Chapter 15: Darkness

MARIA VOLKSLOVA

"A-Agriveous?" The name escaped my lips before I could stop myself. I covered my mouth, my own shock catching me off guard.

The old man—no, the Diviner of Light—snickered as if my reaction amused him. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he rose from his seat.

"I'll show you the truth."

Even the way he stood sent a chill down my spine.

As he clenched his fists, specks of light formed around them, swirling and expanding until they shaped a long sword—radiant and blinding, as if carved from the essence of the sun itself.

I kept my eyes locked onto the blade, my voice unsteady. "Wh-What are you planning to do?"

Agriveous didn't even look at me. "An unknown presence lurks within my sight of mana. I must eliminate it."

Then, just before setting off, he added, "For now, I am an ally of Vestiron. So, I shall aid you, mortals, in this one-sided war."

He leapt from the wagon—but he did not fall. He soared, his body cutting through the air as though gravity meant nothing to him.

"One-sided war?" I echoed under my breath. What does he mean?

I knew the bandits weren't much of a threat. Audel alone is enough to take them down. But Agriveous wasn't talking about them. Something else was happening in the background.

Something far worse.

I turned toward the wagon's entrance. The world outside looked… wrong.

Still. Frozen.

No—not frozen. A transparent barrier hung over the area, trapping everything within it in a suspended state. And yet, as I flexed my fingers, I found I could move freely.

Why am I unaffected?

I didn't have time to question it further. Agriveous had already disappeared into the sky, leaving behind only a flicker of golden light in his wake.

AGRIVEOUS

The dense forest blurred beneath me as I flew, my destination already in sight.

Just as Vestiron predicted.

I descended smoothly, landing on the damp earth. My grip tightened around my sword as my eyes scanned the scene.

A massacre.

The bandit camp had been wiped out—ripped apart with brutal efficiency. Blood soaked the ground, bodies lay in grotesque positions, limbs severed. Whatever had done this wasn't human.

"The ones still raiding the route must be unaware," I murmured to myself.

Then, a laugh. Low, mocking.

I spun around, sword at the ready—but saw nothing.

"Show yourself," I commanded, my voice echoing through the clearing.

Silence.

Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged.

He walked with an unsettling ease, his every step deliberate, controlled. When he spoke, his voice dripped with amusement.

"Agriveous. You might've outplayed the General…" His lips curled into a smirk. "But you've played yourself right into my hands."

I remained motionless, assessing him. "I am a Diviner. You are a mere mortal. If I wished, I could fly away, leaving you in the dirt. You cannot chase me. You cannot defeat me."

He laughed again, this time deeper, darker.

"You don't have much karma left for that, Agriveous." His tone was almost… pitying. "Why don't you surrender? Accept the Lord's judgment while you still have the chance? This vessel you're clinging to—" his eyes flickered over my aging body "—won't get you anywhere. What can an old man possibly do against Eukaphrote's finest soldier?"

I did not respond. Words were a waste of time. And he wasn't half wrong. He indeed was one of the Aeons, or simply put, General Zenrith's strongest spy.

I lunged.

The sword of light flared in my grip, its energy surging through me as I slashed forward. My aged body was slow—but the magic more than compensated.

But my opponent was faster.

With inhuman agility, he leaped—twenty feet into the air, tucking his legs in midair as he twisted above me.

I wasted no time. Seizing the opening, I pointed my sword at him, preparing to release a concentrated burst of light—

Something flicked through the air.

A rusty nail.

It struck my shoulder.

Pain flared as I staggered. In the same instant, my opponent landed gracefully behind me, using nothing but a push of air to soften his descent.

I turned swiftly, lightning crackling from my fingers, but—he was gone.

A whisper slithered through my own shadow.

"Don't play games with me."

Then—pain.

Rusty nails, twenty of them, shot up from the ground, piercing my feet and pinning me in place.

I barely registered the pain before his voice came again—this time from behind me.

Low. Amused.

From my own shadow.

"Go back to sleep, old man."

A flash of movement—

Then, darkness.