Shadows of the Mansion
Judge's gaze moved to the surrounding area. The mansion, situated on the opposite side of the river from Revona Village, was deeply entrenched within the forest. It must have once been connected to the main roads, but decades of neglect had left it swallowed by nature. Now, under the shroud of night, the forest seemed to grow even darker and more menacing. The trees' gnarled branches clawed at the cracked walls, almost as if nature itself sought to reclaim the remnants of this cursed place.
Despite the chaos, their mission remained unfinished. They had yet to uncover the true culprit behind the horrors of the Revona noble family and the tormented villagers. Judge's battle-hardened mind processed the situation as Orion leaned against a damaged pillar, exhaustion etched across his face. A fifth-tier mage with immense potential, Orion had displayed remarkable power in battle. But Judge knew that power without experience could only take one so far.
The creatures they had fought—their twisted forms, their unnatural abilities—haunted Judge's thoughts. Were they demons? Or something else entirely? Judge questioned everything: who had lured them here, and what was their objective? What did these creatures represent? His years of experience fighting underworld mobs and securing ancient artifacts made him suspicious of elaborate traps. The memory of his last mission—a bloody battle for an ancient artifact coveted by shadowy forces—flashed through his mind. Back then, his team had been ambushed in a confined space much like this mansion. The stakes felt eerily similar.
Judge's chain, bloodied from the recent skirmish, coiled loosely around his arm. He flexed his fingers, assessing the minor injuries he'd sustained. His mask had cracks, his cloak was singed in several places, and blood dripped from his knuckles. Yet his presence was as commanding as ever.
"This isn't over," he muttered under his breath.
Orion's labored breathing brought Judge back to the present. The young mage's exhaustion was evident, but his adaptability in battle had impressed Judge. Despite his inexperience, Orion had held his ground.
Orion's thoughts were turbulent. The creatures they'd fought were like nightmares brought to life. Was this his end? Would reinforcements even arrive in time? He glanced at Judge. The man looked like he'd been through hell but showed no signs of faltering. Blood trickled down his hand, his mask fractured, and his cloak tattered—yet Judge stood tall, his eyes scanning the shadows. Orion couldn't help but think, If I were on the other side, this man would terrify me.
Judge, aware of Orion's struggle, felt a twinge of guilt. The recruit was powerful, yes, but Judge had dragged him into this. He'd seen countless battles, faced countless monsters, but this? This felt different. Whoever had orchestrated this had studied their prey meticulously. Judge felt they were being toyed with, like pieces on a chessboard.
He spoke, his voice gruff but calm. "Orion, can you still fight?"
Orion straightened, summoning a faint orb of light that hovered above his hand. "Yes, sir." His voice wavered slightly, but there was determination in his eyes.
Judge gave a curt nod. He admired the boy's resolve. But admiration wouldn't keep them alive. He knew they had to end this quickly.
The air around them grew heavier, oppressive, as though the mansion itself was alive and watching. Judge's instincts screamed that they were not alone. He scanned the debris-strewn room, his sharp eyes catching subtle movements in the shadows. A sound—barely a whisper—echoed from the far side of the room. Judge's chain tightened in his grip as he stepped forward.
"Orion," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Stay close. Whoever's behind this isn't done with us."
Orion nodded, the glow illuminating the destroyed room and casting eerie shadows on the cracked walls. Burnt portraits of the Revona family hung crookedly, their faces obscured by soot and age. One in particular caught Orion's eye—a man who bore a striking resemblance to the creature they had fought earlier. The pieces were starting to come together, but the picture was far from complete.
Judge suddenly stepped into the center of the room, his voice laced with venom and rage as he bellowed into the suffocating silence. "Are you satisfied with your twisted work? Hiding in the shadows like a coward, family killer! Is this your grand masterpiece—tearing apart your own bloodline, and for what? You think using innocent villagers for your grotesque games makes you powerful? Come out and face us like a true adversary! Or are you too weak to even show your face, you pathetic wretch?"
The mansion fell silent, the echo of Judge's words fading into the darkness. Orion tensed, his magical aura flaring faintly as he prepared for anything. Judge's chain slowly uncoiled from his arm, the faint metallic sound reverberating in the stillness. The air seemed to grow thicker, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on them like a weight.
Somewhere in the shadows, a faint, mocking laugh began to echo. It was low and guttural, sending a shiver down Orion's spine. Judge's grip on his chain tightened. Whoever—or whatever—had orchestrated this nightmare, they were about to reveal themselves.
The laugh grew louder, more menacing, reverberating through the ruined mansion. A shape began to form in the darkness, its outline barely discernible against the broken walls. Glowing eyes pierced the gloom, staring directly at Judge and Orion.
Judge's voice was a growl. "Show yourself."
The figure stepped forward, its movements unnaturally fluid, like a shadow given life. It stopped just beyond the reach of Judge's chain, its glowing eyes fixed on them. The room seemed to darken further, the oppressive weight of its presence suffocating.
Orion's hand tightened as he whispered to Judge, "This isn't over."