"Rustle… rustle…"
In a dark corner, withered leaves were crushed by some invisible weight, letting out faint, brittle sounds.
Something was crawling slowly along the damp base of the wall.
It was a pitch-black creature. The way it slithered forward resembled a venomous snake, yet it was far slower than any serpent.
So slow, in fact, that when it reached the bedroom door, none of the three people inside noticed it at all.
It simply stopped there as night gradually deepened.
The village chief lay stiffly on the bed, tense to the point of terror. He didn't dare close his eyes—didn't even dare breathe—afraid that if he relaxed for even a moment, he would vanish and lose his life.
All that vigilance, however, was meaningless.
The black shadow suddenly liquefied and seeped into the ground—more precisely, into the shadow within the crack of the doorframe.
Its already faint presence vanished completely. The room became unnervingly quiet, so quiet that even the crackling of the candlewick sounded painfully clear.
Hal held his breath, sweat beading densely on his forehead.
"Where is it?"
The sensing ability granted by the Goddess seemed to have failed him.
Just moments ago, he could still feel a faint pricking sensation—but now, there was nothing at all.
This unnatural calm reminded him of the dead silence before a storm.
Did it leave?
No. Absolutely not.
That monster clearly possessed intelligence. It knew how to observe—and how to provoke.
This was no longer an ordinary opponent.
It had to be dealt with before it evolved any further.
Otherwise, countless lives would be lost.
With that thought weighing on him, time crawled by, second after second, in agonizing suspense.
Yuhran leaned against the wall, seemingly half-asleep, as if he didn't care about the danger at all.
After all, he was just an ordinary person with no magic.
If the monster wanted to eat someone, it wouldn't choose him—so on the surface, he seemed completely at ease.
Around midnight, the village chief finally couldn't hold on any longer. Drowsiness overcame him, and his eyes slowly closed.
At that moment, the shadow beneath the doorframe moved.
At a speed nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, it shot beneath the bed.
Even though Hal was watching intently, he still failed to see it clearly.
At the same time—
"!"
The village chief's eyes flew open. His cloudy pupils shrank violently, and the bloodshot whites of his eyes looked terrifying in the darkness.
He tried to sit up. Veins bulged across his body, his frail frame suddenly brimming with strength that didn't belong to a dying old man.
With every ounce of strength he had, he forced his mouth open and screamed hoarsely:
"Save—"
"Divine Light—!"
Almost simultaneously, Hal sprang to his feet and flipped open the Sacred Text. The gilded letters burst forth with blinding brilliance.
Holy white light flooded the entire room in an instant, carrying divine power!
But it was still a step too late.
The village chief's body suddenly sank into the bed. His hunched figure looked as if it were being dragged by invisible hands—and then he was gone.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Hal's incantation hadn't even finished.
"..."
Silence returned once more. The light gradually dimmed.
Hal stood frozen, eyes unfocused.
"Damn it!"
He lowered his head. His clenched fists trembled, knuckles whitening as if they might split open.
Why… why hadn't Goddess magic worked?
What kind of monster was that?
Or was he simply too weak?
"Hm." Nearby, Yuhran woke up, squinting as he took in the scene.
Since he had only met the village chief by chance, he didn't feel much sorrow or guilt.
Instead, he replayed what he had just seen in his mind.
"Don't be deceived by appearances. In the end, curses in this world are still just magic."
"Goddess magic counters all demon magic, that much is true—but… what if that wasn't magic at all?"
With that thought, he quietly asked Miliarde:
"Did you see anything? With your centuries of experience."
Miliarde leaned against Yuhran, lazily taking a sip from the flask at her waist.
The stimulation of alcohol sent her mind racing, and a conclusion quickly formed.
She spoke slowly, "Shadows. That monster moves through shadows—including transporting its prey."
Hal heard this and froze, then snapped his head around, asking urgently:
"Shadows?"
"That's right." Miliarde slowly stood up.
She brushed the dust from her clothes, her tone still calm and casual.
"Light creates shadows, and shadows are a natural phenomenon. Goddess magic cannot affect them."
"You don't need to blame yourself. After all, you said it yourself—it's an intelligent creature."
"So using your own attack against you isn't impossible."
Miliarde wasn't speaking without basis.
Over the long centuries of her life, she had encountered all kinds of monsters and witnessed countless forms of magic.
Drawing parallels came naturally to her.
Hal was completely stunned, pupils slightly dilating.
—Magic that uses shadows?
The realization made his stomach twist.
If that was the case, then the holy light he had just unleashed…
"Yuhran, let's go. I can't stay here any longer."
Miliarde suddenly reached out and tightly grabbed Yuhran's wrist.
"I can't deal with shadows."
She hung the flask back at her waist and smoothed her disheveled hair, her expression grave.
"The monster's next target will definitely be me—or this priest."
"All monsters act for one reason only: to eat, and to evolve."
She thought of the horned tiger king, unease stirring faintly in her heart.
Yuhran hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
He might have strength, but how could he fight an intangible shadow?
Miliarde's safety was paramount—even more important than the Sacred Text.
Hal raised his hand, fingers hovering in midair as if he wanted to stop them.
He felt that someone as knowledgeable as Miliarde had to be an experienced expert.
But the words never left his mouth.
This was gambling with lives. He couldn't be that selfish.
At that moment, Yuhran frowned and said thoughtfully:
"If it's a shadow… then if we create a space without shadows, wouldn't it be possible to destroy it?"
He wasn't suggesting that he act himself—only offering the priest some inspiration.
After all, among the three of them, only he was truly "well-informed."
Hal's eyes lit up instantly.
Eliminate shadows? There was such a method?
This young man…
He looked at Yuhran, and hope rekindled in his previously dim eyes.
Miliarde suddenly stopped walking. She tilted her head, gazing at Yuhran with faint puzzlement.
"You really want to go to that town that badly?"
"Not really. I just don't want to see monsters continue acting so arrogantly. I'm human."
He might stand by and watch monsters eat people—but he would never support it.
That was his bottom line. And it was also about understanding a monster's weaknesses, so that one day, he might defeat one himself.
Miliarde let out a long breath.
Human?
She couldn't understand it.
But as a mage, she was also curious—could shadow magic really be countered by light?
Still…
How do you create a space without shadows?
Her gaze fell on Yuhran.
Yuhran looked confident.
He already had an answer.
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