The Town

The wind howled as they arrived at the decaying city gate. The rusted iron frame still bore fragments of the word "Welcome," though time and rot had long since stolen its warmth. Alira stared at the entrance with an expression caught between nostalgia and dread. Kael's eyes scanned the lifeless streets ahead, while the sky above this place hung darker than the open fields they had left behind. Storm-gray clouds blotted out the light as if the city itself resented illumination.

Lumino stood at the back, unmoving. A strange sensation tugged at his chest—like invisible strings were gently pulling him forward. He swallowed hard. The city… was calling to him.

"I never imagined the bustling city of my youth would become such a ghost town," Alira muttered, lifting her hand slightly as though trying to wave away a memory. "Still, it might be worth investigating. Who knows, we might find clues. Maybe even something about the caster of the Orb spell that's binding you two together. Worth a shot."

Kael glanced toward Lumino, who looked visibly tense. "What do you think, Lumino?"

Snapping out of his daze, Lumino forced a small smile and nodded.

"Well then!" Alira beamed, pointing a thumb at herself. "Good thing you've got a local guide."

The three began their descent into the city. Alira led, Kael followed closely behind, and Lumino trailed last. As they moved deeper, the air grew heavier. The buildings still stood tall and seemingly untouched, yet everything felt… wrong. Alira occasionally glanced around, quietly comparing the memories etched into her mind to the faded ruins they now passed.

"So," Kael said, smirking, "are you lost already, oh great tour guide?"

"Hey, I remember this! If we go straight and take a right, there used to be my favorite spell book vendor. Across from it? A fruit stall. Well… used to be, anyway."

Kael raised a brow. "You're just stalling. I still don't get it—what kind of disaster wipes out a whole city but leaves everything else intact?"

"No one really knows how long this place has been abandoned," Alira replied, her voice quieter now, tone oddly grim. "Or… maybe it's not abandoned at all. Perhaps we are unable to see them.

Kael chuckled, but Lumino didn't laugh. A sharp ringing bloomed in his left ear.

"...Lumino..."

He made a leftward turn. There was nothing there—but he swore he felt something… someone. The voice was soft. Familiar. It brushed against his senses like silk laced with ice. Cold sweat dripped from his brow.

"Guys... did you hear something?"

But Kael and Alira were too engrossed in their bickering to hear him.

"You're unbelievable!" Alira exclaimed, elbowing Kael in the ribs. "What, does my confidence bother you?"

"You're like a stray cat. I'm just saying maybe don't get us lost."

"Then walk alone!"

"Guys—" Lumino tried again, but his voice was drowned out.

"You seriously don't think it's strange?" Kael continued. "A city this big, and everyone just… vanished? No signs of struggle. No signs of panic. It's like they all just stopped existing."

"I feel it too," Alira murmured. "The moment we stepped in, the air turned sharp. Like it's biting into your bones."

They stopped, staring down an empty street.

Then—CLINK.

A bottle fell somewhere to their right.

Both turned, startled.

A large lizard scuttled out from the shadows, knocking the bottle over.

"Just a lizard…" Alira breathed in relief.

Kael gave a tense chuckle. "Scared you too, huh? Right, Lumino—"

He turned around.

Empty.

"Lumino?"

No reply.

"Alira, did you see him?"

"I thought he was right behind you. He was even holding your coat earlier…"

"He's gone."

Suddenly, Alira grabbed Kael's sleeve. "Kael… look."

Dozens of inky, humanoid shadows stretched down the street. Their forms, previously absent, now stood unmoving, blocking the path ahead. A chilling silence fell, broken only by the whisper of unseen wind against my skin.

"Sh-Shadows," Kael whispered.

Of course they'd appear. Wherever he was, the shadows always followed. It was written into his very fate. But never like this, Never so many.

"Kael… what do we do?" Alira's voice trembled.

He couldn't think. Lumino was gone. Gone beyond the five-meter pull range. And then he remembered—the potion. He had drunk Alira's prototype earlier. Three hours of freedom. Which meant Lumino could vanish without warning.

And the shadows were closing in.

Kael moved first. His sword sliced through the first one—clean. But it returned, reforming instantly.

"They have no bodies. Damn it!"

Alira cast a spell behind him, "Refi Alchemist: Unbind!" but it fizzled, the shadows unaffected.

"This isn't working," she shouted. "We need to run!"

Kael nodded, grabbing her arm. They sprinted through the foggy alley, slipping into a rundown granary. Kael closed the door and peeked through a crack, watching the swarm drift by like a tide of nightmares.

They waited in silence.

Alira covered her mouth, breath shallow. Kael stood guard at the entrance, mind racing.

Why wasn't his blade working? He was a Shadow Hunter, trained for this. Was he weakening… or were they growing stronger?

"I've never seen that many shadow creatures in one place," Kael muttered.

"You've dealt with them before?" Alira asked, eyes wide.

"In my world, yeah. But this… this is different."

"Shadow beings are ancient. Rare even in Letruish," Alira replied. "I only saw one once… with my coven."

"But that wasn't just a few. That was a plague."

Suddenly, a voice echoed from behind them:

"Those weren't shadows." They both froze.

They turned slowly—no one.

"Below. Look below."

Their gazes dropped.

To the floor.

A green-scaled lizard blinked up at them. The same lizard from before.

Alira let out a sigh. "Oh. Just the lizard—"

Wait.

"The lizard's talking?!" they screamed together.

The lizard flicked its tail.

"Don't be so shocked," the lizard said smugly. "Everything is possible once you're at the Advance stage. And besides—"

The creature began to shift. The air crackled as its form shimmered, elongating. A symphony of pops and cracks echoed as scales melted into skin. Moments later, a beautiful woman stood before them. Tall and slender, her long blue hair cascaded, her reptilian eyes glinting. Shimmering green scales traced her cheeks and arms, cool to the touch. A long tail curled around her ankle.

"—I was never just a lizard," she smirked.

"I'm a Lizardmen. The real question is... what are you two doing in her city?"

"Her city?" Kael echoed, narrowing his eyes.

The lizard-woman crossed her arms, her emerald eyes flashing. "Funny… You two are the first living humans I've seen here in centuries. What brings you to this place?"

Alira scoffed, a flash of disdain in her eyes. "A Lizardmen? I thought your kind went extinct five hundred years ago."

Phel gave a sharp grin. "Some of us survived… evolved, even. But don't dodge my question."

Kael exhaled sharply. "You sure know a lot. But it seems there's plenty you don't know either. Start talking."

"I'm a native of this city—long before it turned into a graveyard," Phel said, her voice softening slightly.

Alira's hands moved instinctively into a casting position. "You better introduce yourself properly… before I make you regret speaking."

Kael nearly sighed. 'Why is her temper flaring up like this now?'

The lizard-woman tilted her head. "A witch, huh? I'm Pheldephine. But you can call me Phel. This city… has been dead for 190 years."

Alira lowered her hands, biting back a sharp retort. Kael gently tapped her shoulder, silently telling her to calm down. He understood her frustration… because deep down, he shared it. They didn't know a damn thing.

Kael took a step forward. "We're looking for someone. White hair. Sapphire eyes. About 180 cm tall. Seen him?"

Phel shook her head. "No. You're the only humans I've seen."

Kael felt his stomach twist—a gnawing worry digging into his gut. And yet… a part of him wondered if this was how it felt standing against forces you couldn't understand.

Alira crossed her arms. "You said… her city. Who exactly is this 'her'?"

Phel smiled coldly. "Technically… it belongs to the Red Witch."

Alira's eyes widened, stunned. "Lady Seraphine?"

Phel clicked her tongue. "Don't tell me… you're a fan too."

"I…," Alira's expression twisted. "Not exactly."

Kael frowned. "Could someone explain this damn conversation?"

Phel's gaze turned sharp. "Trust me, there's nothing to gain by liking that woman. She brings only ruin… and plague."

"So you're a hater. I get it now," Alira said with a scowl.

Kael rubbed his temples. "So… Seraphine owns this city? Is that why the place is crawling with those things?"

"They're not shadows," Phel said flatly.

Kael blinked. "They're not… then what are they? My sword passed right through."

Phel stared dead into his eyes. "Ghosts."

Kael and Alira paled.

"More precisely… they were the people of this city," Phel whispered. "Now… they're something far worse."

Silence. Only the hollow wind outside filled the void.

Phel finally sat on a crate, resting her elbows on her knees. "Let me tell you what happened… 190 years ago. And how this city became a graveyard."

The memory began with the soft, worn voice of a middle-aged woman.

"Aren't you tired, Caroline?"

The young woman laughed softly, brushing sweat from her brow. "Not really, Auntie. I do this every day to take care of my mother. It's just part of life."

"You're talented with magic. You could join an advanced class, be recognized as a witch… why not?"

Caroline shook her head with a gentle smile. "I'm not that special. I'm fine here, selling fruit. I have no regrets."

Yet even as she said it, the words tangled in her throat.

The older woman gave a soft sigh. "If you say so… thank you for the fresh fruit. Send my regards to your mother."

Caroline waved as the woman left. She glanced around her stall, catching sight of a little lizard nibbling on a stray apple. She startled but quickly smiled. For some reason, she let it be.

Day by day, Caroline's simple life continued—selling fruit, caring for her sickly mother.

And strangely… the lizard stayed.

One day, she spoke to it.

"So… Phel. A suitor came today. He's not handsome… but he seems kind. Still, I wonder… would he change his mind if he knew about my mother's illness?"

The lizard tilted its head as if understanding. Caroline chuckled.

Days turned into weeks. The two became inseparable. She even named the lizard Pheldephine.

One afternoon, gossip swept through the city like wildfire.

"Did you hear? Witchcraft is now officially recognized in Letruish."

"Flirmus is becoming a magic hub. They say the old coven reformed… seeking immortality again."

"They lifted the ban on the title 'Red Witch.'"

Whispers filled the streets. But Caroline barely listened, busy selling fruit with her quiet smile… though a thousand questions swirled inside her heart.

Then came the heartbreak.

A man who once swore to marry her stood in her garden, his expression hollow.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Caroline lowered her head. Her voice was a whisper. "I understand."

Beside her, Phel watched with silent eyes.

"I guess… he figured out the truth. About my mother. About me."

Caroline forced a laugh. "But it's fine. I'm relieved, actually. Marriage… must be exhausting, right Phel?"

They walked together in the quiet dusk.

One day, Caroline showed the lizard an ancient tome she bought from the old bookstore.

"Look at this, Phel! It says… this spell can evolve an ordinary lizard into a Lizardfolk!"

Phel watched her with silent understanding.

Caroline's name spread through the city like wildfire; whispers spoke of a fruit seller using forbidden magic, rumored to be linked to the infamous Red Witch, Lady Seraphine—a chilling association that sent shivers down the spines of many.

An autodidact. A prodigy.

The next Red Witch.

That was how it all began. And Phel… regretted not walking away when she had the chance.

"They're exaggerating, Phel," Caroline murmured as she leaned lazily against the market stall, eyes half-lidded.

Pheldephine, now in her evolved Lizardmen form, crossed her arms. "But the truth is… you are talented. You even turned me into this."

Coraline chuckled. "Well, at least now I don't look like I'm talking to myself anymore." She laced her hands behind her head, trying to sound nonchalant.

Phel tilted her head. "If you're this gifted, why haven't you joined the advanced class yet?"

The question struck a chord. Caroline's smile faded. Was she afraid? Of changing… or of what she'd become if she truly embraced being a witch?

"I'm going to buy some chicken skewers," Phel announced, strolling toward a nearby vendor.

Caroline nodded absently, her mind wandering—until someone barreled into her from the adjacent alley.

They both stumbled, falling to the ground. The stranger's hood fell back slightly, revealing a pale, terrified face before they scrambled to their feet and bolted down the street without a word.

"Wait! You dropped something!" Coraline called, but the figure vanished into the crowd.

On the ground lay an old, crimson-bound grimoire—its cover the color of dried blood.

It pulsed faintly. Whispered. Lured her.

Caroline reached out, her hand trembling…

"What are you doing?" A firm tap on her shoulder startled her.

She turned. Phel stood there, holding a skewer in each hand.

"N-nothing." Coraline quickly shoved the book into her bag.

They walked home together. Caroline said nothing, but her thoughts spiraled deeper with every step.

The next morning, the town erupted in panic.

A man was discovered hanging lifelessly from an old oak tree at the edge of the strawberry fields the smell of damp earth and decaying berries filled the air.

"A body! There's a body!"

"Isn't that Coraline's mother who found it?"

"You mean the crazy woman? The one with those… sores all over her skin?"

"That family's cursed. Poor Caroline."

The whispers echoed in her ears long after the crowd dispersed.

"How's your mother?" Phel's soft voice broke her reverie.

Caroline stared at her own doorstep, blinking. "She's… calm now. I didn't expect her to walk all the way out there."

Phel placed a clawed hand on her shoulder. "Don't mind the gossip."

"You're right."

But Caroline couldn't shake the heaviness pressing on her heart.

Months passed. The body's identity remained a mystery. Meanwhile, the city swarmed with guards and patrols.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped low—

"It's today," Phel reminded her.

"Today?" Coraline blinked.

"The Coven arrives in Flirmus."

Of course. How could she forget? The famed witches of Letruish were coming.

The town square bustled with eager crowds. Caroline and Phel weaved between bodies until they reached the heart of the gathering.

Then… they descended, Seven witches in flowing dresses, shimmering with enchantments, floated down from the sky like falling stars.

The crowd erupted.

"The pride of Letruish!"

One by one, they introduced themselves—

Lemon, in bright yellow.

Crystal, draped in cerulean blue.

Staly, clad in pure white.

Erna, a soft emerald green.

Tery, a shocking pink.

Wistery, cloaked in deep violet.

And the last…

Her dress bled crimson.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," Tery spoke first.

"We won't be staying long," Lemon added.

From the crowd came a shout—

"Is that woman the Red Witch's successor?"

"Indeed," Crystal answered, her smile sharp.

A jolt ran through Coraline, She felt… something, Joy? Fear? But—

"What nonsense," Wistery snapped. "We haven't decided yet."

"Oh, come on. We agreed," Tery shot back.

"You think Teracota's worthy of replacing the Lady Seraphine?"

"Wistery! No one can replace her. But Teracota is—"

"I'd pick Alira over her any day," Staly interjected.

"Lylith would be better!" Erna chimed.

The crowd murmured in confusion as the witches bickered openly.

And just like that, they dispersed—leaving Flirmus with nothing but rumors and a trail of disappointment.

Coraline returned to her stall… feeling emptier than ever.

Was this all her life amounted to? Selling fruit to people who whispered behind her back? Watching from the sidelines as others seized fate with both hands?

"You're the prodigy, aren't you?"

A low, rich voice laced with venom sent a shiver down Caroline's spine.

She looked up.

Standing in front of her stall was a woman with violet eyes that gleamed like glass. Her raven-black hair cascaded in waves, framing sharp, beautiful features accentuated by gothic makeup.

"The one they call the next Red Witch… Caroline."

The woman smiled—a slow, knowing curve of her lips.

"I've always wanted to meet you."

Coraline's heart seized. She stumbled back, her face flushing with a mixture of awe and dread.

"W-Wistery… The Violet Witch!?"

This can't be real… Am I dreaming? Caroline whispered in her heart.

"You're not dreaming," Wistery replied gently.

"You… can read my mind?" Caroline asked, stunned.

"There's no need. It's written all over your face."

Wistery then reached out her hand, helping Caroline back on her feet.

"What brings you here… Lady Wistery?" Caroline asked, trying to calm her racing heart.

Wistery leaned closer—so close their faces nearly touched. Caroline's breath hitched. Isn't this way too close?

"I came… just to meet you," Wistery whispered.

Caroline felt her heart slam against her chest.

"I believe you're the one worthy of becoming the next Red Witch. I've heard the rumors—you taught yourself everything, mastering spells most spend a lifetime learning. You're… extraordinary."

"Your words… make me happy," Caroline murmured shyly.

"I'm convinced. Compared to Teracota, you're the real deal." Wistery smiled.

"With three votes from the Coven, we can name you the successor. All you have to do is leave this filthy town and those rags behind… and come with me to the Capital."

Caroline froze. Filthy town…?

So if she became the Red Witch, she would never have to come back here?

But what about Phel? What about… Mother?

"I'm not worthy… Lady Wistery. And I can't abandon this place."

Wistery's face fell into an unreadable calm.

"You're right. Leaving one's hometown… it's not so easy. I understand."

She turned away, but before walking off, tossed a small device toward Caroline. It looked like a charm or an earring.

"Alchemy. Staly made it. If you ever change your mind… call me."

Caroline stared at the device in her palm.

So many emotions churned inside her.

If only… If only Mother… disappeared…

"Caroline! Caroline!!"

Extinguish the fire!!

Caroline blinked—

She was standing before her burning house.

Her mother… was inside.

"Caroline! We need to pour water—!"

Phel's voice rang out.

But Caroline… only smiled.

Finally…

"Caroline!!"

The shout shook her from the trance. The villagers scrambled to help as she dumped water onto the flames.

When the fire died, she rushed inside—

…and there, amidst the charred ruin, lay the rotting corpse of her mother.

She fell to her knees, tears spilling as sobs wracked her body.

The villagers watched in hushed pity.

But her gaze… drifted to a corner of the room—

A book.

The same book that stranger had dropped—the blood-red grimoire.

Untouched by fire.

And beside it…

A little girl.

Her eyes… crimson.

Her skin… pale as death.

A dress… red like fresh blood.

Black hair with white streaks framed her smiling face.

She lifted a single finger to her lips.

"Shhh… It's alright, Caroline. I cast a protection spell on the book. It won't burn."

Caroline's eyes widened.

No one else noticed the child.

Only… her.

"Our hearts… are connected, Caroline. You opened the book. You freed me. Only you… can see me."

Caroline hugged her mother's corpse, choking on her breath. Her lips trembled as she whispered—a voice only she could hear.

"…Who… are you?"

The little girl smiled.

"Sera—…"

Her name… was swallowed by silence.

Caroline locked eyes with the child.

And deep, deep inside her heart…

She whispered back, her voice tinged with a strange warmth—

"…Nice to meet you, Sera."

----------------------

"My deepest condolences… Caroline," said the woman who used to buy fruits from her stand.

One by one, neighbors and customers offered their sympathy.

Even Wistery came—this time with Staly—joining the quiet funeral crowd.

Caroline clenched her fists.

Why… am I smiling inside… even though she's gone?

Memories of her mother were… few.

Her mother—the drunkard.

The woman who abandoned her for ten years, leaving Caroline to fend for herself.

The day she found out her mother had been a prostitute…

That was the day she returned home, diseased, deranged…

Dumped by a client who'd promised her love… and marriage.

Caroline was only ten when she first saw her like that.

And yet… she'd vowed to take care of her.

Because she believed she had to be a devoted daughter.

She believed… she owed it.

But then…

"Wasn't your devotion just hypocrisy?"

Sera's voice echoed in her ears—whispering to her in the dark corner of her bedroom, the night before the funeral.

"You took care of your mother to craft an image—a dutiful, caring daughter. You're only good at manipulating… yourself."

Sera smiled, her tiny figure sitting curled at Caroline's bedside.

Caroline stared at her knees.

"Sorcery… spells… they're my salvation."

She whispered back.

Sera smiled again, nestling her head on Caroline's lap.

"And you're mine," Sera replied softly.

Those eyes…

They pulled Caroline in.

—

At the funeral, surrounded by mere villagers and passersby, a hush fell as two witches arrived.

Wistery… and Staly.

Caroline snapped out of her daze.

"Caroline, the witches are here."

Phel gently touched her back, urging her to stand.

With empty eyes, Caroline obeyed.

Wistery met her gaze—and extended a hand.

Murmurs stirred among the villagers.

What's Caroline's connection with these witches?

"My condolences. I'm sorry for your loss."

Wistery grasped Caroline's hand.

Then, with a soft pull, she embraced her.

"We leave tomorrow. Flirmus wasn't our only destination… we came here searching for something," she whispered in Caroline's ear.

"I'm still waiting… for your answer."

Then she released her—and walked away.

Leaving Caroline… with that voice trailing inside her mind…

"So… you're close with her now? What will you do? Will you call her?"

Sera's voice echoed faintly.

"…Yes," Caroline replied to the whisper.

"I will."

—

The next morning, Phel woke to find Caroline's bed… empty.

—

At the outskirts of town, a woman sipped her earl grey tea.

Wistery.

She glanced up, noticing the hesitant figure approaching.

"You came.

Why don't you sit first?"

She gestured gracefully to the seat opposite her.

Once Caroline sat, Wistery wasted no time.

"So? According to your message… what do you want to discuss?"

Caroline swallowed hard. She opened her bag…revealed the old, crimson-bound book.

Wistery's eyes widened. "Where did you get this?" She set her teacup down.

Caroline's fingers twitched.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sera sitting nearby—swinging her legs playfully on the bench, wearing her usual smile.

"That book contains a hundred forbidden spells," Wistery murmured.

"Written by none other than the Red Witch herself… Lady Seraphine.

We came to this city because we heard rumors it surfaced here…

And that the one who carried it… died."

Wistery fixed her eyes on Caroline.

"…Did you open it?"

Caroline slowly looked up at the ceiling.

Her eyes then drifted toward Sera.

A strange calm washed over her.

"I thought as much…

Sera… you are Lady Seraphine… aren't you?"

Sera's smile twisted—turning into something grotesque.

Her cheeks pulled unnaturally high, her eyes glinting with wicked delight—

Then, with a soft giggle… she vanished.

"Caroline!

You haven't answered me!" Wistery's voice cut through.

Caroline turned her head slowly.

Her eyes half-lidded, lips curling faintly. One hand brushed back her hair—

Something deep inside her cracking, beyond repair.

"You're right…I opened it. In fact…

I've read every single page."