Demon Cult?!"
Ash raised an eyebrow. "You named your cult The Demon Cult? That's… pretty on the nose."
The leader screamed and charged.
Demonic flames flared.
Ash casually sidestepped.
Palm to the gut. Energy pulse. The leader flew into the wall like a haunted potato.
Then Ash pointed two fingers at the summoning portal.
Mana surged.
"Time to shut this party down."
BOOM.
The portal cracked, sputtered, then imploded with a whiny fwoop, like a vacuum cleaner choking on spaghetti.
Dungeon walls crumbled.
Ash grabbed the elf girl, who was still unconscious.
He soared upward, bursting out through the roof in a swirl of black wind and epicness.
---
Top of a Mountain. Dawn.
Ash landed gracefully, holding the elf girl like a knight from a romance manga cover.
The wind blew his cloak dramatically.
"She's safe now," he whispered to no one, staring into the distance. "Good thing I only used 10% power…"
Then—
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
The elf girl jolted awake, saw him, and promptly screamed.
Ash screamed back out of reflex.
She flailed.
He slipped.
They both fell down the mountain slope in a tangle of limbs, cloaks, and awkward apologies.
---
Later.
Ash, with twigs in his hair, sat beside the elf girl at the bottom of the mountain.
She blinked at him, dazed.
"Did you… save me?"
Ash nodded, casually striking a cool pose while pretending he wasn't covered in dirt. "Yes. I'm a wandering… uhh… shadow janitor."
"Shadow… janitor?"
"Exactly. I clean up messes the light can't reach."
She looked awestruck. "What's your name?"
"…Phantom."
"Your full name?"
"…Just Phantom."
Fay, for that was her name (he figured this out when she mumbled it while falling), stared at him like he was a celestial being.
Across from him, Fay was seated, clutching a blanket he'd given her. Her cheeks were a little red.
"So…" she began softly, glancing up at him, "you're really called Phantom?"
Ash paused. "Yup. Totally real name. Birth certificate and everything."
She giggled. "You're… really strange."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Ash sat cross-legged on the grass, dramatically backlit by the setting sun like he was in a movie—completely ignoring the fact that he'd screamed like a squirrel earlier.
Fay was wrapped in a blanket beside him, her silver hair fluttering in the breeze. She glanced at him, hesitant.
"Phantom… can I ask you something?"
Ash nodded coolly, already planning to say something mysterious and vague.
"How… did you know? About the cult. About the ritual. About me?"
Ash froze.
Crap. She noticed.
He quickly composed himself, then spoke in his deepest, coolest voice:
"I knew… because I always know. I am the shadow in the night. The eye that never blinks. The nose that smells evil."
"…The nose?"
"I have… an Evil Sniffing Technique."
Fay stared.
Ash coughed. "What I mean is… I've been following 'The Demon Cult' for a while. You know, ancient prophecy, villainous robes, suspiciously loud evil laughter. The usual stuff."
Fay raised a brow. "So… you're like… a shadow detective?"
Ash's ego inflated three sizes. "Exactly. But cooler. I'm like… if a ninja married a thunderstorm and their child had a tragic backstory."
"That… makes absolutely no sense."
"And yet you believe me, don't you?"
"…A little," she admitted with a smile. "So, you've been tracking the Demon Cult this whole time?"
Ash nodded, lying through his teeth. "Oh yes. Since their very first evil bake sale. I've been onto them. The cookies were way too dry."
Fay giggled. "You're really strange…"
Ash crossed his arms, serious. "That's what they said about the great heroes too."
"…They also died tragically."
"Which is why I'm staying strangely alive."
Fay laughed again, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I'm glad… you were there. Thank you, Phantom."
Ash tilted his head smugly. "Just doing my job. If the job is beating cultists, slicing demon arms, and making dramatic entrances."
And as they stood up to leave the forest, the sun rising behind them, Ash muttered under his breath:
"…Why do I feel like I just unlocked a new misunderstanding route?"