"And I've come… for one simple reason—to retrieve something that lies within this place."
Though the words were spoken softly and calmly, they echoed across the square like a curse no one could escape. Richard Theodore stood upon the podium, his face radiant with deadly allure, the devil's smile on his lips making it seem as if all this chaos was nothing more than a game to him.
The townspeople began whispering in panic, speculation spreading through the air like a thick smoke of confusion.
"I want the two Lesser Keys that are hidden here," he said again, his eyes scanning the crowd with a piercing gaze that seemed to strip bare the soul of anyone who dared meet it.
"Lesser Key?" some villagers murmured in confusion.
"What is that?"
"Isn't it… one of the seven ancient relics that sealed the Dark Lord?"
The murmurs grew louder, fear spreading like a contagious disease. Many began to step back, unwilling to stand near anyone who might unknowingly possess such a cursed artifact.
Richard heard every whispered word—and only smiled wider, drinking in their fear like a master artist admiring his final masterpiece.
"If someone among you has those two artifacts," he continued, "and surrenders them without resistance… then the Nox Crows will spare them. We are not creatures without mercy."
His tone was sweet, even seductive. But behind that softness was a sharp blade—his offer more like a devil's bargain from a fairytale that always ends in tragedy.
Franz, having assessed the rapidly worsening situation, knew the time to act had come. He placed both hands on Adrian's shoulders and leaned in so only his adopted son could hear.
"Adrian, listen to me carefully. You need to leave. Now."
"What? But why—"
"They're looking for the two Lesser Keys… They're looking for Pendragon. And you're the one carrying it."
'Pendragon…?!'
Adrian swallowed hard. Only now did he remember. Amid all the peaceful, mundane life he'd lived in Rockville, he had forgotten one crucial thing—the black dagger engraved with a dragon is one of the seven Lesser Keys.
"Wait! I can't just leave you here!" Adrian protested, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I'll handle this, Adrian. You have a destiny greater than this night. Jerome!" Franz called out firmly.
"Right, Mr. Erlbaum." Jerome appeared like a shadow behind Adrian and quickly grabbed his wrist. "Come on—we have to go. Now."
Meanwhile, atop the podium, Richard began losing his patience. He stared out at the silent, paralyzed crowd, far too frightened to speak. He let out a dramatic sigh and raised one hand high.
"So no one wants to be honest? Very well… Executioners!"
With no further command, the black-cloaked Nox Crows sprang into motion. With deadly precision and silent efficiency, they began executing the villagers—mercilessly, sending a chilling message: silence means death.
Screams. Blood. The cries of children.
Richard smiled, pleased, like a maestro conducting a symphony of suffering.
"If no one confesses… you will all die."
But before the slaughter could escalate, a voice rang out—loud and clear-cutting through the chaos.
"WAIT!"
Franz stepped forward, placing himself between the terrified villagers and the executioners. His eyes blazed with determination. Though age had weathered his body, it still stood tall—hardened by countless battles and losses.
"If what you want is a Lesser Key, then you'll have to face me first."
Richard turned, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh~ So our village chief has some backbone after all. Good. This just got more interesting."
He stepped down from the podium and slowly walked toward Franz, his crimson eyes never leaving the older man.
"Just tell me where the two Lesser Keys are… and maybe I'll spare a life or two."
But Franz didn't answer immediately. He stared at Richard with unwavering focus, then spoke in a low, steady voice:
"We meet again… Crow of Wrath."
Richard froze mid-step.
"You might not recognize my face now, but listen closely to my name… I am Franz Erlbaum. Does that ring any bells?"
For a moment, time itself seemed to stop.
Richard's eyes widened.
He stumbled back a step—two—as if struck by a memory that hit him in the chest.
"No way…" he whispered, his smile faltering.
"You're still alive? The old dog who once served the Leonantus…" He let out a short, uneasy laugh, though his voice trembled slightly.
Franz scoffed. "And I had hoped that night would be the last time I ever saw your demonic face, Richard."
Richard smirked, crookedly. "Shame… you're harder to kill than I thought. But don't worry." He slowly raised his hand. "Tonight, I'll fix the mistakes of the past. And this time… you will die."
Franz smirked coldly, like an old wolf who had just caught the scent of his prey. "If you came here seeking two Lesser Keys… what a shame, Richard. Only one is in this village. And even that… is far beyond your reach."
A faint crease formed on Richard Theodore's face. His smile remained, but his eyes narrowed, now alert. "Only one? That's impossible. The Quaestior doesn't make mistakes."
He lifted a hand to stroke his sharp chin, then let out a quiet huff. "Well, it doesn't matter. At the very least… the presence of one Lesser Key has been confirmed."
That wicked grin returned to his lips, making the air feel colder than before.
In the blink of an eye, Richard exploded Body Aura into his legs, launching his body like a bullet. A sharp crack echoed as his foot struck the earth, shattering the ground beneath. He landed just a few paces in front of Franz, a burst of dust marking the beginning of a duel fated long ago.
Franz greeted his arrival by gripping the guard's iron sword tightly—a simple, weathered weapon, yet solid and dependable.
"You really intend to face me with that cheap blade?" Richard sneered, his voice laced with scorn, unable to believe Franz would choose such a lowly weapon.
Franz inhaled slowly and drew the blade from its sheath. "A weapon is just a tool, Richard. But in the right hands… even a stone can become a blade of death."
Richard burst out laughing, his voice echoing louder than the screams of the villagers. "You're still arrogant as ever, aren't you? But… you've forgotten something." His eyes began to glow blood red. "You've forgotten who I am, Franz."
Franz's face hardened. Memories of the past flashed in his mind—battles, massacres, wounds that never truly healed.
He knew exactly who stood before him—not a man, but a monster wearing the mask of one.
Franz turned, catching sight of the villagers still watching from afar, paralyzed by fear. Panic boiled in his chest. "ALL OF YOU! GET AWAY FROM HERE! NOW!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
But it was already too late.
From the moment Richard stood on that podium, his lips had been moving—chanting an incantation in an Ancient Igathi.
And now, the spell was complete.
Richard slammed his palm into the ground.
"Tenebris Ruptura!"
A massive explosion of dark energy erupted from the point of contact, like a magical bomb unleashing a wave of destruction. The earth trembled, buildings exploded, and fire burst from the debris. The shockwave devastated everything around it.
Screams. Blood. Scorching wind.
Adrian and Jerome, who had been running, were caught in the blast, their bodies flung into the air like dry leaves in a storm. Flames engulfed much of the village. The air thickened with smoke, ash, and the metallic scent of spilled blood.
Franz gritted his teeth. He spread his arms wide and summoned a Barrier Magic—a half-sphere shield. The explosion hammered against it mercilessly, cracks spidering across its surface like a web. When the shockwave finally subsided, the barrier was near collapse, and Franz knelt from the strain.
Richard stood calmly amidst the destruction like a god of death descended from his eternal throne.
"Impressive. Age hasn't dulled your skill, Franz," he said while walking forward, the ruins crumbling around him like petals of a hellish flower.
Franz rose slowly, his body battered and coated in dust, but his eyes remained sharp."Richard… you bastard who should've died ten years ago. I'm ending your life… here and now!"
Mana surged around his blade, turning the once-ordinary iron into a radiant blue weapon, humming with raw power. Franz had invoked Weapon Aura.
The ground around him cracked, and the wind spiraled from the pressure of the blade's aura.
"Let's see then," Richard murmured with a thin smile, as pieces of rubble and debris began to rise slowly around him—levitating with unnatural grace.
Richard Theodore's signature ability—Telekinesis.
"Let's find out who will be the first… to end the life of their old enemy."
***
A sharp ringing filled Adrian's ears.
Everything was blurry. The world had shattered into fragments of glass exploding in his head. He couldn't hear anything except that piercing sound—like thousands of needles dancing inside his eardrums. His body felt crushed, as if a small mountain had collapsed on top of him, heavy with pain.
Amid the chaos, a voice pierced through the haze of ringing in his ears.
"Wake up, Big Brother Adrian!"
That voice... high-pitched, panicked… a girl's voice.
With great effort, Adrian opened his eyes. His vision was hazy—the whole world seemed painted in shades of ash and red. He blinked repeatedly, trying to bring the world back into focus.
At last, the face of a little girl emerged clearly through the haze.
"S-Shelly…?" he whispered, the words barely audible on his lips.
The girl—Shelly, one of the orphans—was struggling to lift a large piece of debris off his body. Fortunately, it was just a wooden beam, not stone, or his body might have been completely crushed. But Shelly clearly didn't have the strength for it.
Adrian shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He focused his mind.
'I… should be able to use Body Aura.'
He inhaled deeply, channeling Mana into his arms. A soft blue glow surrounded his hands. Trembling, he began to lift the wooden beam. His muscles felt like they were on fire, but he managed to free himself from the wreckage.
Pain surged from his head to the tips of his fingers, but he clenched his teeth and pushed through it.
"What happened…?" he asked, still gasping for breath.
Shelly looked down, her breathing also uneven. "I'm not sure… but I saw a man with pale blue hair… he cast some kind of spell on the ground… and then everything exploded."
Adrian stiffened.
"Jerome!" he shouted. The image of his best friend flashed in his mind. He clearly remembered Jerome being thrown alongside him.
He immediately looked around, eyes scanning the debris and fires still burning in the distance. Then he saw it—messy blond hair, part of a body trapped under splintered wood.
"Jerome!"
Without hesitation, he ran, ignoring the pain racking his body. Shelly followed close behind, her breathing ragged.
Jerome was lying among the wreckage, his left leg pinned beneath a large wooden beam.
"A-Adrian…? Thank God you're alive." Jerome forced a smile, though his breath was labored. "Can you—uh—get this off me? I really don't want to die crushed under a plank… that'd be such a lame way to go."
Adrian frowned, half-smiling bitterly. "You're still joking at a time like this…" He used his Body Aura technique again, and together with Shelly, they lifted the debris. It was agonizingly heavy, but their will outweighed the burden.
Finally, Jerome pulled his leg free and collapsed back, though his leg was bruised and swollen.
"Phew…" he exhaled in relief. "Are you guys okay?"
Adrian nodded. "Shelly and I made it… somehow."
Jerome placed a hand over his chest, tracing a star symbol with his fingers—a small prayer for safety. But his expression suddenly changed—his eyes widened in realization.
"The orphanage kids…" he whispered.
Adrian froze. He had just remembered as well. They had left the children behind when everything went south.
Shelly lowered her head, her body trembling. Her voice was soft, uncertain, as though she was trying not to cry. "They… they're all… gone."
The words struck like a blade.
Adrian turned to her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"When I woke up after the explosion… I saw them…" Shelly struggled to hold back her tears."Their small bodies… scattered in the rubble. No one moved. No one got up. Some of them… I couldn't even recognize anymore."
"No…" Jerome was stunned. His voice caught in his throat.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the dusty ground. "No… no…"
His fists clenched. He pounded the ground—once, twice—until blood began to seep from his knuckles. "I should have protected them… I was responsible…! It should've been me who died…!"
Adrian stood silently beside him, filled with guilt. He knew Jerome had followed him to protect others. But he also knew... this catastrophe happened because of the Lesser Key, Pendragon, hidden at his waist.