The Hidden Monster of House Vale

The morning sun cast pale light across the camp, illuminating the faces of fourteen peak Spirit Forge realm masters as they prepared for battle. Weapons were sharpened, strategies reviewed, and astral energy reserves carefully conserved. The mood was confident—almost exuberant.

Halfred stood at the head of the assembled group, his red hair catching the light like fire. "Everyone," he announced, his voice carrying across the clearing, "today is the day we show our courage to those demonic faction members. We outnumber them two to one. Victory is certain!"

A cheer rose from the gathered realm masters. Quindic pounded his fists together, grinning. Perie cracked his knuckles. Even the usually stoic Samley seemed to stand a little taller.

Lucien watched the display with barely concealed amusement. It seems like they're the type who believe courage and bravery are always rewarded, he thought, his golden eyes scanning the crowd. Is that why they've been stuck here for more than half a month? Fucking losers.

Quindic appeared at his side, his massive hand clapping Lucien's shoulder with enough force to stagger a normal man. "Lucien! Let's do our best today. Make sure those demonic faction bastards never survive this battle!"

Lucien's smile was smooth, practiced. "You're right, Quindic. I'll make sure they pay for what they did."

But even as he spoke, his mind was elsewhere. The reason they're calling this third faction 'demonic' is simple—any realm master who controls or uses other realm masters can be considered demonic. By that definition, I'm a demonic realm master as well. I use others souls. I manipulate. I consume.

He glanced around at the gathered warriors, their faces alight with righteous fury.

The third faction leader uses his skill to control his team. That's considered demonic. But this definition never applies to psychological manipulation or honey traps. For them, seduction isn't demonic. If you ask me, they're just hypocrites.

Gwenra stood apart from the group, her golden eyes fixed on Lucien. She had been watching him since the beginning—since he had entered the Ancient Breach with Delian Alde, since he had grown stronger and stronger with each passing day. He was fascinating, unpredictable, and dangerous.

What is he planning? she wondered. He had been keeping his presence low, making friends with Quindic and Perie, even befriending members of Halfred's team. Rosra in particular seemed drawn to him.

He's up to something. I can feel it.

The dark forest was a maze of twisted trees and shadowy clearings. Morbert's camp sprawled across what had once been a small village, its decaying buildings serving as shelters for his mind-controlled army. The seven realm masters of the demonic faction moved with mechanical precision, their eyes empty, their wills subsumed.

Morbert stood at the center of the camp, his gaunt face twisted into a cruel smile. "Today," he announced, his voice echoing across the clearing, "we are going to kill every realm master in this place. No matter what happens, no one will flee the battlefield."

"Yes, Master," his slaves responded in unison, their voices flat and lifeless.

Morbert had known about this dungeon long before he entered. He had read stories of its treasures, its dangers, and its unique requirements. He knew how difficult it was to find peak Spirit Forge realm masters he could trust—so he had stopped trusting. He had hunted them one by one, broken their wills, and made them his slaves. Now he had a team that would die for him without hesitation.

His only goal was to conquer this dungeon and become the strongest. He believed that if people would just listen to him, he could achieve anything.

Suddenly, arrows and astral bombs rained from the sky, detonating across his camp with devastating force.

"They're here," Morbert said, his smile widening. "Prepare to kill them all. Today, we feast on their meat and blood."

The battle erupted with savage intensity.

Halfred and Gwenra led the charge, their attacks coordinated and devastating. Halfred's Flame Serpent Strike coiled through the air, a whip of fire that forced Morbert to retreat. Gwenra followed with Wind Piercing Palm, a close-range attack that would have shattered most defenses.

But when the smoke cleared, Morbert was still standing—protected by the massive form of Lordan, a giant of a man who stood 2.3 meters tall. Lordan's body had been strengthened to an impossible degree, his skin like iron, his muscles like steel cables.

Gwenra's eyes narrowed as she saw Morbert using Lordan as a shield. She retreated quickly, her expression darkening with disgust.

Quindic charged forward, his fists crackling with astral energy. He engaged Lordan in hand-to-hand combat, their blows shaking the ground beneath them. But Lordan was stronger—his Mountain Breaking Fist connected with Quindic's chest, sending him flying nearly forty meters.

Lordan turned toward Gwenra, his empty eyes fixed on her. But before he could attack, Ollyn—a realm master from Halfred's team—intercepted with Thunder Step Slash, his blade carving a deep wound across Lordan's chest.

Lordan didn't even flinch.

Fayie's arrows rained down, each one striking with lethal precision. Lordan dodged, his movements impossibly fast for someone his size. Isalyn's poisonous attacks had no effect—he was immune. Samley appeared from the shadows, his daggers finding gaps in Lordan's armor, but the giant just kept fighting.

Rosra stepped forward, her crimson hair flowing like blood. She drew her sword, her astral energy flaring. "Heaven Sword Art!"

The attack consumed vast amounts of astral energy, but it was effective. The blade of light cut through Lordan's arms, severing them at the elbows. Blood sprayed across the battlefield, but Lordan still didn't stop. He charged forward, his stumps swinging wildly.

Quindic had recovered. He leaped back into the fray, his Earth Shattering Kick connecting with Lordan's head. The giant's skull cracked, half his face caving in, but still he fought on, kicking Quindic with enough force to send him hurtling toward the edge of a cliff.

Lucien moved.

His Skill bloody veins erupted from the ground, stabbing through Lordan's body from every direction. The giant froze, his lifeless eyes finally showing a flicker of something—pain, perhaps, or release. Then he crumbled, his body dissolving into motes of light that streamed toward the red gate of the Heart of the Death Pit.

Quindic was hanging onto the edge of the cliff, his massive fingers digging into the stone. Lucien appeared above him, his hand extended.

"Need a hand, Quindic?"

Quindic looked up, a grin spreading across his bruised face. "Yeah, brother. I do."

Lucien pulled him up, and the two of them stood side by side, watching the battle continue. Everything had happened so fast—there was no time to discuss, no time to process. The others were still fighting, still dying.

Lordan's soul energy merged with the gate, Lucien noted, his mind calculating. Interesting. The gate consumes the souls of fallen realm masters. That's how it's sealed.

Morbert changed his strategy. He pulled his remaining slaves close, surrounding himself with a wall of mind-controlled bodies. He had started with seven—now he had six, including himself. The numbers were against him, but he was far from defeated.

His new plan was simple: divide and conquer. If he could separate the allied forces, he could pick them off one by one. The chances were low, but it was his only option.

He used Lorey's ability—the assassin's power to erase presence. With a surge of astral energy, Morbert and his remaining slaves vanished into thin air, their presences completely concealed.

Halfred's eyes widened. "Where did they go?!"

Gwenra's expression was grim. "They're hiding. Waiting for the right moment to strike."

"We don't have time," Halfred said, his voice urgent. "If we don't kill them now, they'll recover and make another plan. We need to finish this today."

"You're right," Gwenra agreed. "Everyone, spread out. Teams of two. Cover as much ground as possible."

The group split into teams. Gwenra and Halfred paired up as leaders. Lucien found himself partnered with Rosra.

But as they prepared to depart, Lucien noticed something—Ashdan's jealous glare fixed on him. The blue-haired man clearly had feelings for Rosra, but he had never acted on them. Now he watched as the woman he loved walked away with a stranger.

Pathetic, Lucien thought. If you want something, take it. Don't just sit there and sulk.

The mountainous terrain was treacherous, its paths winding through narrow ravines and dark caves. Lucien and Rosra walked in comfortable silence, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

"What do you think?" Lucien asked casually. "Did they come here?"

Rosra laughed, a light, musical sound. "Who knows? Does it even matter? All that matters is that we're alone here."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "It seems you don't give a fuck about killing them."

"Maybe I should be thankful they're not here," Rosra replied, her voice teasing. "I mean, we're just two people. If all six of them were together, we'd be dead."

"But I saw them going separately," Lucien said. "Groups of two. The chances are they're not together—not all six of them."

"Oh?" Rosra's smile was sly. "Are you complaining about being here alone with me?"

They entered a cave, their torches illuminating walls covered in ancient runes. But there was no sign of the demonic faction.

Lucien turned to Rosra, his golden eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "Are you sure you don't have anyone special? You're too beautiful to be alone."

Rosra's cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, maybe someone from my team likes me. But I find him boring."

They talked and flirted, their words dancing around each other like fireflies. The tension between them was palpable, electric.

In the forest, Katelle and Kelie moved through the underbrush, their senses alert. The siblings had grown up together, fought together, survived together. They knew each other's movements better than anyone else.

"So," Katelle said, his voice casual, "when are you going to propose to Halfred? If you don't hurry, someone might steal him away."

Kelie's face reddened. "I'm still too embarrassed. But you're right—if I don't act soon, what if Rosra takes him?"

"I don't think Rosra is interested in Halfred," Katelle said. "She seems more interested in that Lucien guy. They were getting along quite well."

"Lucien?" Kelie frowned. "But still Halfred spends so much time with Gwenra, right?"

"Because they're leaders. It's necessary for them to be together. Politics, you know."

Kelie sighed. "I suppose. What about you? When are you going to ask for Marian's hand? You're close with Halfred—he'd never say no."

Katelle's expression grew wistful. "I'm scared. She hardly ever notices me."

"Maybe you should do something extraordinary," Kelie suggested. "Like killing someone very strong."

"Maybe," Katelle said, his eyes distant. Then he froze. "Wait. I think I sense someone."

They tensed, weapons ready, searching the darkness for signs of their enemy.

Halfred and Gwenra walked along the riverbank, their conversation more strategic than social.

"How long have you been leading your team?" Halfred asked.

"Not that long," Gwenra replied. "What about you? You seem close with your teammates—like family."

"We grew up together," Halfred said. "We're like family, but things have become so complicated now. Nothing is simple anymore."

"I understand," Gwenra said. "After achieving the peak Spirit Forge realm, it's just a dead end. Unless someone has a divine physique."

"Yeah," Halfred agreed. "Without a divine physique, it's just a dead end. We're also here for the divine physique—not that we know if this dungeon even has one."

In the barren lands, Ashdan and Ollyn trudged through the dust and rock. Ashdan's expression was dark, his fists clenched.

"Your mood isn't good today, Ashdan," Ollyn observed.

Ashdan glared at the ground. "That Lucien. He just came two days ago, and now he's flirting with Rosra like he owns her. I saw him—the way he looked at her."

"It's not like he's the only one doing it," Ollyn pointed out. "Rosra joined him of her own free will. And if you have a problem with it, maybe you should just propose to her and show her how you feel."

"I was scared of losing her friendship," Ashdan admitted. "She's so nice, so kind, so cheerful. No one understands her like I do. And that Lucien—he's not a good guy. I don't think he's going to treat her well."

"Why do you think that?"

"He's too handsome," Ashdan spat. "There's no way he's not playing with her. What if he's just a playboy?"

Ollyn sighed. "Whatever. Even if they love each other, it's not like you can do anything about it. And don't worry—we already have a plan. Once we get rid of this demonic faction, I don't think Halfred is going to let them live."

Ashdan's eyes gleamed with dark hope. "Yeah. Once we kill them, I'll kill Lucien personally. Then, after this is over, I'll show my love to Rosra."

"That's the spirit," Ollyn said, clapping his shoulder. "Think of the positive side. It's already night—we probably won't find them now. Oh, look—there's a cliff."

"Maybe we can rest there," Ashdan suggested.

"Go check that cave," Ollyn said. "Make sure there aren't any monsters or demonic realm masters hiding inside. I'll find something to eat."

Ashdan nodded and made his way toward the cliff. As he entered the cave, he noticed a faint light coming from deeper within. Voices echoed—intimate, passionate voices.

Someone's already here, he thought. I wonder who it is.

He crept closer, his heart pounding. As he reached the entrance to the inner chamber, he saw two figures intertwined, their clothes scattered on the floor. The sounds of their passion filled the air, and Ashdan froze, his face burning with embarrassment and fury.

When the light illuminated the scene, he saw them clearly.

Lucien. And Rosra.

Ashdan's eyes fell to the floor, where a charm he had given Rosra lay abandoned. She had told him she would never take it off. Never.

He collapsed against the wall, his mind reeling. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but sit there in shock.

When Rosra finally emerged, dressed but flushed, she screamed. "What the hell, Ashdan! What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?"

Lucien appeared behind her, a satisfied smile on his face. He was wearing only his pants, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

Ollyn came running at the sound of the scream. "What's going on?!"

"What are you two doing here?" Rosra demanded. "Weren't you supposed to be on the west side?"

Ollyn glanced between Rosra and Lucien, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding. "Maybe this place isn't as big as we thought," he said lamely. "Who knows, it might be some kind of maze."

"Rosra, why are you pretending?" Ashdan's voice was raw, broken. "I saw you sleeping with him. A man you met two days ago."

"Yeah, I did," Rosra snapped. "So what? Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do and what not to do?"

Lucien stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Rosra's shoulder. He led her back into the cave, leaving Ashdan and Ollyn outside.

Ollyn grabbed Ashdan's arm and pulled him away. "Come on. Let's give them some space."

"I'm going to kill him," Ashdan said, his voice flat. "I'm going to kill Lucien. And then I'm going to take Rosra back."

"Calm down," Ollyn warned. "Right now, we need to focus on the mission. Revenge can wait."

At the waterfall, Halfred and Gwenra had found a cave. They entered, hoping for a moment's rest.

And then they saw it.

Marian's head was mounted on the wall, her eyes still open, her expression frozen in a scream of terror. Her body lay on the ground, brutally mutilated.

And beside it, Perie's head swung from a rope, bashing against the wall with each swing. His body was nowhere to be found.

Halfred collapsed to his knees, a sound of pure agony tearing from his throat. "MARIAN! NO! NO, NO, NO!"

Gwenra stood frozen, her face pale. Perie was dead. Marian was dead.

Author Note:

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