Shenaf

Emerging from the shadows, Baldwin stopped in the middle of the forest. His crimson eyes flickered as he summoned two shadow blades, their edges gleaming with eerie darkness. Without hesitation, he slashed at his own arm, leg, and forehead, allowing blood to trickle down his skin. The wounds weren't deep enough to cause real harm, but they were convincing enough.

Staggering forward, he leaned against a tree, his movements slow and deliberate. His breathing grew heavy, his steps uneven, as if he were barely holding on. Finally, with a dramatic exhale, he collapsed to the ground, motionless.

It was all an act.

High above the treetops, Velisara moved swiftly, leaping from branch to branch, her sharp eyes scanning the forest below. She had been searching for Baldwin for hours, frustration building with every empty clearing she passed.

"Damn it! Where did that boy go? He was my responsibility. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't even be this worried."

Gritting her teeth, she pushed forward at full speed. Then, her heart nearly stopped.

There—on the forest floor—was Baldwin.

Bloodied. Motionless.

Without a second thought, she was at his side, cradling him in her lap. Her hands trembled slightly as she examined his injuries. Deep cuts, blood soaking his clothes—he looked like he had been through hell.

Without hesitation, she began to heal him, golden energy pulsing from her fingertips as she worked to mend his wounds.

Baldwin, still playing his part, remained perfectly still.

Once she was sure his injuries were gone, Velisara hoisted him up effortlessly, slinging him over her shoulder like a sack of grain.

"You're heavier than you look, brat," she muttered, before vanishing in a blur of speed.

In the next instant, she was standing in front of the hut.

Inside, Olivia turned at the sound of the door swinging open. Her eyes widened when she saw Baldwin's limp body.

"What happened?!" she gasped, rushing forward.

Velisara sighed, shifting Baldwin's weight before setting him down. "I found him like this, unconscious in the forest. Looks like he fought something... or someone."

Olivia's gaze darted to Baldwin's torn clothes, still stained with blood.

"It must be hard for you. After all, it's evening—you probably just wanted to enjoy a good meal. But instead, you faced danger," Olivia said, gently petting Baldwin's forehead. "Thank you for staying alive."

Far beyond the reach of mortals, in a place feared by demons, elves, and vampires alike—a place they called Hell—there existed a realm known to celestial beings as Shenaf.

It was a land of death.

Some called it a prison.

Yet, despite its desolation, Shenaf was vast, with markets and settlements. But unlike the mortal world, this place was devoid of warmth—loveless, lifeless.

At its heart stood an enormous castle, so colossal that many inhabitants believed Shenaf itself was merely an extension of its walls.

Inside this castle, a woman strode forward without hesitation. She wore flowing robes of black and white, her hair coiling like serpents. Her skin was dark as the abyss, her face sharp and beautiful—one eye a pure, unnatural white, the other a deep black. A coiled whip hung at her side, its presence almost alive.

Without knocking, she pushed open the heavy doors and entered.

"Where is Galinthias?" she demanded.

At the far end of the room, a man with a thick black beard and strange, inky-black eyes raised a brow at her intrusion.

"Oh? What's this? How rude of you, Alecto. Barging in uninvited—can't you see I'm in the middle of a meeting?" Rhadamanthus said, his tone laced with amusement.

Alecto scoffed. "Yes, Rhadamanthus, I can see that. But you know Lord Hades' orders take priority over your little conversations."

At the mention of Hades, Rhadamanthus' expression shifted. "Lord Hades?"

"That's right. He wants to see you. And as for your little guest—Galinthias—Lady Hecate has summoned him. So, are you two going to keep talking, or will you actually heed the call of your gods?"

A chuckle came from the other end of the room as Galinthias rose from his seat, his silver eyes glinting. "Four hundred years have passed, and you're still as relentless as ever, Alecto."

Alecto's grip tightened around her whip. "Say that again—"

Galinthias smirked, already walking toward the door. "What? Are you going to try and kill an immortal? If you did, you'd be the first to fail."

A flicker of red energy crackled around Alecto, her temper snapping. The air around her ignited with violent, electric heat, and her whip coiled, growing longer, pulsing with raw power.

BOOM!

An explosion ripped through the chamber.

The force was enough to shake the castle, but instead of reducing the room to rubble, the impact merely left deep cracks along the stone walls.

A shimmering purple barrier now stood between Galinthias and Alecto.

Rhadamanthus sighed. "You should know by now, Alecto, this castle isn't made from ordinary stone. This metal keeps our energy in check, limiting the damage of our attacks. But you still managed to crack the walls. If I hadn't stepped in, you really might've tried to kill him."

Galinthias merely chuckled, his smug expression unfazed. "Shall we go? We wouldn't want to keep Lady Hecate waiting."

With that, he strode out of the room, as if he had already won some unseen battle.

Alecto clenched her fists, seething.

Rhadamanthus stepped past her, voice low. "Remember, Alecto. He is a devoted follower of another god. You cannot simply attack him without consequences."

Then, without another word, he too left the room.

After exiting the room, Galinthias walked toward the grand chamber. The towering doors before him were adorned with intricate designs, exuding an air of authority and power. He halted at the entrance, bowed deeply, and knocked at the lower side of the door—a sign of respect.

"Lady Hecate and Lord Hades, you summoned me—" Before he could finish his sentence, a warm, soft voice, gentle yet commanding, called from within.

"Enter, Galinthias."

Stepping inside, he immediately bowed once more.

"Rise, Galinthias," a woman said with a serene smile.

She possessed long, flowing black hair, her youthful face carrying the warmth of a nurturing mother. A long robe draped over her form, dark as the night sky, yet adorned with shimmering moons and stars that seemed almost alive. In her hand, she held a torch that emitted an ethereal glow. She was Hecate, the revered Goddess of Magic.

Beside her, a towering figure observed him with piercing eyes. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with long, dark hair and a thick, flowing beard. His presence was as heavy as the abyss itself. A black robe cascaded over his form, a crown resting atop his head. In his grip, he held a scepter, its power undeniable.

The King of the Underworld. The ruler of Shenaf. The god of the dead.

Hades.

His deep, commanding voice filled the chamber.

"Justice is equal for all, whether god or mortal. As long as one possesses the wisdom to understand it." He leaned forward slightly. "Now, Galinthias, servant of Hecate—tell me about the boy you encountered. The one who wields the power of shadows."