*****
The dimly lit room smelled of old wood and cigar smoke.
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, distorting the figures of the two men standing at the center.
Azrael, dressed in a sharp black coat, exuded an aura of cold authority.
His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, locked onto the man before him—Valco.
Valco, a middle-aged man with dark-shaded hair and a tall, lean body, stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
But there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty?
Fear?
He masked it well.
Azrael’s voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a storm.
"Valco… I want to asked you something?"
Valco raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance.
"Tch. That’s my line, Azrael. What brings you here with such an intense look? Trouble?"
Azrael didn’t blink.
"I’ve trusted you… We’ve worked together for years. But this time…"
His voice trailed off, his crimson gaze burning into Valco’s soul.
Valco tensed.
"What do you mean?"
A heavy silence settled between them.
The kind that carried unspoken accusations.
Azrael took a slow step forward, his boots clicking against the floor.
"Don’t act like you don’t know,"
He said, his tone colder now.
Valco’s brow furrowed, but his voice remained steady.
"What? What do you mean?"
Azrael’s jaw clenched.
He had known Valco long enough to recognize when the man was bluffing.
His next words cut through the air like a blade.
"Valco… Some of the men I sent to take the artifact from you are missing."
A heavy pause.
"Where are they?"
Valco’s eyes widened for the briefest moment before narrowing into a glare.
"What?!"
He barked.
"How the hell would I know?"
Azrael didn’t react.
He simply watched.
Studied.
A man like Valco didn’t panic unless there was a reason to.
And right now, he was panicking.
Even if he masked it behind anger, Azrael could see the small signs—the tension in his fingers, the slight shift of his stance.
Lies.
Azrael let out a slow breath, stepping closer, his presence suffocating.
"Don’t lie to me, Valco. You know exactly what happened to them."
Valco scoffed.
"You think I’d be stupid enough to cross you? If your men disappeared, it wasn’t my doing."
Azrael’s gaze remained steady, unwavering.
"Then prove it."
Silence.
Valco clenched his fists.
"Damn it, Azrael. You’re making a mistake."
Azrael smirked.
"Am I?"
Another pause.
The weight of the conversation hung between them, heavy and suffocating.
One of them was lying.
And Azrael intended to find out who.
Valco’s hands trembled slightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
His breathing was uneven, and for the first time since their conversation began, his facade of confidence wavered.
He knew there was no way out of this.
"Haa…"
He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.
Then, he straightened himself and looked Azrael in the eye.
"Okay… I’ll tell you the truth."
Azrael remained silent, watching his every move.
Valco turned away and walked toward a locked cabinet in the corner of the dimly lit room.
He pressed a hidden mechanism on the side, and with a soft
Click—!
The cabinet door swung open.
Reaching inside, he pulled out a small circular device—the kind used for recording and replaying holographic footage.
Azrael’s eyes narrowed.
Without another word, Valco placed the circular vid player on the table between them.
He pressed a button at its center.
Click—!
A soft hum filled the room as a blue holographic projection emerged from the device, expanding into a clear video feed.
The grainy footage flickered momentarily before stabilizing, revealing a dark battlefield.
Azrael’s eyes locked onto the scene.
The video showed a group of black-robed men engaged in fierce combat against a lone figure.
The man in the center fought relentlessly, his sword moving like a blur, cutting down enemies left and right.
Azrael’s breath hitched.
He recognized that stance.
That way of fighting.
His crimson eyes darkened as he muttered in a low voice,
"Victor…"
The name lingered in the air, thick with tension.
Victor—the man Azrael long had burried in his memories.
The man who he used to worked with.
And there was he fighting with one of his men.
The very same man who had now vanished without a trace.
As the video played on, Azrael watched as a black-robed which is his men figure attempted to launch a sneak attack on Victor from behind.
But before the strike could land—
Swish—!
A new figure appeared.
A teenager.
He wielded an enormous sword, its blade gleaming ominously under the dim light of the footage.
With a single, fluid motion, he intercepted the attack, effortlessly deflecting the enemy’s blade before countering with a devastating strike.
Azrael’s eyes narrowed as he took in the newcomer’s appearance.
White hair.
Red, deep-crimson eyes.
An aura of raw, unrefined power.
Azrael raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm?"
His gaze flicked toward Valco, who shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
"Who is this kid?"
Azrael asked, his tone sharp.
Valco shook his head.
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"I don’t know either… but I’m still investigating."
Azrael leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping against the table in thought.
"A white-haired boy… with eyes like that?"
He muttered, half to himself. His instincts told him this wasn’t just a random encounter.
The room fell silent as the holographic footage continued to play.
Who was this mysterious swordsman?
And more importantly—
What was his connection to his men’s disappearance?
The holographic video continued playing, and Azrael’s sharp gaze remained locked onto the lone teenager.
The boy moved like a whirlwind, effortlessly deflecting the attacks of Azrael’s men.
Each clash of steel rang through the silent room, the strikes swift and precise.
Yet, despite his overwhelming skill, Azrael could see it—
Fatigue.
The boy’s breathing grew heavier.
His stance wavered ever so slightly.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, and though his sword still cut through the air with deadly precision, it was clear—
He was reaching his limit.
Then, for a moment, he stopped.
His body remained motionless, his crimson eyes dimming as if the weight of exhaustion had finally caught up to him.
The men surrounding him hesitated, staring at the still figure.
And in that instant—
Swish—!
A sharp sound filled the air.
Azrael’s eyes widened as the boy’s figure flickered—his body seemingly dissolving into thin air, leaving behind only a faint, ghostly afterimage.
Then—
Click—!
The sound of steel slicing through flesh echoed from the hologram.
A second later—
Thud—!
The heads of Valco’s men rolled onto the ground, lifeless.
Their bodies remained upright for a split second before collapsing like puppets with their strings cut.
Silence.
Azrael’s expression darkened as he leaned forward, replaying the last moments of the battle in his mind.
His eyes were sharp, his thoughts racing.
What kind of movement was that?
A teleportation skill?
An illusion?
No… there was something unnatural about the way he vanished.
It was almost as if—
He had become one with the shadows.
The holographic feed ended abruptly.
Click—!
The room remained silent.
The faint hum of the vid player faded into the background, leaving only the tension between the two men.
Azrael turned his gaze toward Valco, his expression unreadable.
Valco, who had been watching the video with the same astonishment, finally looked back at him.
There was a silent understanding in his eyes—both of them knew this boy wasn’t ordinary.
Azrael exhaled slowly before speaking.
"You said you were investigating him?"
His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.
Valco swallowed hard.
"Yes. But I haven’t found anything concrete yet. He appeared out of nowhere—there are no records of him, no background, nothing. But his appearance is somewhat matching with the son of that woman"
Azrael leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes glowing slightly under the dim light.
"A white-haired boy with red eyes… skilled enough to kill a group of trained men in an instant?"
He let out a soft chuckle, though there was no humor in it.
"He’s either a ghost or a monster in disguise. And what do you mean by that woman?"
Valco remained silent, unsure of how to respond.
Then,
"His appearance is matching with Lyrium Blackwood, the son of Lilian, of the blackwood estate."
Azrael tapped his fingers against the table.
"Find out who he is,"
He ordered. "Immediately."
Valco nodded stiffly.
"Understood."
But as Azrael stared at the dark screen where the boy’s afterimage had last been seen, he couldn’t shake off the strange feeling creeping up his spine.
This wasn’t just some skilled swordsman.
This boy was dangerous.
*****
Alicia crossed her arms, her sharp gaze fixed on Lyrium, who lay motionless on the cold metallic floor.
The dim glow of the VR device on his head flickered slightly, indicating that he was fully immersed in the virtual world.
His expression was unreadable, his breathing steady, but Alicia knew better than to assume he was at ease.
Behind her, the faint hum of machinery filled the room as multiple monitors displayed real-time footage of the ongoing combat inside the VR simulation.
Twenty students were engaged in fierce battles, their avatars clashing in a dense forest arena, where alliances were being formed and broken within minutes.
A man in a lab coat adjusted his glasses and turned toward Alicia.
"His neural link is stable. Brain activity remains within normal levels, but… his synchronization rate is climbing unusually fast."
Alicia’s eyes flickered with interest.
"How fast?"
The man glanced at the data on his wristband.
"Eighty-four percent. And rising."
Alicia’s brow furrowed.
"Tch. That’s abnormal, even for him."
Most students barely reached sixty percent synchronization with the VR system, even after multiple sessions.
Lyrium, however, was already pushing past eighty—a level that, if exceeded, could put strain on his mind.
She exhaled sharply.
’Just what kind of hellish things have you gone through, Lyrium?’
Her gaze drifted back to the monitors, where the camera zoomed in on the forest terrain.
Lyrium’s avatar was locked in battle with another student—a long-haired boy wielding a blade.
The screen flickered as their swords clashed, sending sparks flying.
"Looks like the real test starts now,"
She muttered under her breath.
*****