The underground cavern felt as though it might collapse at any moment. Loose stone hung precariously from the ceiling, ancient and weathered. Even the faintest disturbance seemed likely to bring the entire structure down.

  Commander Konrad stood at the entrance, his sharp features etched with impatience. "Got anything yet, Professor?"

  Professor, a tall man in a pristine white coat and clear glasses, carefully examined the monolith before him. "Not yet, brother. The cave looks like it will collapse if I sneeze. Give us a bit more patience. If there's anything to find, we will find it."

  "Patient?" Konrad's voice rose, his eyes flashing red with barely contained rage. "You're asking me to be patient? I've waited all this time. I've waited for my goal to reach fruition, and now you tell me to be patient? How long do you expect me to wait?"

  The professor straightened, his calm demeanor unshaken by Konrad's outburst. "Brother, I know you better than anyone. And you know me—I want to reach Aethelgard more than you do. Believe me when I say that we will reach it." He paused, his voice softening. "You're agitated because some bastard managed to send his men to that world before we could. I understand your anger. But fury won't move us any closer to our goal. Please, brother—give us some time. All right?"

  Konrad's jaw clenched. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "...Yeah. Sorry, Vischer. I'm just restless. You're right. Continue. I won't interrupt again."

  "Thank you, brother."

  Professor Vischer returned to his work, ordering his team of researchers with brisk efficiency. They moved through the cavern like a well-oiled machine, noting the ancient writings on the monolith, cataloging the strange drawings etched into stone, collecting samples of soil and water with meticulous care.

  Konrad stood alone, watching the proceedings with his mind elsewhere. His eyes were distant, already seeing futures yet to unfold. He thought of Aethelgard. He thought of his goal.

  The soft crunch of footsteps echoed through the cavern.

  Sergeant Wolf approached, his face drawn tight with anxiety. His lips were pale, his composure visibly shattered. He came to stand beside Konrad, clearly wrestling with something.

  "Spit it out," Konrad ordered without looking at him.

  Wolf flinched as though struck. "Y-yes, Commander. I apologize for questioning you, but I... I'm just trying to understand. What's really going on here?" His voice trembled. "This Aethelgard you speak of—if you would, sir, could you explain it to me? I'm trying to grasp it, but it just went over my head—"

  "I don't have the patience to indulge your questions," Konrad cut him off coldly. "Even if I explained, your mind wouldn't catch it. All you need to know is this: there are scattered worlds beyond our own. We are trying to travel to the very first one ever created—the primal world. Believe it or not and Your only job is to shut up and listen without asking questions. Understand?"

  "Y-yes, sir!" Wolf snapped a sharp salute and excused himself hastily.

  Konrad reached into his inner coat and withdrew a small object. Ebonwing. The ancient artifact caught the light, glittering across its surface despite the cave's stale, cold air. The frost on its surface was melted.

  He held it before him, his expression hardening into something fierce and terrible.

  Vincent Karl. It looks like you've finally moved after all this time. Just wait. I'm coming for both you and the world. I swear it.

  "Commander! Professor! Commander!"

  A voice screamed from deeper within the cavern, raw with exhaustion and panic. Both Konrad and Vischer turned sharply.

  Vischer's assistant—designation 21—came running toward them, breathless and trembling.

  "What is it?" Konrad demanded.

  "Take a deep breath and tell us what's happened," Vischer added, his tone steady despite the obvious dread in the assistant's eyes.

  "S-sorry, sir." The assistant gasped for air, steadying himself. "It's... it's Ebisawa Kenzo. The Elder."

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  "What about him?" Konrad asked.

  "The body... the body vanished, sir. As we were transporting it to the lab for examination, it just... disappeared."

  Konrad and Vischer exchanged a glance. "Disappeared?" Konrad said slowly. "That's nonsense. Bodies don't simply vanish. Did the resistance attack your convoy? Did they intercept the body?"

  "No, sir. I'm certain of it. There was no attack—no interference of any kind." The assistant swallowed hard. "But the guard who was stationed with the corpse... he's dead, sir. And before he died, he said something... something unbelievable."

  "And that would be?" Vischer prompted.

  "He said..." The assistant's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "He said the one who killed him was the Elder. It was the Elder."

  "WHAT?!" Both Konrad and Vischer's voices rang out simultaneously, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief.

  Konrad was silent for a long moment. Then a slow, creepy smile spread across his face. "I see. Vischer, continue your work here. I'll deal with the missing body myself."

  He whispered to himself, almost to himself: "Interesting. This is an interesting start indeed."

  The tower rose impossibly high, surrounded by shallow water that rippled with each passing breeze. No light penetrated its interior save for the luminescence of a single tree at its center—an ancient, towering thing whose leaves glowed with an ethereal violet-purple radiance that illuminated the entire chamber.

  A presence approached the tree, his footsteps splashing softly through the shallow water. When he reached the base, he bowed deeply.

  "Bra-Watcher, I have returned."

  "I can see that," came a voice from the highest branches, cold and measured. "But before you report, I must ask—what was that you were about to call me? Can you kindly repeat your words, Belmat?"

  Belmat's expression shifted, confusion crossing his features. "W-what do you mean, Watcher? I called you exactly as I always do."

  A long pause followed.

  "...Mm. I suppose I must be hearing things," the Watcher finally replied.

  "Probably," Belmat said with a dry laugh. "After all, you've been cooped up in this tower with nothing but your balls for company, of course I'm talking about the crystal spheres. How long has it been now? You've probably started seeing things, hearing things..." He let the laugh trail off.

  The massive tree suddenly shook, vibrating so violently that the shallow pond trembled beneath Belmat's feet. He nearly lost his balance.

  "Sorry, sorry," Belmat called up, steadying himself. "My apologies, I was just—I was just trying to lighten your mood before I tell you the bad news."

  The tremor lasted another thirty seconds before slowly subsiding. Belmat straightened himself and spoke quietly, "Thank you."

  From the branches a figure looked down—a girl of short stature, wearing a plain white one-piece garment. Her long hair covered most of her face, obscuring her features in shadow. She was the Watcher. As she moved, her hair shifted slightly, revealing an eye of deep purple.

  "Bad news, then," she said flatly. "Let me guess—you failed to find the one who killed Morvane. Is that what you're telling me?"

  "Well... yes and no. Mostly no," Belmat replied carefully. "I did find the one who dealt the final blow to the beast. Her name is Ella—she was formerly one of the Dragonbloods, a group from this city."

  "Dragonbloods?"

  "Not relevant to the current matter. They're a relatively powerful adventurer group—A-rank at least—but that's not the point. The point is that Ella was the one who killed the beast. But I don't think she's the one bearing the ancient curse."

  The Watcher tilted her head slightly. "Are you certain?"

  "You know me. I'm rarely wrong."

  "Yes, but you frequently miss the bigger picture," the Watcher said coldly. "This Ella may have struck the final blow, but she didn't kill Morvane. The curse bearer did. And you failed—again—to find him, Belmat. When did you become so pathetic?"

  Belmat's eyes flashed with rage. "What was that brat, you little—" He caught himself, his voice dropping. "I... uh..."

  In an instant, the shallow water around him began to move. It rose up like a living thing, wrapping around his body in the shape of liquid armor. But this was no protection—it was suffocation.

  Belmat thrashed desperately. "Wait, wait! I spoke without thinking! Please, I—"

  The water consumed his protests, covering his mouth, his nose, sealing him in a cocoon of drowning liquid. His struggling became more frantic, but the water held firm. Even the flowers floating on the water's surface remained perfectly still.

  Seconds stretched into a minute. Two minutes. Three.

  The Watcher watched with cold, unblinking purple eyes, her fist clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she released her grip.

  The water fell away instantly, spreading across the ground as though nothing had happened. Belmat collapsed to his knees, gasping uncontrollably, his whole body wracked with violent coughs. His hat had fallen from his head.

  After several long seconds, he straighten to his feet. He swept his hair back with his hand and placed his hat back on his head calmly. As he did, the water that had soaked his clothes simply... evaporated into smoke, leaving him bone-dry as though he had never touched water at all.

  He stood straight, his expression blank once more, like nothing had happened, his dark red eyes fixed on the luminous tree above.

  "Farewell then, Watcher," he said quietly.

  "Begone, trash," the Watcher replied.

  Belmat turned and walked toward the steel door, each footstep echoing heavily through the chamber. Behind it, he stepped into a dark hallway. Standing motionless before the door was a guard, clad entirely in silver armor—save for a single crack across the helmet's visor, just wide enough for vision.

  "Oi," Belmat called to the guard. "Did you by any chance feel any tremors? Any shaking, like the ground was about to give way? Or any sounds of water moving around?"

  The guard nodded slowly, a full ninety-degree motion.

  "I see. You felt it, then. So why didn't you burst inside to check on me? To see if I was in danger? To see if I needed help?" Belmat's face was clearly irritated.

  The guard simply stood motionless, silent.

  "You know I'm your boss, right?" Belmat pressed.

  The guard nodded with even more enthusiasm than before.

  "Good. I thought you might actually be working for her instead." Belmat's voice carried a bitter edge. He laughed dryly. "Continue with whatever you're doing."

  He walked away, each step heavy and deliberate. His voice dropped to a muttered curse: "Fucking bitch..."

  The rhythmic clacking of wheels on rails filled the compartment. Ella sat by the window, watching the landscape roll past—small mountains, forests, villages disappearing in the distance. A gentle smile played at her lips. "We will be reaching the city soon," she spoke.

  She glanced at her companions across from her. Both of them were sound asleep. Kuro had his head tilted back against the seat, while Fenric lay sprawled beside him, snoring loudly enough to rattle the window.

  Figures, so that's where the noise was coming from, Ella thought, sighing. She relaxed slightly. "Idiots."

  "You mean you."

  Ella's eyes snapped open. Her heart jumped. Kuro had spoken—but his eyes were still closed, his breathing still even.

  My god. Has it gotten to the point where I'm hearing him in my head? She felt a flush of panic. Wait... he promised he wouldn't call me an idiot anymore. He better not call me that in my city, Euneim. Not in front of my friends. Not in front of my people.

  A piercing, brassy shriek echoed through the train car. The steam whistle.

  The locomotive picked up speed, hurtling toward their destination.

  Ella sighed, turning her attention back to the window. Her mind drifted to what awaited them—the confrontation with the Dragonbloods that was surely coming.

  Soon, she thought. We'll reach Euneim soon.