Disappearing from Count Vareon’s sight had been effortless.
A momentary distraction, a calculated move. A billow of dense, acrid smoke spiraled from the explosion I triggered in one of the containment chambers, and that was all I needed. The man’s gaze, sharp and trained through countless battles, faltered. Even a Stage 4 couldn’t see through thick mana-dense smoke so easily.
I faded into the shadows of the crumbling lab, my footsteps light, breath steady.
But I didn’t let my guard down. Count Vareon wasn’t the type to give up. He would pursue, if only to understand how someone slipped past him. But I’d earned myself a few precious minutes.
Time I didn’t plan to waste.
The air was damp, heavy with the stench of burnt chemicals and something darker—blood. Not the kind spilled in a duel or during an ambush, but something more ancient, more sinister. I followed the scent, weaving through the broken remains of the underground lab.
Glass crunched underfoot. Shattered containment tubes lined the walls, some with residual mana stains that glowed faintly blue or green, others charred completely black as if their contents had incinerated from within.
This place—it wasn’t just a lab.
It was a graveyard.
But the more I moved, the more a question gnawed at me: who helped Vareon build this? It wasn’t just him. I could feel it. Mana lingers, like fingerprints. And the ones I sensed here weren’t all his.
Some were older. Colder.
And far more terrifying.
A chill skittered down my spine.
My pace slowed as I turned a corner. The scent of blood grew stronger, more pungent. Fresh.
I lowered my stance, instinctively activating my aura-enhanced senses. The world around me dulled to silence, my hearing narrowing in on the soft drip of liquid—a slow, rhythmic tap echoing against stone.
The corridor ahead was narrow, walls rough and uneven, bearing scorch marks and deep gashes as if something monstrous had clawed its way through. The ceiling dipped low, forcing me to duck. Every few meters, I passed what looked like more destroyed cells, some containing bones, others with claw marks etched in metal.
Then the passage stopped. Abruptly.
A dead end?
No. The smell of blood was strongest here.
I scanned the walls with sharp eyes, drawing in mana and letting it flow to my fingertips. I pressed my palm against the cold stone, feeling for irregularities.
There.
A thin draft.
Kneeling, I traced the edges of a single slab near the floor. Mana etched faint symbols along its border, nearly invisible. A concealment formation, outdated but precise.
I channeled mana into it, disrupting its pattern.
With a dull rumble, the slab shifted, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.
Cold air rushed up to meet me, laced with the metallic tang of blood and something else. Something foul.
I descended without hesitation.
The stairs groaned under my weight. Moss coated the edges, and cobwebs hung like curtains between the crumbling stone walls. Each step deepened the silence around me, drowning out even the sounds of my own breathing.
At the bottom, the narrow stairway opened into a vast chamber—and my blood ran cold.
A creature stood in the center.
No, not stood.
Hung.
Suspended by thick iron chains, its body bound at the wrists and ankles. A dragon. Patches of scaled flesh shimmered faintly under dim crystal lamps embedded in the ceiling. Where eyes should have been, glowing red slits blinked slowly, tracking me.
It was alive.
And conscious.
Its breathing echoed, a low rasp like wind over broken glass.
Behind it, ritualistic circles adorned the stone floor—ancient, forbidden magic. I recognized some of the runes. Void-binding. Temporal displacement. And soul anchoring.
Whoever created this wasn’t just experimenting with magic.
They were playing with laws that should never be broken.
I stepped closer.
The creature growled, low and guttural, but made no move. It was bound too tightly.
"You sense it too, don’t you?" I whispered.
Its eyes flickered. Not mindless.
Intelligent.
This was a sentient being. And not native to this continent.
I circled around, keeping my distance. From the side, I could see runes carved into its flesh—not drawn, not painted. Carved. Each symbol pulsed faintly with mana, suppressing its abilities. A layered suppression seal, at least sixfold.
Then, something shifted behind me.
I spun, blade drawn in an instant.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Clad in dark robes, a mask covering their face. The robes bore no insignia, but their mana—it was overwhelming. Dense. Refined.
Stage 5?
No… Something was off.
Their presence felt distorted, like looking at a reflection in broken glass.
"You came sooner than expected," the figure said.
Their voice was distorted through the mask. Neither male nor female. Neither old nor young.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
They didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, they stepped closer to the creature, almost reverently. "Do you understand what you’ve found here?"
I said nothing.
They turned to me. "This is beyond your comprehension. Beyond your mission. Turn back. Forget you saw this."
I tightened my grip on the blade.
"You're involved in this."
"We are all involved. Whether we want to be or not."
The chamber trembled slightly. Mana stirred in the air.
"What is this creature?"
"A key," they answered. "To a future no one is ready for."
My instincts screamed at me to fight, to strike, to eliminate the threat. But my mind urged caution.
One wrong move, and this place might collapse—or worse, the creature might awaken.
"You think this will end with Vareon's death?" the figure asked, voice low.
"No," I replied. "But it’s a start."
They tilted their head. "Then we are enemies."
Mana flared.
In a blink, they were gone. A high-level teleportation spell, cast silently.
I cursed under my breath. Whoever they were, they weren’t working alone. And this lab—this creature—was only the beginning.
I turned back to the bound abomination.
Its eyes were still on me. Watching. Waiting.
"I don’t know what you are," I said, "but if your existence threatens the balance of the continent...."
But I didn’t strike.
Not yet.
I needed answers. Proof. And above all, a plan.
Because if this thing got out...
If this information got out...
It wouldn’t just be a kingdom war.
It would be a continental war.
And I wasn’t sure if anyone was ready for that.
Not even me.
To be continued...
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