In a room with a dark and strange atmosphere… the walls were forged from iron and stone, and to the right, there stood a horizontal bookshelf — neatly arranged.
There was a large, tattered couch in the corner of the room. The ceiling was adorned with several luxurious chandeliers, but they were half-destroyed. In the center, a table — its color somewhere between black and brown — looked at first glance like a royal artifact.
At the back of the room, a throne-like chair with a tall, broken back stood rooted to the ground. On it sat Isaac, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, fingers interlocked.
His eyes were closed, and a mysterious, eerie smile spread across his face. He spoke in a deep, ominous tone — without moving his lips:
"Lord Azik Arakmand… what a surprise visit. You sit on that couch so elegantly… like a ghost waiting in silence."
Azik sat on the worn-out couch, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes burning like fire as he stared at Isaac. He responded with a dark, royal tone:
"Saint Isaac. It's been a long time since I've stepped into this filthy place. How are your village and the Six?"
Isaac let out a faint chuckle and spoke in a deep voice:
"You've come here three times now. And not once did you ask about the village or the Six… Let's skip the games. You came here because you saw the black cloud over the arena… am I right, Lord Azik?"
Azik closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly and responded in a calm, royal tone:
"As always, your ability to sense the truth in others is impressively sharp… I have a question for you: has the Forgotten Beast awakened inside Prince Faithless?"
Isaac opened one eye and replied in a low, growling voice:
"And what concern is that of yours, Lord Azik?"
Azik chuckled quietly and spoke in a deep tone:
"You know it concerns me… and everyone in the other kingdoms. A catastrophe like this could even bring down King Jin Lee."
Isaac placed his ten fingers onto the table and responded in a heavy tone:
"No… he's just a tamed dog inside Faithless. So we have nothing to fear from him."
Azik's voice came deep, curious:
"Then how do you explain his deadly attack on Lady Marian? He nearly severed her head."
Isaac smiled — dark and cunning — and responded with a sly tone:
"When you raise a dog… what do you expect from it? To protect you from danger. That's what the Forgotten Beast did… he was defending Faithless."
Suddenly…
An aura with no color, no shadow, and no trace spread across the room. The air began to suffocate.
Azik sat, his hand resting on his cheek, legs still crossed. His eyes slowly turned into pure black — no whites, no light… only a deep void.
Then he spoke in a low, heavy voice, as if it were carved from iron:
"Stopping the Beast? I fought it when I could still see the light. But if it rises again… I will extinguish everything — even the light itself."
Behind Isaac, a blood-red cross appeared, releasing a heavy, terrifying aura. His fingers still interlocked, his smile grew wider, more disturbing. He spoke with a voice sharp and piercing like a three-pointed arrow — still without moving his lips:
"You talk as if you were the only one who fought it… All of us fought it. And all of us lost. The only one who sealed it and shattered its pride… was the Yellow Emperor."
Their auras were terrifying and thick — shockingly, the room didn't collapse under the weight of their power. Azik's voice grew heavier, suffocating:
"The Yellow Emperor… the one with no name. It's an insult to compare him to any of us. But he's no longer here. Can you guarantee the safety of everyone from this Forgotten Beast, Saint Isaac?"
Blood trickled from Isaac's eye, glowing crimson from excitement. His heartbeat surged uncontrollably. He spoke with a manic grin and a tone full of twisted joy:
"Azik, I may be a saint… but when it comes to battle, I become someone else. And you know that forbidden title… especially when I lose my mind."
Azik let out a heavy laugh, echoing from another realm, then spoke with a dark, cryptic tone:
"You haven't changed much, Saint Isaac. You've taken the saint as your perfect disguise… and you wear it well."
Isaac replied with a mocking, heavy voice:
"An actor must have a strong heart and a sharp mind… to memorize the script and stand before the crowd without flinching. So yes… I'm an actor. But I don't perform on stage — I act in reality."
The chandeliers stopped swaying as the pressure around them solidified. A white spectral grin formed on Azik's face as he spoke in a terrifying tone:
"Clever as always… you study the scene before diving in flawlessly."
Both of them smiled darkly, as if they were drowning in conversation. And every time they tried to end it, a single word kept dragging them deeper.
Suddenly…
A slit in the air opened like the tip of a needle — a rift of black and red. From within that dimensional tear stepped out a tall woman in a long red dress, revealing parts of her stomach and chest. Her features were obscured, and she wielded a scythe designed in the shape of an inverted cross.
She spoke in a smooth, gentle voice that seemed to glide through the room like silk:
"Lord Azik… you have many missions waiting. This conversation with Saint Isaac won't end soon… both of you enjoy talking about the past far too much."
The overwhelming auras disappeared the moment the mysterious woman entered. Isaac placed his index finger and thumb on his chin and spoke in a thick, heavy tone:
"Everycrimson… it's been a long time, dear. Your appearance always seems to coincide with Lord Azik's."
Everycrimson turned her glowing red eyes toward Saint Isaac and replied with a cold, elegant tone:
"You're welcome to visit us, Saint. We've been busy with many tasks, as you surely know — especially after signs of the Forgotten Beast's awakening started to appear."
Azik stepped closer to the black-and-red gate, entering it halfway. His voice came out as a suffocating royal command:
"It doesn't die… but you can tame it."
Lord Azik stepped through the gate after delivering his final words… Lady Everycrimson turned to look at Saint Isaac and spoke with a cold tone:
"Until next time… Saint."
She then stepped into the gate, and it closed quietly. The atmosphere returned to normal. Isaac rested his foot on the table, tapping his cheek with his index finger, murmuring quietly to himself:
"The Forgotten Beast… what a terrifying legend."
—
Elsewhere…
In a large room filled with mirrors and shelves neatly stocked with books, moonlight streamed in through a wide window. Six beds were arranged evenly across the room.
This was the chamber of the Six Members. Only four were present at the time. Juline spoke in a soft and sorrowful tone:
"I feel so sad for Prince Faithless… and Lady Marianne."
Marceline had a pillow over her face and spoke with a cold, calm tone:
"I don't know what came over her… using her technique like that. It seems she wanted to kill him out of pure hatred for his bloodline."
"But what did Prince Faithless do wrong?" Juline sat up partially, her voice choked with sorrow. "He's just someone who lost everything… because of the kings. He has nothing to do with it."
Kaidos, lying under his blanket, responded in a quiet voice:
"To hate someone for their lineage is pathetic… and we all saw it. Faithless wasn't even using his full strength… he was just training, enjoying himself with all his heart."
Marceline removed the pillow from her face and glanced toward Kaidos, speaking in a sarcastic tone:
"Man… I almost forgot you were here. You don't speak much, huh?"
Kaidos didn't reply.
Juline spoke in a teasing tone, her expression exaggerated:
"Looks like he's gone silent again… meow~"
Both Juline and Marceline burst into laughter. Then Juline, as if remembering something, shifted to a calm tone:
"Right, I almost forgot… why did Faithless seem so… different lately? Even his aura felt terrifying. And those black clouds… what was that about?"
Marceline looked at her, resting her palm against her cheek, her voice curious:
"I'm not sure… maybe he has a hidden power, or something unknown. After all, he is of a great bloodline — one that inherited a mysterious power across generations."
"You're right," Juline added quietly. "It seems Lady Marian and Tawakizra aren't here either…"
Marceline placed the pillow on her head again, yawning as she spoke in a tired tone:
"Lady Marian's probably at her favorite spot… as for Tawakizra, no one ever knows where he vanishes to."
Eric finally spoke — his voice deep as he read a book with a candle beside him providing light:
"Enough talking… I'm trying to focus."
"Shut up, half-mask." Juline and Marceline both said at once in a mocking tone.
—
Elsewhere again…
Lady Marianne sat atop a mountain known as Malwa, surrounded by trees and blooming flowers that soothed the soul.
From this height, she had a clear view of a beautiful and massive gothic palace, the full moon hanging directly above it.
Lady Marianne sat on the ground, her body slumped forward, arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to lean on her own warmth. Her shoulders curved inwards, head bowed down, hidden behind strands of her long white hair. Her legs were tucked in, wrapped by the long folds of her coat.
Her entire posture oozed defeat and silence. Then her soft, broken voice escaped her lips:
"What brings you here… Tawakizra?"
Tawakizra let out a soft chuckle as he approached, hands behind his back, eyes gazing toward the moon's beauty. He spoke in a calm, deep tone:
"Whenever the world becomes too heavy for you… this place is always your sanctuary."
Lady Marianne smiled faintly, her voice still heavy with sadness:
"There is no sanctuary in this cruel world… I'm only trying to run from reality and drown in impossible dreams."
Tawakizra's voice remained steady and calm:
"Nothing is impossible in this world… 'Impossible' is a word invented by a failure and believed by others like him. So don't be like them."
He added in the same tone, as if preparing to leave:
"You should apologize to him. Don't judge someone by their bloodline. That's a narrow way of thinking, Lady Marianne."
Tawakizra walked calmly into the trees, disappearing with steady footsteps.
On the other side, Lady Marianne exhaled a long, trembling breath and spoke in a quiet, sorrowful voice:
"Apologize to him… I only knew him for half a day… so why does my heart ache for the one who lost faith?"