Morning sun bled crimson through the high windows of the Iron Crucible — the underground training hall every serious hunter in Crimson Reach called home.
The air was thick with sweat, steel, and raw masculine energy. Dozens of hunters moved like beasts in a den. Muscular frames glistening, lean killers flowing through forms, broad-shouldered warriors roaring through reps. No machines. No polished weights. Only chains, stone slabs, iron bars, and their own bodies pushed to breaking.
In one corner, a group of women with scarred arms were slamming weighted war hammers into thick wooden posts, each strike sending splinters flying. Nearby, a beastman with furred shoulders was doing one-armed handstand push-ups while balancing a boulder on his back.
And in the center of it all stood Indura.
Shirtless, crimson hair tied back, golden eyes bright with pure enjoyment. Heavy iron chains wrapped around his torso and legs — each link thicker than a man's wrist. He hung from a reinforced bar with one hand, body perfectly straight, and pulled himself up again.
"Four thousand two hundred!" someone shouted.
The hall erupted.
"Come on, pretty boy! Break the record!"
"You're not even breathing hard? What the hell are you made of?!"
Indura grinned as he pulled up for the four-thousand-three-hundredth time, smooth and controlled. No strain on his face. Just deep, genuine pleasure.
This feels good, he thought, muscles singing with power instead of pain. Human bodies train like this? I could do this all day.
A lean female hunter with braided silver hair slammed her fist on a barrel. "That's a real man right there! Keep going, red-hair!"
Another burly hunter laughed loudly. "If I tried that with half the weight, my arm would snap off!"
Shadow leaned against a stone pillar a short distance away, arms crossed, a rare amused smirk on his face. He watched Indura with quiet pride, occasionally glancing at the cheering crowd.
Indura dropped down after the five-thousandth pull-up, chains clanking heavily as they hit the floor. Sweat glistened on his toned frame, but his breathing stayed perfectly even. He rolled his shoulders once, then walked over to a massive iron log resting on two stone blocks.
Without hesitation, he grabbed it with both hands and began doing clean-and-presses — lifting the log overhead and lowering it with perfect form. Each rep made the ground tremble slightly.
The crowd went wild again.
"Six hundred!" a voice roared.
A group of younger hunters started chanting. "Red hair! Red hair! Red hair!"
Indura laughed under his breath, golden eyes shining. They call this training? It's more like playing. He switched to one-handed presses without breaking rhythm, enjoying the burn that never quite became pain.
Shadow finally pushed off the pillar and walked over, tossing him a towel. "You're enjoying yourself far too much, sir."
Indura caught the towel and wiped his face, still grinning. "It's fun. These humans push their limits like it's a game. I like it."
A broad-shouldered hunter with a missing eye clapped Indura on the back — hard enough that it would have shattered a normal man's shoulder. "You're a monster. Never seen anyone treat weighted chains like toys."
Indura just smiled. "Feels light."
The hall filled with laughter and more cheers.
After another twenty minutes of brutal, inventive workouts that left everyone speechless, Indura finally stopped. His body glistened with sweat, but his eyes were brighter than when they started.
He rolled his neck once. "Enough playing. I feel like going all out today."
Shadow raised an eyebrow. "All out?"
Indura's grin turned sharper. "Yes. I want a real challenge. Let's go collect a proper contract."
They left the Iron Crucible to loud cheers and slaps on the back, the hunters still buzzing about the red-haired newcomer who treated their hardest training like a warm-up. A few remained back, clearly frustrated or jealous of the new talent.
The streets were busy as they made their way toward the Hunters Guild. Indura walked with relaxed confidence, hands behind his back again, while Shadow kept pace beside him.
Halfway there, they passed a street vendor selling grilled spirit meat skewers. The smell hit hard.
Indura paused. "Hungry?"
Shadow chuckled. "You just trained for two hours straight, and you're already thinking about food?"
"Training makes the stomach honest," Indura replied, already walking toward the stall.
They bought a massive pile of skewers and ate while walking, Indura devouring them with obvious satisfaction. Between bites he spoke casually.
"I want something difficult today. Something that might actually make me try."
Shadow wiped sauce from his lip. "Then you'll be happy to hear the rumors spreading this morning. There's a new high-value contract posted. Dangerous. Mysterious."
Indura's golden eyes gleamed with interest. "Good."
They finished the last skewer just as they reached the wide stone steps of the Hunters Guild.
Veyron Kaelthar was standing at the top, arms folded, as if he had been waiting for them.
The guild master's eyes locked onto Indura immediately. A small, calculating smile formed on his face.
"Indura," Veyron called out, voice carrying down the steps. "Perfect timing. I was hoping to speak with you."
Indura stopped at the bottom of the stairs, head tilted slightly.
Shadow stayed quiet, watching.
The morning sun continued to rise, turning the guild's banners blood-red.
The Hunters Guild buzzed with its usual morning chaos, but the moment Indura and Shadow stepped into Veyron Kaelthar's private office on the upper floor, the noise outside seemed to vanish behind the heavy oak door.
Veyron stood from behind his desk with a welcoming nod. "Please, have a seat."
Indura walked in calmly and dropped into the offered chair, leaning back with one elbow resting on the armrest. Shadow remained standing just behind him, hands clasped in front, silent and respectful.
Veyron didn't comment on it. He simply poured steaming herbal tea into two fine cups and slid one toward each of them.
Indura picked up his cup and drank the entire thing in one slow, continuous gulp, even though the tea was scalding hot. Not a flinch. Not a single pause.
Veyron's eyes widened slightly. That was boiling… He let out a soft, surprised chuckle as he settled back into his own chair.
"Most men would have burned their tongue," he said, amusement clear in his voice. "You continue to surprise me, Indura."
Indura set the empty cup down and rested his cheek against his palm, looking relaxed. Here we go again, he thought.
Veyron leaned forward, folding his hands. "Hunters wake up every day and throw themselves into dungeons. They fight for coin, for glory, for survival. They bring back cores, materials, and stories… but very few ever stop to see the bigger picture. The south has been restless lately. Old things are stirring. Things that don't care about ranks or gold."
Shadow raised a hand politely, cutting in before Veyron could continue circling.
"With respect, Guild Master… please don't beat around the bush. I believe there is a reason you wanted to see us specifically."
Veyron chuckled again, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. My apologies." He straightened. "Straight to the point, then. There's a sealed ruin in the southern lands called the Hollow Sanctum. It's no ordinary dungeon. It's an ancient temple, half-buried in black stone, older than any recorded history in this region. The walls shift. The runes move when unobserved. Some say the place itself breathes."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"It sits dangerously close to the Bloodveil Dominion — the territory of the vampires. Those beings… they are not the savage blood-drinkers most stories paint. They are elegant, ancient, and coldly detached. They view the rest of us as fleeting mayflies. They rarely involve themselves in outside matters, but if something disturbs their eternal peace, they respond with terrifying precision."
Shadow's expression turned noticeably colder. His eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of vampires.
Veyron noticed but continued smoothly. "Lady Phoenix herself has taken personal interest. The Sanctum has been sealed for centuries, yet recently the barriers have begun to weaken. No team has made it past the outer wards. Even high-ranking knights are hesitant. Whatever is sleeping inside… It's not meant for ordinary hunters."
A brief silence fell.
Indura sat up straighter, golden eyes gleaming with quiet interest. New species… vampires. Elegant and dangerous. I wonder what they look like. This world keeps getting more interesting.
Shadow remained perfectly still behind him, but his mind raced. If those blood nobles somehow offend him… it could be the end of their entire dominion. I hope they have the sense to stay quiet.
Indura rested his chin on his hand again, thoughtful. What could be sealed in there that even the ruler of this city wants eyes on it?
Veyron leaned back, watching them carefully, silently hoping.
Indura let out a small sigh, then smiled. "So… you want us to go take a look inside this Hollow Sanctum? Is this going to be another hunt?"
Veyron looked momentarily surprised by the directness, then nodded. "Similar to a hunt, but not quite. We don't know what truly lies within. Your task would be exploration and reporting back. Gather information. See what the place is hiding."
Shadow glanced down at Indura, waiting.
Indura chuckled softly. "Well… that sounds worth my time. I'll go."
Veyron let out a visible sigh of relief. "I'll admit, I was worried you might refuse."
Indura laughed lightly. "How could I miss an opportunity like this?"
Shadow allowed himself a small, respectful smile. It is decided, then.
Right then, a firm knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," Veyron called.
The door opened and Elara Voss stepped inside — the silver-haired Slayer from earlier. The moment she entered, the atmosphere in the room grew noticeably heavier. She kept her eyes lowered, unable to look directly at Indura or Shadow.
Veyron gestured toward her. "This is Elara Voss, one of our most reliable veteran Slayers. If you accept the request, she will accompany you. Her role is strictly observational — she will record findings, map the outer layers, and report back. She will not interfere with your methods."
Elara stood stiffly beside Veyron's desk, clearly uncomfortable. She could feel the weight of their presence pressing on her like invisible hands.
Shadow looked at her with cold, evaluating eyes. She will only slow us down.
Indura turned his golden gaze on her. Elara felt it like a physical touch — sharp, heavy, and far too intense. A sharp pain twisted in her stomach. These two… they're monsters.
Veyron noticed the tension and spoke quickly. "Elara is highly competent. She won't slow you down. She's far more than an ordinary Slayer."
Indura stood up smoothly. "Very well then. We'll leave right away. Waiting will only irritate the mind."
Veyron rose as well, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you for accepting this request. I will make sure the reward is more than generous once you return."
Shadow moved to the door first, opening it respectfully for Indura. Once Indura had passed through, Shadow followed and closed the door behind them without another word.
The office fell into heavy silence.
Elara stumbled forward and caught herself on the back of a chair, exhaling shakily. "I… I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. Guild Master… what are those two?"
Veyron laughed softly, though his eyes remained serious. "That is exactly why I need them. Their presence alone is a mystery… and sometimes mysteries are the only things that can unlock new realities."
Elara sat down heavily, still trying to steady her breathing. "I'll try not to get on their bad side. I don't know much about that Indura… but the Midnight Slayer already feels… different."
Veyron looked out the window, his expression thoughtful. "You probably don't realize it yet, but you should be far more careful around the Midnight Slayer than Indura."
Elara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Veyron turned back to her. "The Midnight Slayer only appears to be a Slayer when people are watching. Even I find him strange. His presence is there and not there at the same time… like a real shadow. No one truly knows the extent of his abilities. I suspect he is not a Slayer at all. He could very well be on par with a Knight, or above."
Elara stood up abruptly. "That's nonsense."
Veyron chuckled. "Don't get worked up. Just don't get in his way. It's already unusual that he's traveling and talking with someone. There's something special about that new hunter… I can almost feel it."
Elara stayed quiet for a moment, then muttered, "He's only a Slayer…"
Veyron smiled faintly and looked back out the window.
"You'll be alright."
By midday, the three of them had already left Crimson Reach behind.
Indura rode at the front on a powerful black stallion Shadow had secured from the guild stables. The horse moved with surprising steadiness under him, as if it instinctively understood it was carrying something far beyond an ordinary rider. Shadow rode just behind on a dark grey mount, while Elara followed on a lighter chestnut mare, keeping a respectful distance.
The road south was wide at first, paved with worn stone, but it gradually narrowed as they left civilized lands. Fields gave way to rolling hills, then to thickening woodland. The air grew heavier, carrying the scent of damp earth and old pine.
For the first few hours, no one spoke much.
Elara kept her eyes on the road, occasionally glancing at the two figures ahead. Every time she looked at Indura's back, that same uneasy pressure returned to her chest. She gripped the reins tighter.
Shadow broke the silence first, his voice low enough that only Indura could hear clearly.
"The Hollow Sanctum lies deeper than most maps show. We'll reach the outer forest by nightfall if we keep this pace. After that, it's better to proceed on foot. The trees there… they don't like horses."
Indura nodded once, golden eyes scanning the horizon. "Good. I prefer walking anyway."
Elara cleared her throat from behind. "The guild has records of teams vanishing the moment they entered the mist line around the Sanctum. Some say the forest itself moves. Others claim the trees whisper your regrets until you walk straight into traps."
Shadow didn't turn around. "Then we'll make sure not to listen."
Indura let out a soft laugh. "Whispering trees? This journey keeps getting better."
As the sun began to dip, the road ended completely. They left the horses at a small, hidden waystation used by high-rank hunters — a simple wooden shelter guarded by two silent ward stones. From there, they continued on foot into the thickening forest.
The trees here were ancient, their trunks wider than three men standing shoulder to shoulder. Moss hung like curtains, and faint blue luminescent fungi glowed along the bark. The canopy blocked most of the red sky, turning the world into a dim, emerald twilight even though it was still afternoon.
Indura walked with relaxed confidence, hands behind his back. Shadow moved like liquid shadow beside him, steps silent. Elara followed carefully, her hand never far from the dagger at her hip.
At one point, the path narrowed to almost nothing. A thick mist began to rise from the ground, cool and clinging.
Elara's voice came quiet. "This is the outer barrier. Once we cross the mist line, normal senses become unreliable. Stay close."
Indura tilted his head, listening. "I hear water… and something breathing."
Shadow's eyes narrowed. "The forest is alive. Not metaphorically."
They pressed on.
Hours passed. The trees grew taller, their branches twisting in unnatural patterns. Occasionally, faint voices seemed to drift on the wind — fragments of conversations, laughter, screams — none of them belonging to the three travelers.
Elara shivered. "Ignore them. That's how it starts."
Indura simply smiled. "They sound lonely."
As evening truly fell, they reached a small clearing surrounded by particularly massive trees. The ground here was softer, covered in thick moss that glowed faintly silver.
Indura stopped. "We'll rest here for the night. Pushing further in the dark would be foolish… even for me."
Shadow nodded and began setting up a simple camp — no fire, just a few wards drawn in the dirt with dark energy. Elara helped silently, though her hands shook slightly whenever she glanced at Indura.
As they sat, Indura leaned against a tree trunk, looking up at the canopy where faint red sky peeked through.
"This place feels… old," he said quietly. "Older than Varta. I can almost taste it in the air."
Shadow sat cross-legged nearby, voice respectful. "The Hollow Sanctum is said to predate even the Calamities. Whatever sleeps inside has been waiting a very long time."
Elara stared into the mist. "And the vampires… they watch this border constantly. If we disturb something they consider theirs…"
Indura's golden eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Then we'll see how elegant they really are."
A long silence followed, broken only by the distant, unnatural whispers of the forest.
Shadow watched Indura for a moment, thinking to himself, He's excited. Not cautious. Not even slightly worried. A small, uneasy smile touched his lips.
The night deepened around them.
Indura closed his eyes and leaned back against the massive tree trunk, arms crossed over his chest. His breathing slowed into a steady rhythm, as if he had simply decided to rest.
Shadow remained standing, back straight, eyes scanning the thick forest around their small silver-moss clearing. The whispers of the trees had grown quieter, but the silence felt heavier now.
They already know we're here, Shadow thought, gaze drifting up through the canopy. The vampires… their eyes are never truly closed.
Suddenly, his body went completely still.
Fifty miles away, perched high on the trunk of an ancient black-barked tree, a dark silhouette watched them in perfect silence. Only two narrow, glowing red eyes pierced the shade. The figure smiled slowly, revealing a flash of sharp, elegant fangs.
It studied the travelers for a long moment, its gaze eventually settling on Shadow.
Shadow's eyes moved fast, sweeping every direction with unnatural precision. Then they locked onto something far in the distance — a figure that clearly believed it was hidden.
The vampire's red eyes widened in genuine shock. Can he see me? it whispered to itself. No… impossible. A human noticing me from this distance?
It chuckled softly, the sound barely a breath. He almost made me worry. There's no way...
Silence
Then, Shadow slowly raised his arm and pointed directly at it, and vanished mid step.
The vampire's smirk vanished . Horror flashed across its face.
Huh!...where is he?!
It leaped backward instantly, the motion exposing its form for a brief second in a thin ray of moonlight filtering through the canopy.
It was no savage beast. The vampire was tall and slender, dressed in sleek tactical gear — form-fitting dark leather armor reinforced with blood-red accents, a high collar framing a pale, refined face. Long silver-white hair was tied back neatly, and its features were sharp yet aristocratic, almost beautiful in their cold elegance. No wild hair or ragged clothes — just clean, deadly precision.
There's no way… It's not possible…
Before it could finish the thought, a calm voice spoke from directly behind it.
"You're wrong."
The vampire spun with blinding speed — but it was too late.
A clean slash tore across its chest. The sound was sharp and wet — shhhk! — followed by the heavy crash of its body smashing through multiple thick tree trunks. Wood splintered violently, branches snapped, and leaves rained down as the vampire tumbled backward.
It tried to stand, coughing dark blood. The slash had cut deep, slicing through reinforced leather and flesh alike. I must run… There's a monster in this forest…
Then another voice came from behind it, calm and curious.
"This is an unexpected surprise. Who are you?"
The vampire looked up.
Indura was already hovering above it, golden eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. A dark shade seemed to cling to his silhouette, his presence pressing down like an invisible weight. The vampire trembled violently on the ground, pure terror flooding its refined features.
"W-what… are you…?"
Indura landed down, as Shadow appeared silently beside him. "It seems the vampires already know we are here."
Indura bent down slightly, tilting his head to get a closer look. "So this is a vampire? It looks… too clean. Is this how they actually appear?"
The vampire's eyes were wide with horror. It started begging, voice shaking. "Wait— I was only observing—"
Shadow glanced at Indura. "Do you want it alive?"
Indura considered for a moment, still curious.
Suddenly, a sharp woman's voice cut through the forest.
"Enough."
Both Indura and Shadow turned.
The wounded vampire began to laugh weakly in relief.
Shadow's hand moved like liquid night — a sword formed from pure shadow appeared in his grip. He swung down toward the vampire's neck in one clean motion.
But before the blade could connect, a blood-red circle flared beneath the vampire. It vanished instantly in a swirl of crimson mist.
At the same moment, a spinning sphere of blood and dense mana erupted around Indura alone.
The sphere whipped around him violently, lifting him off the ground in a blur of red.
"Indura!" Shadow shouted, lunging forward.
Elara came crashing through the underbrush, eyes wide with panic. "What's happening—?!"
The blood sphere spun faster, then vanished completely, taking Indura with it.
The forest fell deathly silent.
Shadow stood frozen, sword still drawn, staring at the empty space where Indura had been. Elara skidded to a halt beside him, breathing hard.
"Indura…?" she called out weakly into the whispering trees. "Shadow… what just happened?"
Shadow didn't answer immediately. His eyes were cold and sharp, scanning the area where the blood circle had appeared. The mist seemed thicker now. The trees whispered louder, as if laughing.
Meanwhile…
A quiet, mist-filled wasteland stretched under the blood-red skies. Nothing but endless pale fog and jagged black rock.
A single spinning sphere of blood and mana suddenly materialized, then dissolved into red mist.
Indura landed lightly on his feet, looking around.
The air was cold. His breath came out as visible steam.
In the distance, rising from the mist like a crown of darkness, stood an enormous castle.
It was colossal — towering spires of obsidian and crimson stone reaching toward the red sky, bridges of carved bone connecting massive halls, and walls that seemed to pulse faintly with inner light. Gothic arches framed windows of stained glass depicting ancient battles and elegant figures. The entire structure felt alive, ancient, and impossibly grand, like something carved from the night itself.
Indura's golden eyes glowed brighter with faint mana. A small, excited chuckle escaped him as steam rose from his lips.
"Well this...this is worth the trip."
He stood alone in the wasteland, staring at the castle with calm curiosity, completely unfazed.