After cleaning the blood of the elves from their armor, Benson and John finally straightened.
The metallic smell still lingered faintly in the air, clinging stubbornly to their clothes no matter how much they wiped.
"Let's go," Benson said.
His voice was calm—but quieter than usual.
No one spoke.
They moved.
The castle corridors stretched endlessly, twisting and turning like a living maze. Their footsteps echoed unevenly against the stone, sometimes loud, sometimes swallowed entirely.
It was strange.
Too quiet.
No guards.
No patrols.
No sound.
Even their breathing felt intrusive.
Lily walked near the middle, her fingers brushing lightly against the cold stone wall as if grounding herself.
Something's wrong…
It wasn't just the silence.
It felt like they were being watched.
Not by eyes—
But by the castle itself.
After a while, they reached a room.
The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.
It wasn't oppressive like the halls.
It was… abandoned.
Elegant carvings lined the walls, forming intricate patterns that must have once been beautiful. Dust-coated murals stretched across the stone—faded figures, magic circles, something grand that time had nearly erased.
In the corner stood a small wooden desk, slightly tilted, one leg crudely repaired.
Beside it—
A bookshelf.
Thick cobwebs draped over it like a veil, and several books were missing, leaving empty spaces that felt intentional.
Nothing here was ancient.
But everything had been used.
Used… and left behind.
"Let's try searching here," Benson said.
They spread out.
John checked drawers, occasionally tapping the wood like he expected hidden compartments.
Kane examined the structure of the room, his eyes scanning patterns rather than objects.
Christina stayed near the center, quietly watching everyone.
Lily approached the bookshelf.
Her fingers brushed against the spines, leaving trails in the dust.
Most books crumbled slightly when touched. Others were too damaged to open.
Then—
One didn't.
She pulled it out carefully.
A diary.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then she opened it.
5/12
I started keeping a diary since my master locked me here. My memory is also pretty bad, so this should help.
5/13
I ate some chicken for the first time. It tasted pretty bad.
5/14
I realized I had to cook it.
Lily blinked.
"…What?"
That wasn't what she expected.
5/15
This castle is pretty boring. I already mastered dark magic. Maybe I should try to leave?
5/16
I finally understood how to break the seal that damn master placed here. It was actually pretty simple.
5/17
I decided to stay for a bit and reorganize my stuff for the next poor guy my master will pick.
Lily's brows slowly furrowed.
He could leave…
Her eyes lingered on the words.
So why didn't he?
That question stuck.
Uncomfortable.
Like something just slightly out of place.
She flipped further.
1/2
A year has passed. Spending all this time by myself made me feel bored, so I made some friends. I call them "dark puppets." It seems like a fitting name.
Dark puppets.
The words echoed in her mind.
Something about them felt familiar… too familiar.
But she couldn't place it.
1/6
I talked a bit with my friends, and they asked me a question I hadn't asked in a long time.
"Why haven't I left yet?"
They're right.
I broke the seal easily. So why… am I still here?
Lily felt a slight chill run down her spine.
1/7
My head started to hurt after thinking about it. It seems that there is something inside my head.
…
1/30
While practicing magic for a long time, I found a spell inside my head. I didn't place it there.
1/31
It was a spell that gave me suggestions. Magic like what my master uses.
It made me want to stay here forever.
Lily's grip tightened unconsciously.
Her heart beat faster.
2/1
I destroyed the spell. I think my master knows that now.
2/3
I'll leave. There's nothing left here.
Just in case I come back by some miracle… I guess I'll leave some things behind.
Then—
Nothing.
Blank pages.
Lily slowly closed the diary.
"So… he really left…" she whispered.
But something about it didn't feel finished.
Like a story cut off mid-sentence.
She turned the book over.
Her eyes landed on the name.
And everything stopped.
Her breath caught.
Her vision blurred.
Her fingers went numb.
The book slipped.
She stumbled back and collapsed onto the floor.
"I-it can't be…"
"Lily!" Christina rushed forward.
But Lily couldn't hear her properly.
Her mind was spinning.
Her hand trembled as she pointed.
"Th-the book…"
Kane picked it up.
He read.
Turned it over.
And froze.
"…No way."
Benson took it next.
Then John.
Then Christina.
Silence fell over the room like a weight.
Hugo Erikson
The name alone felt heavy.
Like it carried history with it.
Power.
Fear.
Legend.
Hugo Erikson.
The mage who redefined dark magic.
The one who turned shadows into tools—puppets, constructs, even vessels to control others.
One of the Eleven Sovereigns.
A name that shouldn't be connected to a place like this.
And yet—
It was.
Dark puppets…
Lily's thoughts spiraled.
Controlling minds… placing spells inside someone's head…
Her stomach tightened.
This place… isn't just abandoned.
It's a leftover piece of something dangerous.
"No wonder this place feels wrong," Benson muttered.
They moved quickly after that.
The mood had changed.
This wasn't just exploration anymore.
They gathered the books.
Magic theories—half-erased.
Complex formulas—barely readable.
Potion recipes—smudged and incomplete.
Even damaged, they were priceless.
Fragments of a Sovereign's knowledge.
John flipped through one, frowning. "We're gonna need specialists for this."
"Doesn't matter," Benson replied. "We take everything."
They took everything they could—
Except for one book.
A cookbook.
Specifically…
Chicken recipes.
"…Leave that," Kane said flatly.
No one argued.
As the others worked—
Lily quietly moved back toward the shelf.
Her eyes landed on a smaller book tucked awkwardly behind others.
She pulled it out.
She stared at it.
Then slowly opened it.
Inside—
Simple recipes.
Chicken dishes.
Notes written in a casual tone.
She glanced back.
Everyone was busy.
No one was looking.
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
Then—
"…I'll just… keep it safe," she whispered to herself.
Though even she wasn't sure why.
"Done," Kane said.
They regrouped.
They left the room.
Silence followed them again.
But now—
It was heavier.
Every step felt like it carried meaning.
Like they had just uncovered something they weren't meant to.
Eventually—
They found the stairs again.
Up.
Or down.
Benson didn't hesitate.
"Up."
They climbed.
Each step creaked faintly under their weight.
The air grew colder.
Sharper.
At the top—
They stopped.
A figure stood there.
Waiting.
A single shadow.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't even seem to breathe.
His skin was a deep gray, almost blending into the dim surroundings.
His eyes—
Glowed faintly purple.
But there was no emotion in them.
None at all.
He wore dark robes, once elaborate but now torn at the edges. Faint patterns—similar to the ones in the room below—ran along the fabric, pulsing weakly like dying embers.
In his hand—
A staff.
Tall. Crooked.
Its tip held a cracked crystal, dim light flickering inside it like something struggling to stay alive.
The way he stood—
Perfectly straight.
Too straight.
The being tilted his head.
Slowly.
Unnaturally.
Then—
He smiled.
A stiff, unnatural smile.
Like something was pulling the strings.
"…So," Benson said quietly, stepping forward.
His hand moved to his weapon.
"Guess we're not alone after all."
The staff in the creature's hand flickered.
The purple glow in his eyes sharpened.
And in that moment—
Everyone understood.
This wasn't a guard.
It was a puppet.