Leo sat alone in his room, resting back in a wooden chair as his thoughts turned heavy. A decision had to be made, one that would affect more than just Hope. An urgent gathering would follow, but before that, there was someone he needed to see.
His awareness rose from the physical world and slipped into his domain. A heartbeat later, he sat upon his throne, the familiar weight of authority settling over him. The space around him was silent, vast, and obedient to his will.
With a flick of his finger, the mirror beside the throne shimmered to life. Marco's image formed on its surface.
Marco stood in the middle of the blacksmith's workshop, the air was thick with heat. A hammer rose and fell in steady rhythm, striking glowing metal against the anvil. Sweat ran down his forehead, his arms moving with practiced precision. He was fully focused.
Within his domain, Leo gathered mana and shaped it carefully. The creation spell would answer him here like inside his dome. The energy condensed, forming a body identical to his own, solid and physical. This method consumed far less mana than traveling himself.
The newly formed Leo stepped forward. A portal opened before him, edges glowing faintly, and he walked through without hesitation.
In the next instant, he emerged beside Marco.
Marco reacted on instinct. He jumped back, his hand flying to his sword as it cleared the sheath in one smooth motion. Then his eyes locked onto Leo's face. Recognition struck, and his grip loosened. Slowly, he lowered the blade, shock written plainly across his expression.
Edgar Wilkerson, standing nearby, did not move. He studied Leo in silence. In his eyes was no fear, only sharp focus. He sensed it immediately, something ancient, something powerful, standing before him.
"Mr. Leo?" Marco asked, his voice unsteady. "You're… you're back?"
Leo turned his head slightly. "Yes."
"What are you doing here? How did you…"
Leo raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "I'm here to meet your teacher," he said calmly. "The man who once taught the God of Light himself."
Marco's mouth fell open. Words failed him entirely.
"Marco," Leo continued, his tone gentle but firm, "please give us a moment."
It took Marco a few seconds to collect himself. Then he nodded stiffly and walked out of the workshop, glancing back once before closing the door behind him.
The space fell quiet. Only Leo and Edgar remained.
After a few seconds of silence, the two men studied each other. Edgar's expression stayed calm, but his eyes were sharp, searching. Finally, he spoke.
"How did you find out?"
"I met someone who came from that time," Leo replied evenly.
Edgar exhaled slowly. "And what do you want from me?"
"Information," Leo said. "I want to know what you know about him. My god plans to bring him down."
Edgar raised an eyebrow. "So it's true. You're the vessel of that Creator Marco talked about." He shook his head and let out a dry laugh. "Then you should already know why I can't speak freely. He knows exactly where I am. He allows me to live because I taught him much, but if I say too much, he'll erase me before I finish a sentence."
"He's sealed for now," Leo said calmly.
Edgar's gaze hardened. "As long as sunlight exists, he can still see. That seal only limits him, it doesn't blind him."
"I see," Leo replied.
He turned his head toward the window.
Leo raised his hand, and sphere of creation formed above his palm. It pulsed once, then expanded. Shadows poured outward, spreading like ink through water. The light in the room dimmed rapidly.
Edgar's eyes widened. He stood and rushed to the window.
Outside, dark clouds rolled across the sky, swallowing the sun. Lightning cracked through the heavens, briefly illuminating the city before plunging it back into darkness.
"His light won't reach you now," Leo said, his voice carrying an unnatural weight for a brief moment.
The sphere vanished as Leo's presence returned to normal.
Edgar stared at him for a long second, then slowly sat back down.
"…Alright," he said at last. "I'll tell you everything I know."
…
Marco was pacing outside when a sudden crash of thunder made him jump. Darkness swept over the street in an instant, as if night had fallen all at once. People froze where they stood. Conversations died mid-sentence, and a few shouted in alarm. Shop doors slammed shut, parents pulled children close, and uneasy murmurs spread as everyone looked up at the sky, fear settling over the street like a heavy weight.
"What's going on?" he muttered, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard. "Are they fighting?"
He turned back toward the blacksmith's shop. A heavy pressure leaked through the walls, subtle but unmistakable. It wasn't violent, but it was deep, ancient, overwhelming. Marco could feel it pressing against his chest, raising the hairs on his arms.
Whatever was happening inside, it was far beyond him.
…
"The prince was a clever man," Edgar said slowly. "He always acted righteous, so convincing that even the three masters of the capital were fooled."
"And one of them was you," Leo said quietly.
Edgar nodded. "I was a blacksmith, but more than that, I was the strongest enchanter of that era. He chose enchantment as his main path, and as the king's son, he was entrusted to me." Edgar's eyes darkened. "I taught him everything I knew. Swordsmanship he learned from the army's general, and elemental magic from the archmage… her name escapes me now."
For the next half hour, Edgar spoke without pause. He described the prince's fighting style, precise, patient, never reckless. He spoke of long-laid plans, of how the prince manipulated events from the shadows, always letting others take the blame. He explained how the prince deliberately led people out of the Shadowland, back into places where sunlight could reach them, where his power was absolute.
"He wanted to become a god," Edgar continued. "And to be worshiped, people had to live. A dead world offers no faith."
Edgar's voice grew heavier. "In the end, he betrayed the elves. That betrayal is why their numbers are so few today."
Leo remained silent, listening.
"In the final battle, before he ascended," Edgar said, "he and the elven archmage performed a ritual. They sacrificed everyone present, humans, elves, dwarves, even orcs. The mana of the dead was used to open the gate to hell… but the ritual was incomplete." He exhaled slowly. "Before it could fully succeed, the gods intervened. You already know how that war ended."
Leo nodded.
"Betrayal really suits him," Leo said after a moment. "He betrayed his people, the elves, the gods, and the world itself. He even joined hands with the Mad God and opened a path to hell." His eyes narrowed. "What was his name?"
Edgar hesitated, his brow furrowing as if the memory resisted him. After a few seconds, he spoke.
"Vergil Sylvian."
Leo's expression twisted slightly. "A shame," he muttered. "That bastard had a good name." Then his face hardened. "Thank you. Soon, this world will be free of him."
"Do not underestimate him," Edgar warned. "He is very cunning."
"I won't," Leo replied. Then he raised his voice. "Marco."
Until now, a spell had sealed the house, preventing sound from escaping. Leo released it, and his voice carried freely.
The door opened, and Marco stepped inside, still tense from what he had felt moments earlier.
"We're going to have a gathering soon," Leo said. "Get ready."
As he spoke, the dark clouds outside began to thin, the lightning fading as quickly as it had come. At the same time, Leo's form started to blur.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The workshop returned to normal, warm light, steady air, the familiar smell of metal and oil, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
Marco stood frozen, his eyes fixed on his teacher. He had always known Edgar had another student before him, but to think that man had once taught the God of Light himself…
"How long are you going to stand there?" Edgar said calmly. "Continue your training."
Marco blinked, then nodded. He returned to his seat and picked up his tools, moving as if nothing had happened. If Mr. Leo had left without taking action, that meant Edgar was safe, for now. And despite everything he had learned, Marco still chose to trust his teacher.
The hammer rose and fell once more, its steady rhythm filling the room.
…
When Leo dismissed his true clone, he leaned back against his throne once more. The weight of what he had learned settled in his mind, but instead of clarity, it brought even more questions.
The God of Light had followed the path of enchanting as his main discipline. No being was supposed to master more than a few paths. The last one who tried was the Destroyer, and he had been imprisoned before he could succeed. The second was Leo himself.
The other thing was that Leo still didn't understand why that spell existed within his domain in the first place. To find that answer, he would need to go to Ethereon, the land of the gods.
At least now, the history of the world made sense.
In the old era, one god had fallen, and another had been imprisoned. Then came the middle era, when the prince deceived everyone, even the gods themselves, triggering the next great war. One by one, Selvanna, Ilandra, the God of Magic, and the Guardian of Earth fell. Through their sacrifice, and with Lilith's power, the world avoided total destruction.
But that victory came at a cost. Lilith had been wounded while fighting the new God of Magic, and she failed to fully suppress the corruption in the Shadowland.
Now, four major enemies stood in Leo's path.
First was the Mad God, who had been pulling strings since the beginning, lurking behind nearly every disaster from the old era to the present.
Second was the new God of Magic, an unknown threat Leo knew almost nothing about.
Third was the Beast God, corruption given form, something that had to be destroyed before it consumed everything.
And finally, the God of Light, the one Leo intended to face first.
Beyond them were other dangers. Bahamut's fragment still existed, bearing the sealed gate within it.
And above all of them stood the two most terrifying threats of all, more dangerous than any god.
The Destroyer and the Void.
Leo exhaled slowly.
There was too much to do, too many enemies, too many unanswered questions. But every war began with a single step.
And he already knew where he would start.
…
One hour later, the meeting had finally begun. After the greetings, Leo briefly explained the maze to Liam and Marco, the only two who had no knowledge of it, that knowledge included Edgar Wilkerson. Once they understood, he moved on to his conclusions about the history of the world.
Every member sat in silence, their expressions heavy with thought. The weight of what Leo revealed pressed on them, and for a moment, it seemed like even the air in the room had thickened. After a pause, Liam broke the silence, his voice tense.
"The magic being sealed… it was because of the new god of magic, but the gate of hell opened anyway?"
Leo nodded solemnly. "Yes. I believe the god of light's main goal was to open the gate of hell so he could erase all the remaining gods with the help of the Destroyer. When that failed, he resorted to his next trick, making it seem like the shadowland was the source of all evil while portraying himself as the protector of the world. But the Goddess of the Moon was stronger than he anticipated. He likely planned to connect the gate of hell's opening to the shadowland so that all blame would fall there. What he didn't expect was the Pope, who ruined his scheme."
Arthur's face darkened for a brief moment, the memory evident in his eyes, before he forced a neutral expression.
"Mr. Leo," Marco asked, his voice small but steady, "should I… what should I do? My teacher really taught the god of light?"
Leo's gaze swept the room. "He did," Leo confirmed. "But he is not a bad man. If anything goes wrong, pray to the Creator. Help will come."
Marco exhaled slowly, a faint smile appearing as the worry in his eyes began to fade, though the memory of what he had learned still lingered.
"All that aside," Leo continued, his tone shifting to focus, "we need to decide on our next attack. The Beast will fall soon, but we must be ready for what comes after."
The room grew quiet again, the gravity of their situation settling over everyone. They were preparing to face more than just enemies, they were facing the consequences of history itself, and each of them knew the stakes had never been higher.