The clock struck five in the afternoon.
A middle-aged man in an expensive suit hurried out of his car, his steps shaky and unsteady.
He had just arrived at an old building hidden deep in a remote area—a place that gave off an eerie, almost haunted atmosphere.
"Huff... thank goodness I made it in time," he muttered before quickly heading inside.
Not long after, he stopped in front of a massive wooden door carved with ancient patterns—one of the rooms within the old mansion.
The most oppressive room in the entire house.
He stared at it carefully.
Dense fog and strands of blackish energy seeped out from the gaps of the door, making it clear that whatever was inside wasn't something an ordinary person could approach freely.
Then, before long, a hoarse voice echoed directly inside his ears.
An old man's voice.
It didn't come from anywhere around him. Only he could hear it, as though the voice had been directed solely at him.
"State your business."
The man flinched slightly before hurriedly explaining his purpose.
Not long after, he finished speaking and lowered his head deeply, almost as if begging for his request to be granted.
"That will take some time," the voice replied.
"Some time? C-Couldn't... you do it sooner? I'm a little—"
Before he could finish speaking, a surge of black energy shot out from the room, wrapping around his neck and lifting him into the air.
"Are you teaching me how to do my work?!" the voice thundered coldly, fury dripping from every word.
The middle-aged man struggled desperately.
His breathing was cut off, pain spreading throughout his body, but the black energy was far too overwhelming for him to resist.
"N-No...! I was wrong... Please forgive me..." he choked out.
Only then was he released.
He collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently as he desperately tried to catch his breath.
"F-Forgive me, sir... cough... I'm just worried about my son's condition," he pleaded.
No response came from the voice.
Eventually, the middle-aged man felt it was best for him to leave.
But just as he was about to do so, the door slowly creaked open.
A young woman in traditional attire stepped out from inside, carrying a tray in her hands. Resting atop it was a small brown pill radiating a faint white aura.
"Give this pill to your child for now," the voice instructed. "It will help stabilize his condition."
"As for the rest... I'll inform you once everything is prepared."
The middle-aged man accepted the pill, relief immediately flooding his face. He quickly knelt down and bowed deeply.
"Th-Thank you very much, sir."
The young woman stepped back into the room and quietly closed the door behind her.
Then the old man's voice echoed once more.
"Very well. You may leave now."
The middle-aged man bowed again. "Yes, sir."
Then he turned around and left.
Inside the room, ritual tools and drifting incense smoke mixed together with dense dark energy.
A blackish-red glow illuminated the entire space, giving it an oppressive and ominous atmosphere.
The owner of the voice—a figure who actually looked more like a young man, though still shrouded in darkness—sat upright in a meditative position.
Several young women surrounded him silently.
His eyes opened slightly, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
"People in this city are surprisingly easy to manipulate with supernatural things," he murmured. "Interesting."
He let out a soft hum before continuing,
"At the very least, the rumor that I'm some old man will spread around. That way, even if that group arrives in this city, they won't suspect me."
He then picked up a sheet of paper resting in front of him.
Printed on it was a photo of a figure dressed entirely in black. Part of their back was exposed, revealing a strange symbol—a seven-pointed star engraved with an unfamiliar and intricate pattern.
"That group led by this monster..."
His eyes darkened coldly.
"...is really troublesome."
Then he slowly closed his eyes once more as the incense smoke thickened and the surrounding fog grew even denser.
---
At the same time, at Hazandeen Academy.
The dismissal bell had just rung.
Al, who had been sleeping through class, suddenly woke up when an itch tickled his nose.
"Atchoo!"
Red eyes, slightly messy hair, and a faintly runny nose.
The sight was enough to amuse the students sitting near him.
Al himself only looked around in confusion.
"Did someone curse me or something? I suddenly sneezed..." he muttered.
But seeing everyone already packing up to go home, he let out one final yawn and started gathering his things as well.
"Finally... time to go home and rest after such a tiring day of serious studying," he mumbled.
This time, the students around him looked utterly disgusted. Several rolled their eyes, while others looked like they wanted to curse at him on the spot.
How could someone who spent the entire day sleeping proudly claim he was exhausted from studying seriously?
And so ended another exhausting school day for the self-proclaimed Yellow Flash fanboy.
---
Meanwhile, at the very top of a tall building not far from the HIHS complex.
Two figures stood silently, gazing down upon the bustling city of Makazhar that was beginning to grow lively again as the late afternoon unfolded.
Both of them wore dark brownish cloaks with deep hoods pulled low, their faces concealed beneath heavy shadows.
The evening wind blew strongly across the rooftop, tugging at the edges of their cloaks and making the fabric whip in the air, giving an even more mysterious impression to their presence.
One of the figures seemed to freeze in place, caught off guard the moment his eyes fell upon Al, who had just stepped out from the school gates.
Hidden beneath the hood, his eyes widened slightly, and his breathing hitched for the briefest second.
"What is it?" the other figure asked, noticing how his companion's attention was locked entirely on Al.
"That boy…?" the figure murmured, his low voice carrying a faint tremor, as if suppressing an emotion he did not want to show.
"Hmm." The other one shifted her gaze toward Al as well. "Do you know that boy?" she asked, her tone laced with a hint of puzzlement.
After staring intently for a moment, the first figure slowly shook his head.
"No. I only thought he looked familiar. But perhaps I was mistaken," he replied calmly.
"I didn't know you had the habit of rambling on a bright day like this. Haha." The other spoke with a mocking undertone as she pulled back her hood.
Her laugh was light, but her eyes were sharp, scrutinizing.
"Still, that kid is kind of cute." She added.
Revealed beneath the hood was the face of a woman who appeared mature, her long hair cascading down in strands of black and silver.
A dark line marked her right cheek, stretching from beneath her eye all the way down to her chin.
Her sharp gaze carried weight, yet the faint smile curving her lips made her appear all the more dangerous.
"Stop joking around. Our mission matters far more than toying with some useless boy," the other figure said sternly as he removed his hood as well.
His face was that of a grown man with medium-length hair, colored with shades of dark brown and black. Two black lines extended from beneath his right eye down to his chin.
His expression was rigid, like stone carved without the slightest hint of laughter.
"Relax. Relax. Those artifacts aren't going anywhere. We'll find them sooner or later," the woman replied in a playful tone, folding her arms across her chest while casting a casual glance at the sprawling city below.
"Be serious!" the man barked, his voice echoing sharply, filling the rooftop with a sudden silence.
"Ugh… you really can't take a single joke, can you?" the woman complained, pulling out a white talisman inscribed with ancient runes from within her cloak.
Her fingers were delicate, but her movements were swift and precise, the kind of motion that could only come from long practice with such rituals.
Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, they seemed to understand each other perfectly—sparks of silent comprehension flashing in their gaze.
"Sir Fahruk will handle this area. Our next target is…" the man said as he revealed a similar white talisman.
He stared at it with an expression as though he were looking at a map leading straight into hell. "…that place."
Then—
WOSHHHH!
A surge of thick black smoke erupted from the talisman, dense yet cutting, enveloping them both.
The smoke twisted violently, swirling into a vortex like the jaws of darkness ready to devour everything in its path.
Within its rotation, faint whispers echoed—like the fragmented cries of a thousand restless souls.
The two figures exchanged faint smiles as they pulled their hoods back on. The smoke swallowed their bodies completely, and in the next instant, they were gone.
Only a torn fragment of the talisman, nearly burned to ashes, was left behind.
The piece drifted slowly through the air, carried away by the evening wind, as though it were the sole silent witness to their departure.
---
Al had already walked quite a distance away from the school grounds.
He took his time strolling along the sidewalk, the cool afternoon breeze brushing gently against his face.
Then, his magical instincts suddenly stirred. Something unusual.
From somewhere high above, he sensed a strange magical fluctuation—brief, yet sharp enough to catch his attention.
Without turning around, he quietly heightened his magical senses.
Too late.
Whatever it was had already disappeared, leaving behind only a faint trace of energy lingering in the air.
Fortunately, that residual aura felt familiar.
He recognized it. A magical signature belonging to a group he knew all too well.
"Woah... I thought my business in this city was only about dealing with rogue shamans and random spiritual disturbances," he mused.
"Turns out... that group has already made its way here too. But... why this place of all places?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"As far as I know, that group's obsessed with searching for ancient artifacts and hidden treasures..."
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"Wait... don't tell me there's actually treasure in this city?"
He began thinking more deeply about the region.
Back when magic was still widespread, this area had once been a major center for transportation, maritime trade, and commercial activity throughout Southeast Asia and Oceania.
This region—along with almost the entirety of eastern Indorosia and much of Oceania—had once been ruled by a great kingdom known as the Gouva Kingdom.
At the height of its glory, it was led by King Zaltan Hazandeen, famously known as The Crimson Rooster of the East. His military force had been regarded as one of the strongest of that era.
That golden age made the region extremely important, allowing magical phenomena—including ancient artifacts—to emerge and circulate throughout the area.
But centuries ago, during the colonial era, a massive catastrophe struck as technology and machinery began replacing magic.
Civilizations collapsed. Kingdoms were destroyed. Legendary figures sacrificed themselves resisting the invaders as heroes—King Hazandeen among them.
As time passed, magical civilization slowly faded away. People became far more dependent on machines than studying magic.
All that remained were ancient relics and artifacts whose true functions had long been forgotten by the modern world.
And because of that, this region still held enormous potential as a hidden mine of ancient artifacts.
Even so, modern development had likely buried most of them.
After all, Al himself had lived here for over a decade and rarely found any artifacts—let alone ones with something truly valuable inside.
"Hmph... whatever," he concluded.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Still... that group's getting bolder and bolder moving around this city. No idea what they're after..."
His voice remained calm.
"But if they end up crossing paths with me—or my people... they'd better step aside."
His eyes sharpened, turning cold.
"Because this city is my domain."
And just like that, he continued walking forward as though nothing had happened.
---
During his leisurely walk, Al occasionally checked the time.
It was only 5:07 PM, but he was already feeling a little uneasy. He needed to be home by around 5:30 at the latest.
He glanced around, wanting to admire the faint orange sky stretching across the city, but he didn't have much time to spare.
The student-only bus stop wasn't far ahead. The buses were free, thankfully.
Unfortunately, there wasn't one near his school. Being an elite academy, it was located in a more secluded area, forcing him to make his way to this much busier district instead.
It was the same bus he often took to maintain his image as a poor orphan (well, technically, ex-orphan).
He was a Virellano now... but since his family still hadn't given him an allowance, his financial situation hadn't changed all that much.
But just as he quickened his pace, a faint sound suddenly caught his attention.
"Meooow... Meow..."
A kitten's cry.
It came from somewhere nearby, though he couldn't tell exactly where.
Quite a few people seemed to hear it as well, yet no one bothered to stop.
To most people, a stray animal was nothing more than a nuisance—not worth a second glance.
Al felt much the same way. And yet, for some reason, his instincts kept telling him he needed to help it. He tried to ignore it and keep walking. Too troublesome.
But then he stopped.
Turning back, he stared in the direction of the sound for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh.
"...Fine," he muttered.
In the end, the one who stepped in was Al—the very person who hated getting involved in troublesome things.
Activating his magical senses, he searched the surrounding area. Soon, he detected a faint trace of energy hidden somewhere near a large roadside drain.
"There."
His eyes narrowed.
"Its energy is fading... It'll die soon."
The problem was the position. It was deep under the drain, cramped and filthy.
And he definitely couldn't use magic out in the open—especially not in a place this crowded. That would cause a scene.
So Al let out a resigned breath and moved.
He crouched down, lifted the heavy drain cover with pure physical strength, then squeezed himself halfway inside.
It wasn't easy—the kitten seemed terrified of humans and kept struggling—but after a bit of effort, he finally managed to grab it.
A tiny, trembling kitten.
Dirty. Soaked. Freezing.
A few people nearby watched what he was doing and shook their heads.
"What's the point of messing with a stray like that? Just asking for trouble," someone muttered.
"Maybe he's just a good kid… but way too naïve for this world," another replied with a small chuckle.
"Or maybe he's one of those youngsters with nothing better to do. Pretending to rescue animals."
"Worse, maybe he's filming some fake rescue content. After the video's done, the animal gets dumped again. Though… I guess not all of them are like that."
Murmurs spread around him. A few pedestrians threw in their comments before walking off as if nothing had happened.
Al didn't care. He stayed focused on the struggling kitten in his arms.
Filthy water splashed onto his uniform, soaking several spots—his sleeves, his chest, even his face. Sewer grime smeared across his skin, and that unmistakable stench clung to him instantly.
Ugh… this is exactly why I hate this passive magical barrier. It can detect lethal threats and activate on its own—but this kind of thing? Apparently not considered 'harm.'
A few minutes later, he sat down at the edge of the sidewalk.
Using his already-soiled uniform, he gently dried the kitten as best as he could.
His expression looked bored. Slightly indifferent.
Even as passersby shot him strange, disgusted looks.
"They're good people, really," he said softly.
It sounded like he was comforting the kitten—
But in truth, he was trying to soothe his own embarrassment.
Suddenly, a soft voice spoke behind him.
"You're a kind one, aren't you?"
Al turned.
A young woman was standing there, smiling warmly.
She looked about twenty-ish, with long brown hair tied in an elegant braid, wearing a stylish blazer. Her beauty was the classy, cover-model type—undeniably A-tier.
"It's rare these days to see someone willing to get that dirty just to help a small animal," she said, clearly impressed.
Al stayed silent, still drying the kitten—and subtly infusing it with a bit of healing energy.
A faint crimson flicker flashed across Al's eyes as he observed the woman before him—just long enough to catch something unusual.
The woman's information appeared in his mind.
[Name : Clara Eliga]
[Race : Human]
[Sex : Female
]
[Age : 22 years (human)
]
[Primary Energies (human) :
Entra : 624 (Novice)
Vita : 121 (Novice)
Arma : 7 (Novice)
]
[Secondary Energies (human) : Elemental (Wind), xxx
]
[Other Parameters: ——]
A magic user with wind-element affinity. Fairly common. Entra-dominant, Novice level. Not bad, Al assessed inwardly.
Before he could take a closer look, the woman suddenly spoke up.
"Oii, why are you staring at me like that, Huh?." Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Oh right, my name's Clara. And you are?"
Al blinked, rubbing his forehead lightly.
"Ah, that. I just thought you looked familiar. I'm Al."
"Oh, really? I thought you were mesmerized by me or something," Clara teased with a playful grin.
"Uh, sis… I'm seventeen. I'm not really at the age to be discussing things like that," Al sighed.
Clara tilted her head, finally taking a good look at him—black hoodie, gray pants, and a white shirt in hand. Yeah, definitely still a high schooler.
"Oh shoot, haha! Sorry, sorry. Big sis was just kidding." She scratched her cheek awkwardly.
Al only sighed, ignoring the awkward exchange, before holding out the kitten in his arms.
"Anyway… consider this my forgiveness fee. Can you take it to a pet care center? I'm kind of in a hurry," he said casually.
Clara blinked, realizing he'd just turned her slip-up into a task—but it wasn't exactly unreasonable.
"Sure, I can. But… what's the rush?" she asked curiously.
"Hm… how should I explain this…" Al pondered for a second, then snapped his fingers.
"Oh! I'm from a rich family. Rich kids get in trouble if they come home late."
Clara stepped back slightly, giving him a look from head to toe. His face was smudged, his clothes dirty, and he smelled faintly like a sewer.
Then she burst into laughter. "Hahaha! You're calling yourself a rich kid looking like that?"
Al frowned. "Do I look poor to you?"
Clara shook her head while taking the kitten from his hands.
"Haha, no, no. Sorry about that. Oh, and since I'm heading out anyway, why don't I drop you off? I can take the kitten to the pet center on the way. Where do you live?"
It was a reasonable offer—but Al politely declined. He'd rather find a quiet place to clean himself first.
And though he knew Clara had magical energy, he had no intention of revealing that.
"Ah… no need, sis. I'm dirty anyway," he said politely, already getting up to leave.
But before he could make his escape—
Clara grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward her car.
"It's fine. Just come along." She said it with a strange smile.
But honestly, she hesitated for a second—the smell coming off him wasn't exactly pleasant.
Still, there was something in the boy's eyes. Something sincere. Something that made it impossible for her to just leave him behind like that.
She could only smile awkwardly at her own impulsive behavior.
Al, however, saw it differently.
Even with all his power, he wasn't some kind of god who could read people's hearts or know their true intentions—especially not someone he had just met.
Clara's action was more than enough to put him on guard.
Instinctively, he tried to pull his hand back.
"Sis! I'm still a minor, okay?! Please don't—" he said in a deliberately ambiguous tone.
He only meant it as an excuse to get out of the situation, but the people nearby heard it loud and clear—and instantly turned to look.
Clara froze, completely not expecting her good intentions to be twisted like that. She quickly let go of his hand and raised both of hers in surrender.
"No, no, don't think like that! I just wanted to help you, Al!" she said in a panic.
A few people around them began whispering, some even looking ready to step in.
Clara's elegant appearance versus Al's muddy state made for a confusing picture.
To some people, it looked like an attempted kidnapping. Others, however, thought Al was the one trying to scam Clara, judging by his shabby appearance.
But in the end, Al still looked like a school kid—and that alone was enough to tilt most of the sympathy toward him.
Both Al and Clara realized the situation was about to spiral into something very troublesome.
Feeling a little sorry for her, Al decided to step in—but not before making sure she wasn't dangerous.
His eyes faintly glowed as he activated his Dimensional Eye, scanning her aura.
It was a technique he had unintentionally developed after doing this to enough people before—especially those who had already awakened their magical flow.
Abnormal fluctuations in the energy around the brain were usually a clear sign of malicious intent.
Fortunately, that wasn't the case with Clara. The only disturbance he detected was a brief tremor around her heart—most likely from panic.
Other than that, her energy was predominantly calm—steady and clean. Not much ripple, no distortion. From that alone, Al could draw one conclusion.
She was honest.
No ill intent.
But something else caught his attention when he sensed that earlier vibration in her chest.
Amid the natural flow of energy inside her, there was a small, glowing green core—resting right at the center of her heart.
What is that? I've never seen something like it before.
And after trying to identify it, unfortunately, it became one more thing his current Dimensional Eye couldn't read.
Another? he wondered in frustration.
Hmph… I really need to perfect this eye soon. The further I go, the more things this fragment fails to properly identify.
Still, with people watching, he didn't have the luxury of staying lost in his thoughts. So he decided to smooth things over.
He laughed lightly, waving his hands. "Sorry, sorry! We're siblings, just fooling around! haha."
Clara quickly caught on and nodded, awkwardly playing along. "Haha. Yes, yes."
The onlookers eventually dispersed—some seemed to understand the situation, while others looked disappointed that there was no drama to enjoy after all.
Meanwhile, Al and Clara both let out sighs of relief as they got into the car.
"You really almost got us into trouble," Clara muttered.
"Well, you're the one who suddenly grabbed me. Sorry, sis," Al replied casually.
Clara exhaled and motioned to her driver to start the car.
The vehicle rolled forward, leaving behind the small crowd and the awkward misunderstanding.
---
Inside the car, Al sat beside Clara, doing his best to avoid eye contact.
For a brief second, he considered casting a cleansing spell—but with her sitting this close, he quickly dismissed the idea.
The air inside was thick with silence and mild awkwardness. Both of them were still recovering from almost becoming the headline gossip of the day.
Then Clara finally snapped back to reality—and caught a whiff of the unpleasant smell coming from Al. Even though it had dried, the odor still lingered faintly.
Without saying anything, she quickly handed him a pack of tissues.
But then her eyes landed on the school logo printed on his uniform—the one he was currently using to support the little kitten in his arms.
It was the emblem of Hazandeen International High School.
"Wait… Al. Are you from HIHS?" she asked, a hint of excitement slipping into her voice.
Al, who was busy wiping off the dried splashes from his clothes, followed her gaze down to his uniform and then nodded.
"Yup."
"Seriously?" Clara still looked slightly suspicious at first. But after taking a closer look at the logo, she had no reason to doubt it.
And somehow, that made her smile.
"What a coincidence," she said, her eyes lighting up.
"A coincidence?" Al asked.
Clara nodded enthusiastically. "I'm actually an HIHS alumna. Graduated four years ago. Turns out you're my junior, haha." There was a hint of pride in her tone.
And just like that, light nostalgia filled the rest of the ride. Clara chatted about her memories at school and asked about its current condition, which Al answered to the best of his ability.
Al listened to all the trivial stories, secretly hoping she might casually mention something about that strange green core inside her chest.
Unfortunately, nothing of the sort came up.
Meanwhile, Clara was starting to realize something.
Even though Al's enrollment had nothing to do with his family's wealth, the chances of this dirt-smudged kid coming from a wealthy family were actually quite high.
After all, he attended HIHS.
As an alumna, how did I forget that HIHS is ridiculously expensive? Does that mean this kid is actually rich?
Before she could respond—
The car eventually entered a luxurious residential district—the Virellano family estate.
Clara's eyes widened as she looked out the window, stunned by the area they were driving into.
Wait… isn't this the Virellano estate? Why is Al here? Don't tell me when he said he was rich, he meant he's a Virellano?
But... Isn't their son named David Virellano… is Al lying?
But why would he lie? Maybe he's a servant's kid? But… that uniform is from Hazandeen Academy. Could he be adopted? Hmph…
Her thoughts spiraled rapidly, suspicion mixing with disbelief.
She had just begun reconsidering Al's claim about being rich—but the Virellano family? That was on an entirely different level. It made her mind churn even more.
Meanwhile, Al wasn't thinking that deeply about it. From their entire conversation, he hadn't gained any particularly important information about Clara.
Still, making a new connection like her wasn't bad at all. Whatever secrets she had, he could uncover them later.
He shook his head and focused on the road ahead.
"That gate up ahead, Sir," he said, pointing toward the large front gate.
Clara, whose thoughts were still in turmoil, stared at him silently.
The sleek black car rolled to a slow stop before the grand, European-style entrance.
Al stepped out first, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, giving her a small nod.
"Thanks, Sis Clara."
Clara leaned forward from the window, still smiling.
"Go on in first. Then I'll leave."
Al raised an eyebrow.
"Huh? Why? You can go ahead."
"I just want to make sure you get in safe. I'm older than you, so it's only natural for me to check," Clara answered gently,
Al grinned stiffly.
"Sorry, but it feels rude to leave a guest waiting at the gate. Let's be fair—I'll wait for you to go first."
And so, a light standoff began.
"But—"
"But you see—"
"Go inside."
"You leave first."
"Go in."
"Meowww."
"....."
The two went back and forth. Clara was half-irritated, Al was half-lazy.
At last—
"Huff, fine! I'll go in!" Al huffed, half-frustrated.
He trudged slowly down the stone path cutting through the beautiful garden toward the main Virellano house. But the whole time, he kept glancing back.
Every few steps, he turned and waved—awkward and stiff. Like a kindergartener being dropped off at school.
Clara smiled. Then chuckled softly to herself, nodding in quiet amusement as she confirmed the truth.
"He really does live here… wow, so I was wrong all along. I guess I need to sharpen my judgment skills," she whispered.
She glanced at him, giving a small wave, and muttered to herself,
"Anyway… I don't know what his connection to the Virellano family is… but one thing's for sure—he's an interesting kid."
Her car slowly rolled away from the gate.
Little did Al know...
The final step he took that day would mark the beginning of a brand new chaos.
---