[ The Price of Power ]

[ The Weight of a Choice ]

The violet sparks of Black Magic still flickered across Raine's fingers.

It felt cold. Heavy. Like something had latched onto his soul the moment he touched the forbidden tome.

[Soren, shaking his head]: "We play too much game that we have to live in it… what a life, eh?"

He let out a dry laugh, but no one else found it funny.

[Lyra, arms crossed]: "You're seriously joking about this right now?"

[Soren, smirking]: "What else can we do? Cry?"

[Raine, staring at his hand]: "No. We figure out what this power really is."

The magic pulsing inside him was unlike anything he'd used before. It wasn't fire, or ice, or lightning—it was something deeper, something unnatural. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he could feel it changing him.

[Lyra, hesitant]: "Raine… are you sure about this?"

[Raine, nodding]: "No. But I have to try."

And with that—he raised his hand, focusing on the magic within.

[ The First Spell ]

The spell name came to him instinctively. As if the knowledge had always been there, buried beneath layers of forgotten history.

A dark mist shot from his palm, snaking through the air like a living shadow before striking a nearby stone. The moment it made contact—the stone cracked, frozen in place by an unseen force.

Then—pain.

A sharp, piercing sensation stabbed into his chest. It was like something inside him was being drained.

[Lyra, alarmed]: "Raine! What happened?"

[Raine, gripping his chest]: "I don't know… It felt like… it took something from me."

[Soren, narrowing his eyes]: "You sure that thing's worth using?"

Raine didn't answer.

He wasn't sure.

But the power—it was strong.

And in a world where the 13 Kings ruled with overwhelming strength, he needed every advantage he could get.

Even if it came with a cost.

[ The Cursed Dungeon ]

The deeper they went into the dungeon, the clearer it became—this place was built for something unnatural.

Walls lined with forgotten scriptures. Symbols etched in blood. Skeletons of creatures that had no place in the world of Final Eclipse Online.

And then, they found them.

The cursed creatures.

They crawled from the shadows, their bodies twisted and rotting. Some were former players, their faces still frozen in a silent scream, corrupted beyond recognition.

[Lyra, horrified]: "Gods… these were people."

[Soren, gripping his sword]: "No saving them now."

They came fast. Too fast.

Raine barely had time to react before one lunged at him—a blur of claws and gnashing teeth.

The dark mist shot forward, wrapping around the creature like an iron chain.

It froze mid-air. Locked in place.

[Soren, impressed]: "Well, damn. That's useful."

But then—Raine felt it again.

The draining.

His vision blurred for a split second, his heartbeat skipping. It was as if something was feeding on him.

[Lyra, worried]: "Raine, you don't look so good."

[Raine, shaking it off]: "I'm fine. Let's keep moving."

[ Fear of Magic ]

By the time they reached the final chamber, the air was thick with unease.

The creatures they fought weren't normal enemies.

They didn't respawn.

And worse—their bodies decayed into dust instead of disappearing like a typical game mechanic.

The players who had followed Raine into the dungeon were starting to notice.

[Random Player, nervously]: "This isn't how the game worked before…"

[Another Player, glancing at Raine]: "And that magic he's using… it's not normal, either."

A few took a step back.

Fear creeping into their eyes.

And that's when Raine realized—it wasn't just the cursed creatures they feared.

It was him.

The Black Magic.

And he had no idea how to prove them wrong.

[ Elara, the Rogue Scholar ]

As they reached the heart of the dungeon, they found something unexpected.

A library.

Ancient books, scrolls, and artifacts long forgotten. And among them—a woman.

She was seated at a desk, flipping through a tome, her fingers gliding across the pages with precision. Dressed in dark robes, with silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, she looked more like a researcher than a fighter.

The moment she saw them, she sighed.

[Elara, adjusting her glasses]: "Took you long enough."

[Raine, frowning]: "Who… are you?"

[Elara, smirking]: "Elara. Rogue Scholar. One of the last people who still knows the true history of this world."

Lyra stepped forward, eyes narrowing.

[Lyra, skeptical]: "And why are you hiding in a cursed dungeon?"

Elara closed the book she was reading and gave them a knowing look.

[Elara, calmly]: "Because knowledge is dangerous. Especially knowledge about the 13 Kings."

A cold silence followed.

[Soren, raising an eyebrow]: "You know about them?"

Elara smiled—but there was no warmth in it.

[Elara, softly]: "I know more than you'd ever want to hear."

[ The Warning ]

Elara motioned for Raine to place the forbidden tome on the table.

As soon as he did, the book reacted.

Dark tendrils curled around the surface, pulsing, waiting.

[Elara, studying it]: "So you're the new wielder of Black Magic."

Raine tensed.

[Raine, cautious]: "You say that like it's happened before."

[Elara, nodding]: "Because it has."

She flipped the tome open to a particular passage.

And there, written in ancient script, was a single warning.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

Black Magic feeds on the soul of its wielder.

The stronger the spell, the higher the cost.

The air grew colder.

[Raine, exhaling slowly]: "…So every time I use it, it takes something from me."

Elara met his gaze.

[Elara, softly]: "Your strength. Your mind. Your soul. Whatever it decides."

A heavy silence followed.

And suddenly—the power he thought was his greatest weapon… felt like a curse.