Julius, your current level is merely that of an Initiate—a beginner. You wield Shadow Magic, an ancient and elusive power. It is so rare that no documented method exists for mastering it. All that is known is that it grants dominion over darkness. Thus, I cannot guide you on the necessary Breakthrough Rituals specific to Shadow Magic."
Sheath paused, his piercing gaze settling on Julius.
"You also lack a Rank, which is expected. You have yet to comprehend your own power, let alone refine it through proper rituals. However…" Sheath's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I may still be able to assist you."
Julius furrowed his brow. So, to advance from Initiate to Awakened, a ritual is necessary… but no one knows how to perform one due to the scarcity of my magic?
Could this be related to what happened a thousand years ago—to the Six Forgotten Kings?
His thoughts raced back to the monolithic stone he had encountered—a towering slab inscribed with ancient markings. The words engraved upon it had declared his level to be Shadow Watcher, and had revealed an ominous truth:
To break through to the next stage, one must perform the Crimson Ritual under the full moon's light.
Julius's heart pounded. The implications were too great to ignore. Unable to contain his curiosity, he blurted out, "Master Sheath, do you know anything about the Crimson Ritual?"
Sheath's eyes flickered with an almost imperceptible shift in intensity. He remained silent for a moment, as if measuring Julius's words. When he finally spoke, his voice was edged with curiosity. "Where did you hear that term?"
Julius hesitated. He had let his excitement slip too soon.
I can't reveal the stone. Not yet.
"I… came across some scattered writings. They mentioned that a breakthrough ritual exists, but the details were unclear."
Sheath studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Hmph. To think you stumbled upon the name of a ritual tied to a Forgotten Art… How curious."
His fingers tapped against the dust-covered wooden table, sending faint pulses of violet energy through the wood. "Very well. Since you ask, I will enlighten you on what little is known about the Crimson Ritual."
He straightened in his chair, his voice adopting the cadence of a mentor passing down long-lost knowledge.
"The Crimson Ritual is not a mere gathering of energy—it is a ceremonial act that requires specific elements to succeed. It must be performed at a designated location, where the barriers between realms are weak. Furthermore, certain artifacts and materials are mandatory."
Julius leaned in, listening intently.
Sheath raised a single finger. "First, you will need an Ancient Cursed Relic—a most troublesome artifact. However, I will not explain why. You must uncover that on your own."
Julius frowned but did not interrupt.
"Second, you must obtain the Blood of the Crimson Night Wolf—a rare beast whose lifeblood carries the essence of twilight."
"Lastly, you require Nightbound Ropes—threads imbued with the magic of eternal night."
Sheath's gaze darkened. "Only when you have gathered these components will the Crimson Ritual truly begin."
Julius processed the information quickly. "And the full moon… The ritual must be conducted under its light, correct?"
Sheath's expression grew unreadable. His eyes flickered with a shadow of something close to concern. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Yes… and you have only five days before the next full moon. If you fail to complete the ritual by then, you will have to wait for another cycle."
He rose from his seat, dusting off his robe. "That is all I will say on the matter. I have another disciple to attend to—one who is ready for his own Breakthrough Ritual."
Julius watched as Sheath turned toward the far end of the chamber, preparing to leave. But just as he reached the threshold, he paused.
Without looking back, Sheath spoke once more.
"If you dream of something unusual tonight, do not be alarmed."
What will happen? I don't feel like sleeping after hearing his words...
Julius muttered to himself, his mind restless.
His gaze flickered toward the man lying on the ground, an eerie sight—an enormous serpent coiled tightly around his neck, fangs sinking into flesh. Was this... a ritual for advancement?
Julius hesitated but ultimately decided not to interfere. It wasn't his concern.
Coming here had been the right choice. He had learned much—knowledge he had desperately needed. But on the other hand, advancing from "Beginner" to "Awakened" would be far more difficult than he had anticipated. The ritual's requirements were... absurd.
With a deep sigh, he muttered anxiously, "And there's still that damned assassination mission to deal with..."
But first, he needed to leave this room.
Julius moved swiftly, his steps echoing against the ancient stone. The air within the chamber was stifling, thick with dust and the scent of parchment. Strange symbols and esoteric diagrams covered the walls, casting long, ghostly shadows in the dim light. Artifacts of unknown origin lay scattered across the desks—occult tools and books that seemed to hum with latent power.
An unsettling presence lingered, like the whispers of spirits trapped within the cathedral's walls.
As he stepped onto the spiral staircase leading away from Sheith's chamber, he tried to recall the path he needed to take to exit the cathedral.
"Hmm... Shindori said right, then left, I think...?"
With cautious urgency, he turned right.
"I hope I'm right... or I'll be wandering this damned cathedral forever." Julius clenched his jaw, moving forward.
.....
Meanwhile, at the Hall Family Estate, Adrienne stood on her balcony, gazing into the garden below. Moonlight bathed the carefully tended flora in an ethereal glow, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
"My body... feels so light. And I can see strange things..."
She whispered, watching the world with newfound perception.
"I should offer prayers of gratitude to Lord Zarathos for granting my wish—to become a witch."
A soft smile touched her lips as she murmured, "Lord Zarathos is truly benevolent... Even though I lost consciousness during my purification ritual, he left behind a message. His voice still echoes in my mind, guiding me on how to communicate with him, how to pray..."
Her eyes flickered toward a peculiar sight—a bird perched upon one of the garden's trees, its feathers emitting a faint, otherworldly blue glow.
"What is that aura?" she wondered aloud, curiosity stirring within her.
A voice called from behind her.
"My lady, it's best you come inside. The night is cold, and it's already past eleven."
Adrienne chuckled lightly. "You worry too much, Millie."
"Of course I do, my lady. Your body is still fragile. Have you forgotten last year? You wandered the garden on a night just like this and fell ill. You were bedridden for weeks because of the fever and chills."
Millie's voice was laced with concern, her expression stern.
But Adrienne merely smiled. "Things are different now, Millie. I am much stronger than before."
"Stronger?" Millie echoed, puzzled by her words.
Adrienne hesitated for a split second before quickly covering up, "I mean, my health has improved. The medicine my father brought back from Bivona helped a great deal."
She exhaled silently. "Whew... I need to be more careful about what I say around others. But... I can't help it. I've truly become a witch, haven't I?"
Meanwhile, Millie observed her mistress closely. Adrienne's expressions shifted from excitement to unease, from contemplation to joy. She seemed lost in her own world.
"Is she really alright...?" Millie wondered, concern lingering in her gaze.
...
Inside the cathedral, Julius carefully navigated the twisting corridors, choosing his paths with deliberate caution.
Once again, he found himself standing at a fork.
"Damn it... why does it always have to be two paths? Can't there just be one?" he muttered under his breath, exhaling sharply before deciding to take the left route.
Time passed, yet the exit remained elusive.
"Did I... take a wrong turn?" he wondered, furrowing his brows.
Just then, he spotted a figure in the distance—a man standing motionless at the end of the corridor.
Perfect. Someone who could guide me out of here.
Julius quickened his pace, approaching the man with eager steps. But as the distance closed, unease gripped his chest.
Wait... this face... it's familiar.
Brown hair. Blue eyes.
There's no mistake. That's Elias Corvin.
Julius' mind reeled.
Impossible. In my first life, I was reborn as Elias Corvin, but that life ended when the Dark King took my head. That body... it should be long dead. And yet...
He barely had time to process the shock before the man suddenly turned and bolted in the opposite direction.
Shit! He's running!
Julius' heart pounded. He had to confirm the truth—was this merely someone with a similar face, or was something far stranger at play?
The figure veered down a side passage.
"You won't escape me," Julius growled, pivoting swiftly to follow.
But the moment he turned the corner, he came to an abrupt halt.
A dead end? No…
Before him stood a massive crimson door.
The oppressive aura it exuded sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.
What... is this door?
The realization hit him like a cold wave.
If that man had entered this place, then he had no choice. He had to go in.
Determined, Julius stepped forward, his hand pressing against the heavy door. It wouldn't budge. He pushed harder. Still unmoving.
His expression darkened. Then, without hesitation, he channeled the power of Shadow Magic, allowing himself to slip through.
Darkness engulfed him.
Yet, his vision remained sharp. This was one of the many advantages of inheriting the Shadow Magic of the Shadow King, Sharron.
What... is this place?
Julius stood in an expansive chamber, a towering hall lined with floors—five in total. Each floor bore a number, stark white against the shadowy expanse. He had emerged into the fifth.
But what truly caught his attention were the metallic coffers chained shut across the chamber. Each bore a red talisman inscribed with intricate magical glyphs.
Seals.
Seven.
Except...
One of the coffers was open. Its chains lay discarded on the floor, its talisman missing.
A sense of foreboding prickled at the back of his mind.
Cautiously, Julius approached the unsealed coffer—only to halt as he caught sight of something unexpected.
A mirror.
A tall, polished mirror standing eerily in the middle of the chamber, its surface reflecting his image.
A mirror? Here?
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the reflection began to shift.
The glass no longer showed Julius.
Instead, another figure stood in his place.
His breath hitched.
"You... Elias Corvin?"