My F-Rank Sagea is Secretly an EX-Rank Calamity

Chapter 19: The Cabal of the Sunless Eye

Deep within the frozen, jagged peaks of the Bleakstone Maw, far beyond the city’s protective barriers, the air hummed with a forbidden, suffocating mana.

Hidden inside the heart of the mountainside, the high-ranking members of the Cabal of the Sunless Eye knelt before a massive, cracked monolith. The air was dead silent, save for the rhythmic, dark chanting echoing off the cavern walls.

CRACK!

With a final, shattering echo, the ancient seal fractured into dust. The legendary Sagea Masters’ greatest adversary was free.

Lucian Morgaunt opened his eyes to the mortal world for the first time in millennia. His five elite Cadres knelt before him, heads lowered, and behind them stood an entire army of faceless Acolytes, waiting for his command.

He was a man who commanded immediate terror without uttering a single word. Too powerful to be defeated by a single attack in the old world, it had taken the ultimate sacrifice of the first Sagea masters to tame and seal him away. But today, that cage was gone.

Morgaunt stepped out of the ruins of the monolith, his pristine robes woven from a rare, shimmering dark silk rustling softly.

His appearance screamed royal authority, but his sinister nature was unmistakable; the dark fabric seemed to actively absorb the ambient light, casting long, unnatural shadows at his feet.

"Welcome back, my lord," the Cabal spoke with a single, unified voice.

"Arise," Morgaunt replied, his voice laced with a dangerous trace of mischief and steady, ancient wisdom.

The Cabal arose silently.

"We have secured the Grim Prodigy for you, my lord. It stands ready to be released at your command," a female voice broke the silence.

It was Vanya Vex, the blonde vanguard. Sharp, cold, and utterly lethal, she wore form-fitting dark leather armour beneath her robes.

Beneath her quiet exterior rested an SS-Rank Sagea born for predatory stealth - Nyx’s Stalker. A massive, sleek panther forged from liquid shadow with eyes that burned like molten gold, it could sink seamlessly into the floor, catching any opponent off guard.

Morgaunt nodded slowly. He scanned the ranks of the elite Cadres before a chilling grin spread across his face.

"The five of you have done very well," Morgaunt praised.

In a flash of dark mana, Morgaunt teleported outside the cavern, stepping onto a jagged mountain ledge to scan the vast, frozen horizon. The Cadres followed instantly, appearing a respectful distance behind their master.

They were the Elite Five, a collection of monsters who each possessed world-shaking SS-Ranked and EX-Ranked Calamity Sageas.

Standing right behind Vanya was Lyra Daymes, the silver-haired mystic. Lyra was Morgaunt’s right hand in spell craft, possessing the Prismatic Nyx - a beautiful but terrifying multi-winged arachnid creature made of starlight and crystalline glass.

Wielding high-tier spatial and illusion magic, Lyra was the sole reason the Cabal had operated entirely unseen by the High Council for years.

Next to her stood the black-haired twins, Damon and Malix Ross - an unstoppable duo on the battlefield.

Damon, the older twin, carried a pale, striking appearance with an angular jawline and intense, dark eyes that never seemed to blink.

He was the anchor, commanding the Obsidian Basilisk. The massive, armoured serpent could petrify entire battalions or dry up an opponent’s mana circulation with a single, sweeping gaze.

Malix followed perfectly in his shadow, though he couldn’t be more different in temperament.

He wore a permanent, mocking, lopsided smirk, his body radiating a restless, predatory energy as he constantly shifted his weight and played with a hidden blade.

Arrogant, sadistic, and wildly expressive, Malix commanded the Iron Drake - a stone-skinned, winged gargoyle beast meant to dive-bomb and shatter the petrified enemies Damon locked down.

These four were unbelievably powerful, deeply feared, and bound to Morgaunt by absolute loyalty.

However, standing at the edge of the group was the lone exception. The anomaly. The ultimate weapon.

Soren Dax.

"Well, it seems you’re finally out of your misery. Took you long enough," Soren said, his expression completely unbothered by the overwhelming pressure radiating from Morgaunt.

Standing six feet tall, Soren possessed a strikingly refined, masculine appearance. His sharp features and wild, fiery hair bore an uncanny resemblance to Asher’s, but moulded with a supreme, terrifying confidence.

Soren was the Cabal’s most prized asset - and their greatest potential threat.

By their own bloodline claims, Soren was the chosen descendant of the first legendary male Sagea Master, Aethelgard Caelum.

Millennia ago, Aethelgard had been one with the celestial force of Ignifax, fighting alongside his partner, Isolde Asteria, who commanded an equally devastating EX-Rank Calamity Salamander Sagea.

Soren inherited that exact, merciless lineage.

He was the type of monster who never held back his words, let alone his skills. Behind Soren’s shadow, the air distorted as a colossal, four-winged dragon covered in slag-iron scales manifested. This was Ignis Vermithrax - an Ancient Dread-Wyrm.

Instead of burning with normal fire, the beast breathed a suffocating, pressurised white-hot plasma capable of melting mountain peaks to slag.

It was entirely immune to standard magical attacks, held absolute command over lesser reptilian beasts, and emitted a passive "Dragon’s Pressure" that forced lower-ranking Sageas to cower in instinctive terror.

A living weapon. Rebellious and merciless.

"I can see that you still lack manners, Soren," Morgaunt said. His voice dropped to a low, ominous rumble as he approached the young boy, locking him in a menacing glare.

Soren didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped forward, matching Morgaunt’s energy note for note.

In an instant, the atmospheric pressure plummeted. Their competing mana pools flooded the mountain air - boisterous, suffocatingly heavy, and dripping with malicious intent.

The sky darkened as the ancient sovereign’s dark magic clashed against the oppressive, white-hot gravity of Soren’s dragon. Farther back in the cave mouth, the faceless Acolytes dropped to their knees, trembling violently under the sheer weight of the two tyrants.

"We have far better things to do, my lord," Lyra chimed in smoothly, stepping directly between the two forces before the magical friction could tear the peak apart.

With a reluctant, burning glare, both men stepped back, granting each other space. They suppressed their visible mana outputs, allowing the trembling Acolytes to finally breathe.

In one swift, fluid motion, Lyra raised her hand and summoned the Prismatic Nyx. The multi-winged glass arachnid crystallised in the air, its limbs spinning threads of pure starlight that sliced through reality, tearing open a swirling spatial rift, directly to the hidden location of the Grim Prodigy.

"After you, my lord," Lyra said, her head bowed respectfully.

Morgaunt shot Soren a cold, mocking smirk. "At least learn a thing or two from her, boy. Never forget, you remain under me."

With that final jab, Morgaunt swept his dark robes and stepped through the rift.

Fuming with rage, Soren’s knuckles turned white. He reached for his blade, ready to charge into the portal and retaliate, when a heavy, immovable hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Just let it be. For now," Damon suggested, his pale face an unreadable mask of absolute calm.

The other Cadres gave Soren a firm, warning nod. They all knew the terrifying reality: if an unrestricted war broke out between Valerius Morgaunt and Soren Dax, the continent would cease to exist.

Through tightly gritted teeth, Soren forced the fiery mana back into his veins. "Fine," he muttered.

He stepped into the shimmering spatial rift, his chest burning with a silent, chaotic fury.

As he walked a few paces behind Morgaunt, Soren’s dark, venomous smirk slowly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

’Enjoy your fleeting freedom, old man,’ Soren thought to himself, his eyes locking onto the back of the sovereign’s head. ’Because the second this is over... I’m going to tear you from your throne personally.’