The chamber trembled.
Mana saturated the air.
Every spell stood on the verge of being unleashed.
Draven took a single step forward.
Thin strands of dark mana slowly seeped from his body.
Like black threads drifting through the air.
Each strand carried an oppressive pressure that caused the surrounding runes to flicker.
Beside him—
Aldric's crimson mana erupted.
Blood-red mist rolled through the chamber around him.
A savage grin spread across his face.
"...Been waiting for this."
Kaelira lowered herself into a crouch.
Her wolf ears stood straight.
A broad smile stretched across her face.
"...Hehe..."
"...I've been wanting to fight someone."
She slowly flexed her fingers.
"...Just thinking about it..."
"...gets my blood pumping."
Across the chamber—
none of the cloaked figures retreated.
One stepped forward.
"...Do you truly believe we fear vampires?"
Another raised his staff.
"...You dare stand before us..."
"...and claim to be the True Lord of the Abyss?"
"...Blasphemy."
A third spoke coldly.
"...For insulting the Abyss Lords..."
"...you will be punished."
One magic circle...
Then another...
Then another...
The chamber glowed with dozens of overlapping formations.
Mana surged violently.
Near the back—
Ryke slowly began inching away.
One careful step.
Then another.
Cold sweat rolled down his face.
*...Damn.*
*These lunatics are really going to fight...*
*They're all monsters.*
*I need to stay the hell away before somebody accidentally cuts me in half...*
He quietly continued retreating toward one of the massive stone pillars.
Draven remained expressionless.
"...I don't give a shit..."
"...what any of you think."
His crimson eyes swept across every cultist present.
"...Nor do I care..."
"...what you believe you're capable of doing."
A brief silence followed.
"...I came here for a reason."
"...You'll comply."
His voice remained calm.
"...If you choose otherwise..."
He never finished the sentence.
The strands of dark mana surrounding him multiplied.
The chamber itself seemed to grow heavier.
Even breathing became noticeably more difficult.
Aldric laughed.
"...Guess negotiations are over."
His poleaxe slowly lowered.
"...Time to die..."
"...you rats."
Pythia quietly observed both sides.
A soft sigh escaped her lips.
*...Idiots.*
*I knew words alone wouldn't persuade them...*
*But to attack...*
*Even after witnessing My Lord...*
*How utterly blind.*
A magic circle slowly unfolded beneath her feet.
Its intricate runes rotated silently.
Without taking her eyes off the cultists, she spoke.
"...My Lord."
"...If possible..."
"...please don't kill them."
She paused.
"...Though they deserve death for their ignorance..."
"...our objective comes first."
"...Leaving them barely breathing will suffice."
Mana reached its peak.
The cultists raised their hands.
Draven stepped forward once more.
Kaelira's muscles coiled.
Aldric tightened his grip around his poleaxe.
The battle was about to begin—
Then—
**RUMBLE...**
Everyone froze.
A section of the chamber wall suddenly shifted.
Ancient stone ground loudly against itself.
A hidden passage slowly opened.
Every head turned.
Even the cultists lowered their spells.
From within the darkness—
two cloaked figures emerged.
Their robes differed from those of the others.
The figure in front wore a smooth black mask that concealed the entire face.
No eyes were visible.
No expression.
Only two narrow slits emitted a faint crimson glow.
The second figure stopped a respectful distance behind the first.
The chamber fell into complete silence.
The masked figure slowly surveyed everyone present.
His gaze paused briefly upon Pythia.
Then shifted to Aldric.
Finally—
it settled upon Draven.
He remained perfectly motionless.
For several long seconds—
no one spoke.
Then—
one of the surrounding cultists hurriedly dropped to one knee.
"...E-Elder."
The others immediately followed.
One after another—
they knelt.
Heads lowered.
"...Elder."
"...Elder."
"...Elder."
Only Draven's group remained standing.
The masked elder ignored the kneeling cultists.
His attention never left Draven.
Then—
a calm, aged voice echoed from behind the mask.
"...So..."
"...you are the one..."
"...who has caused so much unrest among my followers."
The chamber remained silent.
The elder's gaze never wavered.
The oppressive mana lingering in the air had yet to disperse.
Aldric looked the elder up and down.
Then smirked.
"...And who exactly are you supposed to be?"
No reply came immediately.
Instead—
Pythia quietly stepped forward.
Her head lowered.
"...Teacher."
The single word caused several of the surrounding cultists to glance upward in surprise.
The masked elder finally spoke.
His aged voice remained calm.
"...Young Pythia."
A brief pause.
"...What is the meaning of this?"
"...And what are your intentions?"
Pythia remained silent.
Before she could answer—
Aldric spoke again.
His crimson eyes casually swept over the elder.
"...So..."
"...the old man's your teacher."
He tilted his head slightly.
"...Only a Fourth-Circle Mage..."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"...Not that different from you."
"...Just one circle higher."
The elder offered no visible reaction.
Kaelira looked from Aldric—
to the elder—
then toward Draven.
"...So..."
She scratched her cheek.
"...Are we still fighting or not?"
Her tail swayed lazily behind her.
"...We're not stopping just because one old man showed up..."
"...Are we?"
Silence.
Pythia's eyes instinctively turned toward Draven.
Everyone else's followed.
Draven looked at the masked elder for several long seconds.
Then—
he took a single step backward.
Nothing more.
No explanation.
Pythia immediately understood.
She bowed her head slightly.
"...Yes, My Lord."
Aldric blinked.
"...Oh."
"...Guess we're not."
Kaelira puffed out her cheeks.
"...Aww."
"...Seriously?"
She clicked her tongue.
"...I was just getting excited."
Near one of the pillars—
Ryke slowly released the breath he'd been holding.
He muttered under his breath.
"...Good..."
"...Very good."
"...Let's keep it that way."
The masked elder quietly observed the exchange.
His hidden gaze lingered on Draven.
Then shifted to Pythia.
Finally—
he spoke.
"...Explain."
Pythia stepped forward.
Her voice returned to its usual calm.
"...Teacher."
"...I have not come here as an enemy."
She briefly glanced toward Draven.
"...Nor have I betrayed the Cult."
"...I have merely found my true Lord."
A brief silence followed.
She continued without hesitation.
"...I came only to request passage."
Another slight pause.
"...My Lord requires the summoning circle..."
"...and the mages necessary to open a breach."