Old Magic. New Monsters.

Old Magic. New Monsters. Familiar Prey.

✧ Beneath the Empire — The Labyrinthine Aqueducts

The Empire's ancient aqueducts stretched like cold veins beneath the capital, stone arches rising and falling into darkness. Water dripped steadily, echoing faintly.

The shadow warriors moved with practiced precision — Clematis, Wolf, Radaal, and Iris — silent hunters on a mission. Their goal was to find and eliminate the source of the recent mana disturbances.

Confidence held them like armor.

But the hunter was already waiting.

✧ The Whispering Sigil — Clematis Falls

Clematis caught a flicker in the air, a faint ripple of mana that pricked her senses.

Too late.

An intricate sigil ignited above her, woven from shadow and light, burning without flame.

"Verhallene Glut," Minus whispered.

The spell twisted nerves and senses, sending icy fire searing through Clematis's limbs.

Her legs gave out. Vision blurred. She crumpled silently to the stone floor.

Minus stepped forward, eyes cold.

"Too slow," she murmured.

✧ Wolf's Savage Assault — Flames of Torment

Wolf lunged fiercely, claws glowing with mana blades.

A snarl echoed.

Minus moved like liquid shadow, sidestepping with unnatural grace.

"Verhallene Glut."

A twin sigil burned on Wolf's shoulder — slow, insidious flames that ate muscle and bone from within.

Wolf howled, staggering, flames crawling beneath his skin.

He collapsed heavily, writhing in torment.

✧ Null Fields and Reversals — Radaal and Routine

Radaal and Routine worked in tandem, weaving layered null magic — a shimmering dome designed to swallow Minus's spells.

Routine raised her staff, forming a translucent bubble to shield the injured.

Minus smiled coldly, stepping into their null zone.

With a precise flick of her staff—

"Umlenken."

Their null fields tore inward, violently colliding.

Routine slammed into stone; Radaal hissed, staggering.

✧ Iris's Barrier Shattered — The Cracks Begin

Iris conjured a barrier, fragile but potent, shimmering with ancient runes.

Minus's eyes narrowed; lips curled.

Her staff moved fluidly.

"Splitterfall."

Fracturing shards tore through the barrier like shards of glass.

The aqueduct trembled violently.

Dust and stones rained down as the ceiling groaned.

✧ The Gathering Storm — Ars Finita

Minus drew a deep breath, fingers tracing an impossibly complex sigil pulsing with chaotic, warped mana.

"Ars Finita."

Reality warped around her.

A pulse radiated outward, invisible yet all-consuming.

Lore screamed as memories shattered violently inside him — childhood pain, battlefield losses, regrets — crashing like waves.

He dropped, clutching his head.

Iris gasped, caught in a mental storm.

Routine shuddered uncontrollably.

The spell tore through the group, incapacitating all but one.

The aqueduct's ancient arches creaked ominously, nearly collapsing under the strain.

✧ The Edge of Control — Danger Within

Ars Finita surged dangerously inside Minus.

A backlash threatened to rip her apart.

Her vision blurred. Limbs trembled.

But with iron will, she clenched the storm, molding it perfectly.

A dark laugh slipped out.

"When Serie tried this… she ended up a complete mess."

"Only I could wield it without breaking."

✧ Lowe's Desperate Charge — The Scar Reopened

Lowe steadied himself, face pale but fierce.

His blade flashed as he lunged.

"No more hiding."

Minus met him with lethal grace.

Her staff swept through the air, channeling Ars Finita's lingering edge.

The spell's razor cut Lowe's right eye — reopening the scar with fresh, burning agony.

He roared, staggering but unbroken.

✧ The Final Exchange — Words and Wounds

Minus's voice dropped low, cold.

"Serie warned me once — vaguely, fearing I'd lose control."

Her eyes gleamed with deadly certainty.

"But she trusted me."

Lowe spat blood, panting.

"You're truly a witch."

Minus smiled, eyes icy.

"And this is only the beginning."

✧ Aftermath — Broken Shadows

The shadow warriors lay broken, battered, but alive.

Minus vanished into the shadows, leaving silence in her wake.

✧ Watching from Afar — Serie's Quiet Pride

Serie's reflection shimmered in a crystal orb.

Her lips curled softly.

"Stronger than I dared imagine."

✧ Next Time — When Old Wounds Speak