Chapter 22
In a world that seemed to have been born from peaceful dreams, the sun spread its warmth over vast stretches of lush greenery, while gentle breezes caressed the face of nature with tender hands. A flowing river meandered nearby, its serene currents whispering stories to the distant sea. The water shimmered under the brilliance of the clear sky, reflecting its vibrant hues.
On the riverbank, an elderly man stood, his white hair dancing with the wind as if it were part of the scene itself. His calm eyes gazed at the flowing water, a soft smile gracing his lips—one that carried a thousand untold stories.
In a quiet whisper, he murmured:
"What a beautiful world... truly wonderful."
He remained still, as if time itself had paused to share the tranquility of the moment with him. The melody of the water intertwined with the rustling of the tree branches, creating a harmonious symphony that enveloped the moment in a rare peace amidst the ever-constant chaos of life.
—
In the heart of the bustling city, a small pizza restaurant buzzed with chatter and laughter. Amid the lively atmosphere, Suero, Veb, and Baysal sat around a wooden table, their simple clothing masking their identities as sorcerers.
As he took a bite of his pizza, Veb broke the silence with his usual calm voice:
"I'm leaving."
Suero raised an eyebrow, his words piquing his curiosity:
"Where to?"
"To visit my sister, Yamato," Veb answered curtly.
Baysal paused mid-bite, her expression shifting to concern:
"Is she okay?"
"Yes." Veb's reply was cold, offering no further details.
As silence stretched between them, Suero suddenly leaned forward, his expression radiating excitement:
"Did you hear? I've been promoted to B-rank!"
He closed his eyes for a moment, expecting words of congratulations or at least some enthusiasm. But the silence lingered. When he opened them again, he was met with the indifferent gazes of Veb and Baysal. Their expressions alone told him that his announcement wasn't worth a reaction.
Suero sighed in frustration, slumping against the table.
"Is that really all I get?" he muttered.
Baysal, unfazed, took another bite of her pizza and replied flatly:
"What were you expecting?"
Veb suddenly stood up, tilting his head toward the door:
"I'm heading out."
Baysal waved him off with little interest:
"See you."
Now left alone with Baysal, Suero lifted his head and looked at her:
"Are you leaving too?"
Crossing her arms, Baysal sighed:
"I'm starting to get bored sitting here."
Suddenly, a spark lit in Suero's eyes, as if he had just remembered something important. He jumped to his feet:
"I almost forgot! There's a movie I wanted to see!"
Baysal raised an eyebrow:
"A movie? What's it about?"
Suero grinned with childlike excitement and explained:
"It's about an alien who lives on Mars but ends up on Earth by accident. He struggles to fit in, facing rejection from humans—until a girl falls in love with him. And from there, a strange romance unfolds, leading to their eventual marriage!"
Baysal's expression twisted in disgust:
"Romance? Ugh, I can't stand those kinds of stories."
She leaned back in her chair before adding with unexpected enthusiasm:
"Action—that's what excites me."
Suero hesitated before asking:
"Do you want to come with me?"
She shot him a sharp look that made him instinctively lean back:
"Are you serious? You want me to watch a movie about an alien?"
Suero swallowed nervously:
"Uh… well, I guess I'll just go alone then."
He stood up and left the restaurant, leaving Baysal alone with her thoughts. She gazed out the window for a moment before raising her hand to call the waiter:
"I'd like a drink, please."
The waiter nodded with a polite smile:
"Of course, miss."
Her eyes wandered to the busy streets outside, watching the passing cars and pedestrians. But her mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of thoughts. The vibrant world around her felt distant, unable to pull her away from the lingering sense of boredom that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
---
In the City of Ronda
Night had fallen, and the sky was draped in a deep blue dome, scattered with stars that shimmered like pearls. The full moon cast a golden glow, gently spilling over the rooftops and the bustling streets of Ronda. The city was alive, a place that seemed to never sleep.
Music blared from speakers at every corner, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowds. Groups of people, dressed in eccentric outfits, roamed the alleys, singing and dancing as if the night would never end. Others stood at the sidelines, content to watch and soak in the vibrant spectacle. The warm yellow glow of streetlights and homes bathed the scene, granting the atmosphere an almost surreal enchantment.
At the edge of the crowd, a drunken man staggered forward with unsteady steps, his laughter loud and chaotic. His friends followed close behind, no better off than he was. He muttered slurred words, a mix of intoxication and bravado:
"Come on, guys, let's leave this noise behind."
He stumbled away from the lively district, laughing as if he owned the entire night. But suddenly, he stopped. His foot had struck something unseen, sending him reeling backward. He froze for a moment, regaining his balance, then squinted ahead. There was nothing there.
His friends burst into laughter. One of them clutched his stomach, struggling to speak between fits of mirth:
"Hey, did you drink too much?"
But the man didn't laugh with them. His expression shifted to unease as he reached forward, feeling the empty air. Suddenly, his hand halted. His fingertips had brushed against something invisible—a barrier.
His eyes widened, and he shouted in a shaky voice, cutting through the laughter:
"I'm not joking! There's something here!"
For a moment, silence replaced the merriment, a strange wave of tension settling over them. One of his friends took hesitant steps forward, his voice dripping with skepticism:
"Maybe you just need some sleep."
Yet the man's gaze remained fixed on the void ahead. His friend, still amused, reached out and placed his palm against the air—only to freeze in place as his hand met the same unseen force. His fingers pressed against the invisible barrier, his body stiffening. In a trembling whisper, he muttered:
"This... this can't be real..."
---
In the Heart of Ronda
As the celebration reached its peak and the sounds merged into a continuous rhythm, everything suddenly stopped. The music was cut off abruptly, leaving behind murmurs of confusion and shock. The vibrant lights that had painted the streets and sky vanished in an instant, plunging the district into complete darkness.
A trembling voice of a young woman broke the silence:
"What's happening?"
A second voice followed, this time belonging to a man, more frustrated than frightened:
"Why did the power go out?"
The crowd froze in place, as if waiting for an explanation for the sudden chaos. Moments later, the lights flickered back to life, illuminating the area once more, as though the night itself had been toying with their nerves.
Waves of relieved sighs swept through the crowd, soon replaced by impatient demands:
"Turn the music back on! Come on!"
All eyes turned to the man in charge of the sound system, but he didn't move. He stood frozen behind his table, his face pale, his hands trembling as if he had witnessed something beyond comprehension.
One of the attendees approached him, concern clear in his voice:
"Hey, are you okay?"
The man didn't respond. Instead, with a shaky hand, he pointed toward a dark alley beside them.
Something was lurking in the shadows… something that didn't belong to this lively night.
On the ground, the DJ who had been energizing the crowd moments ago lay motionless, like a discarded puppet. A pool of blood had formed around his lifeless body, a grotesque contrast to the joyous atmosphere that had prevailed just minutes earlier.
A dreadful silence enveloped the crowd, their terrified eyes locked onto the fallen figure.
Then, footsteps echoed from the stage. A man stepped forward, exuding a sinister aura, raising his hands in a mocking salute to the stunned audience. His eerie presence seized everyone's attention, and the manic gleam in his eyes sent shivers down their spines.
It was Solio, and a strange pendant dangled from his neck, pulsating with an ominous glow.
"Greetings, pathetic humans!" he bellowed, his voice roaring through the square, accompanied by a twisted grin.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some stood frozen in terror, while others took hesitant steps backward. Solio remained unfazed, slowly extending his hand toward them. The very air seemed to grow heavier as if it, too, was holding its breath.
Out of nowhere, a vortex of deep purple energy erupted. The ground trembled violently as waves of horror spread through the gathering, and the swirling abyss began devouring them, one by one.
Screams filled the air as people scrambled in all directions, desperately trying to escape the inescapable fate that awaited them.
"And now, let the real show begin!" Solio declared, his crazed laughter slicing through the chaos.
On the stage, Spailo joined him, his smirk mirroring Solio's amusement. Behind them stood Campeis, his expression as cold and indifferent as ever. Finally, Darwin and Pico emerged, their faces devoid of any emotion, as if the unfolding massacre meant nothing to them.
Spailo turned to Solio and asked, his voice calm yet dripping with mockery:
"Did you activate the barrier?"
Solio responded with a hysterical laugh:
"As if I'd forget something so crucial!"
Spailo merely shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Good. Then let's move on to the next phase of the plan."
The four descended from the stage, the vortex continuing to consume the panicked crowd without mercy. The screams echoed through the district, and beneath their feet, the city had transformed into a sea of terror.
—
Western Side of Ronda
Master Betma, an A-rank sorcerer, stood tensely, his eyes fixed on the chaos engulfing Ronda. The scene before him was nothing short of a nightmare.
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered, his voice laced with unease.
Behind him stood his small team: Hambo, an A-rank student, and Alia, a fellow A-rank.
Lost in deep thought, Hambo suddenly spoke:
"Have you noticed something strange?"
Alia looked at him, confused:
"What do you mean?"
Hambo replied:
"The barrier… It allows sorcerers to enter, but it doesn't let them leave. As for regular humans, they can neither enter nor escape."
Alia turned to her teacher, Betma, who was still staring into the distance:
"That's true, Master. But… what should we do now?"
Betma remained silent for a moment before answering in a calm yet heavy voice:
"The Rizsius sorcerers… They are here. At Metro Station B4."
He furrowed his brows, adding to himself in a voice too low for anyone to hear:
"What are they planning?"
Hambo broke the silence with a sudden question:
"Where is Sbyam Brius?"
All eyes turned toward Ronda, where music, dancing, and laughter filled the city's heart, as if the chaos at its edges meant nothing at all.
---
Eastern Side of Ronda
Moryo, an A-rank team commander, sat on the pavement, leaning forward slightly, his fingers intertwined before him. His gaze was fixed on the ground as if it concealed secrets beyond his reach. In a low, troubled voice, he murmured:
"What a mess."
Around him, his team members stood in silence. Baysal, her eyes burning with anger, broke it first:
"Why did they choose this area? Those bastards! This is my favorite part of the city in Kaisima!"
Veb, as cold as ever, didn't even bother looking at her as he replied:
"Perhaps because it's densely populated, you idiot."
Baysal's face twisted in rage as she spun toward him, growling
"What did you just say?"
But Veb remained indifferent, his gaze locked on Moryo, who stayed silent, seemingly lost in his own world.
Kamyo, the most patient among them, turned to Moryo and asked with a mix of curiosity and frustration:
"Why are we just sitting here, waiting?"
A heavy silence followed. All eyes were now on Moryo, yet he did not lift his gaze from the ground.
Baysal forced herself to calm down, speaking in a more serious tone:
"Commender! Why don't we enter Metro Station B4?"
Finally, Moryo raised his head slightly, his voice cold and emotionless:
"Everyone has been deployed to the outskirts. We are here to secure this area in case any Rizsius sorcerers attempt to escape. Entering the station is Master Sbyam's responsibility. This is to ensure everyone's safety."
Kamyo sat beside Moryo on the pavement and said with a sarcastic chuckle:
"As if any of them could escape from the strongest sorcerer."
Baysal, however, kept her eyes locked on the scene before her, where music filled the air, people sang and danced, oblivious to the catastrophe brewing silently in the shadows.
---
Northern Ronda, Near the Barrier
A man slammed his fists against the invisible barrier, his voice rising with each hit:
"Hey! Let us out! Bring us Sbyam Brius, now!"
Nearby, a woman clutched her young child tightly. With a tense voice, she asked:
"Who are you talking about? Who is Sbyam Brius?"
The man, still pounding the barrier, responded:
"I don't know! But they say he's the only one who can get us out of here!"
The woman furrowed her brows in frustration:
"That cursed sorcerer! We're trapped here because of their chaos!"
The child, no older than six, listened with wide eyes. His face suddenly lit up as he exclaimed:
"Mom! I love sorcerers! I want to be like them!"
The mother froze, her heart pounding. She quickly covered his mouth with a trembling hand, whispering in fear:
"Don't say that! You don't want to be like them! They were once demons who destroyed our nation, Kaisima!"
The boy gently pushed her hand away, insisting:
"But they fight monsters! They're protecting us now, aren't they?"
The mother found no answer. She placed a weary hand over her face, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.
Suddenly, the man stopped hitting the barrier. His eyes widened, and his voice dropped to a shaky whisper:
"What…?"
Before them, a hand emerged from nothingness, tearing through the barrier as if it were merely a thin veil. It was human—yet it felt as though it was ripping through the very fabric of reality.
The man instinctively stepped back, eyes filled with disbelief, while the woman gasped in terror, pulling her child close to her chest.
Then, the owner of the hand stepped forward. A tall man, exuding an aura of undeniable dread. His eyes were as cold as ice, his white hair swaying in the freezing wind that accompanied his arrival.
In a quiet voice, as if merely asking for directions, he said:
"Are we in Ronda?"
The woman trembled, her fear evident in her voice:
"Who… Who are you?"
The man turned his gaze toward her. His sharp features carried an unsettling innocence, a stark contrast to the ominous darkness surrounding him.
"I am Sbyam Brius. I apologize for the delay."
Then, his eyes shifted toward the city, where celebrations continued, songs of joy filling the air, blissfully unaware of the looming danger.
The crowd near the barrier remained frozen in place, watching him with a mix of fear and suspicion.
End of Chapter.