This time, the figure of a man in a long, dark cloak appeared in the center of the room. Four large bones floated in a steady orbit around him, their size noticeably larger than any human bone Enya had seen. Even the femur, the largest bone in the human body, looked small compared to these summoned fragments.

  The man raised his hand, making slow, twirling motions that sent the bones spiraling around him in fluid arcs. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the four bones snapped into position, forming a double X-shape in front of him. The movement was precise and quick, and Enya could immediately see the utility of the spell in combat.

  The next spell, Spectral Chains, caught her attention. This one seemed to rely on intense focus and concentration—traits Enya felt confident she could handle effectively, especially with absolute focus.

  The same cloaked man appeared again, reinforcing the impression that he must have donated or sold multiple spells to the magic association. This time, small, glowing portals materialized around him, each one releasing ethereal chains that stretched upward and stood suspended in the air. The chains shimmered faintly, their movements lacking, as there was no target to grasp. It didn’t seem particularly impressive in the demonstration, but Enya could imagine how useful it might be in a real battle. The lack of context from the visualization just didn’t do it justice.

  Moving on to the fourth spell, Enya selected Inner Darkness Apparition.

  A new figure appeared—this one distinctly inhuman. It was the shape of a woman, her skin an unnatural shade of green, rough and coarse like aged bark. She stood tall, her posture imposing, yet there was an eerie stillness about her.

  “Well, that’s not something you see every day,” Pell remarked, standing off to the side. He had taken to quietly observing the various demonstrations, but the sight of this new entity seemed to pique his interest.

  “What is it?” Enya asked, tilting her head.

  Pell stroked the underside of his jaw, his fingers clinking lightly against the bone. After a moment, he responded. “If I’m not mistaken, this is a greater dryad. The lesser ones aren’t nearly as tall and tend to look more childlike. They’re usually bound to the Elven kingdoms, rarely venturing beyond their forests.”

  Enya turned her attention back to the greater dryad. A blurred spell circuit flickered into view in her hand. Once the spell was cast, a black mist began to seep from the dryad’s rooted skin, curling into the air like smoke. The mist swirled briefly before solidifying into an identical twin of the dryad—one green and vibrant, the other shrouded in flowing wisps of darkness.

  The apparition seemed both ethereal and solid, its shadowy tendrils shifting constantly. Despite its spectral appearance, it looked tangible enough to interact with the physical world. That must be what the spell meant by tangible and intangible.

  “Definitely creepy,” Pell muttered. “Still, this is the only spell you’ve shown so far that feels like a minion summoning. Then again, maybe it’s not a minion if it’s just a clone of yourself. Either way, it fits your necromancer vibe.”

  The demonstration diverged from the others. The dryad, the real one, suddenly lashed out with a punch aimed at the apparition. In an instant, the apparition countered, raising its arm to block the blow. Without hesitation, it retaliated, its other fist striking with such force that the dryad staggered back several feet. Blackened scorch marks marred her arm, the scent of charred wood lingering in the air.

  At an unnatural speed, the blurry form of the apparition rushed forward. The dryad swung again, her fist aimed directly at the apparition’s head, but it passed straight through, meeting no resistance. The apparition didn’t stop. It phased into the dryad’s body, its shadowy form vanishing inside. A moment later, the visualization abruptly ended.

  “Wow,” Pell said, his voice low. “That thing’s no joke. A ghost that can hit you, but you can’t hit it back? That’s terrifying. Not gonna lie, though… it absolutely screams evil.”

  Enya frowned, her thoughts drifting to something she had read by Sable back in the dungeon. He had argued that necromancy wasn’t inherently evil, just a tool like any other magic. Its morality depended entirely on how it was used.

  “Don’t people think necromancers are evil anyway?” she asked, her gaze lingering on the space where the apparition last was standing—floating. Flanding, she thought.

  Pell shrugged. “Pretty much. They see necromancers as unnatural, going against the natural order and all that. I guess it doesn’t really matter to you now that you are one. But that ghost thing? Straight out of a nightmare.”

  Turning her attention back to the spell screen, Enya studied the details. Unlike the others, this spell had a notes section. Scribbled remarks, likely left by the seller, caught her eye.

  Spell: Inner Darkness Apparition [C+]

  Description: The darkness hidden deep within your soul manifests as an apparition. This shadowy form can act on its own, both tangible and intangible. It carries a chilling, soul-dominating aura that can influence nearby beings.

  [Mana cost: 200MP]

  Seller notes:

  Despite its unsettling appearance, the inner darkness apparition remains entirely under the caster’s control. It can inhabit objects or beings, slowly corroding their strength and draining mana over time. The apparition’s power scales with the depth of darkness hidden within the caster’s soul. However, if the apparition is destroyed, that portion of the caster’s soul is lost permanently.

  The spell was undeniably versatile, offering a unique mix of close-range combat and untouchable evasion. Its ability to siphon strength and drain mana over time was particularly appealing. In theory, if the apparition entered a target, it could deplete their mana entirely without giving them any means of fighting back against it—unless they decided hit themselves. However, the spell lacked specifics on the rate of depletion—it could be extremely slow for all she knew.

  Then there were the glaring drawbacks: an high mana cost and the risk of soul damage.

  At 200 mana points, the spell was far beyond Enya’s current capabilities. Even with several mana potions, she wouldn’t come close to casting it. But mana wasn’t her only resource now.

  She had soul-energy.

  With the bonecarver’s quill, Enya could extract soul energy as an alternative, though she wasn’t yet sure how to gather enough in time. Skeletons in the dungeon offered meager amounts, but the demon rat had been a different story—it provided a significant supply.

  Her working theory was that freshly deceased creatures yielded more soul energy because their souls lingered briefly on the edge of the living plane. This would explain why the undead offered so little compared to the demon rat. Another possibility was that the strength of a soul varied between beings, independent of their physical or magical prowess. Unfortunately, she had no means to measure this soul strength directly.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  The other major concern was the permanent loss of part of her soul if the apparition were destroyed. It was a daunting risk. However, the ability of the apparition to become intangible or hide inside objects might mitigate the danger. If it could phase out just before an attack landed, perhaps it could avoid destruction entirely.

  Enya pushed her musings aside. There was one more spell left to test: Desecration Curse.

  In the demonstration, a figure appeared—a human clad in a dark, hooded cloak. They were short, though not quite dwarf-like in stature. Beside them, a small patch of grass materialized. With a flick of their hand, the spell activated. The grass at the center began to corrode, turning black as it withered and died. The decay spread outward, inch by inch, until the entire patch was reduced to dust after fifteen seconds.

  “Too long,” Pell commented, unimpressed.

  “Yeah,” Enya agreed. “It looks... okay, but it seems better suited for destroying things like buildings. The spectral chains spell also has a decay effect, so this one might just be worse overall.”

  “In my opinion,” Pell added, “the chain spell and that creepy evil clone one are the best you’ve shown me so far.”

  Enya reviewed her options again, mentally ranking the spells. Witchfire and Desecration Curse were already off the table. They didn’t offer the immediate impact she needed.

  The mana costs were another factor. She reviewed the mana values for the spells. Reactive Bone Shield consumed 50 mana per bone, while Spectral Chains required 30 mana per two feet of chain length. The most demanding was Inner Darkness Apparition, a hefty 200 mana.

  If she wanted to win the tournament, defense alone wouldn’t cut it. She needed spells focused on offense. That narrowed her choices to Spectral Chains, which could immobilize opponents so her minions could finish them off, or a direct attack spell like Bone Spear. The wildcard was the Inner Darkness Apparition, which could function as a disruptive and draining fighter added to her growing arsenal.

  “Hmmm...” Enya tapped her chin, thinking aloud. “Maybe I’ll pick this one now and save the others for later... or maybe I can make Loppin give me another coin.”

  “His name’s Lorrin, kid,” Pell corrected. But Enya, lost in her own thoughts, didn’t seem to hear him.

  “Have you finished your selection?” A mage, different from the one in the lobby, and different from the one that led them up to this floor, stood outside the door.

  “Yep!” Enya chirped, feeling pleased with her decision.

  “Excellent. Let’s return to the main lobby. Mr. Alner will bring your spell circuit shortly,” the mage said, motioning for them to follow.

  The three of them approached the circular hover pad. With a subtle gesture, the mage sent a pulse of mana to the pad, and it began to descend smoothly.

  Once on the ground floor, the mage led them to a quiet waiting room tucked in the back. “Please wait here. Mr. Alner will join you in just a few minutes.”

  “Okay,” Enya replied, flopping onto a nearby chair with a soft pomf.

  The mage exited the room, leaving Enya alone with her thoughts. She started to reflect on her spell selection, but her train of thought lasted barely two seconds before being derailed.

  Her eyes lit up—not with the sharpness of sudden clarity, but with surprise and significance. She reached out instinctively, and a book materialized before her, landing in her hand with a soft pat. Flipping it open, she confirmed her suspicion: Custodian was finally responding.

  Ginne stood in the center of a lavish mansion, its every detail oozing opulence. The tapestries draped along the walls and the intricate carvings on the furniture screamed of wealth—obscene, filthy wealth.

  He extended his hand toward a nearby corpse and willed his knife back to him. The blade slid free, releasing a fresh gush of blood that spilled onto the marble floor. With a practiced flick of his wrist, the blood spun off the weapon in neat arcs before the knife disappeared and reappeared in his grasp, clean as new.

  Around him lay five bodies. One of them, a young teenager, had been adorned with gleaming jewelry and artifacts—none of which had been enough to protect him. Ginne was the perfect predator for those who relied too heavily on superficial defenses.

  Ahead of him stood the last survivor: an older man dressed in a butler’s uniform. His snowy white hair and carefully trimmed beard gave him an air of superb dignity, even as his blood-splattered suit and uneven stance betrayed his injuries.

  The butler’s fingers twitched faintly at his side. His eyes stayed locked on Ginne, though they flicked occasionally to the woman leaning casually against the wall. Livira, the lady with the wide-brimmed hat, had done nothing throughout the fight, her disinterest as unnerving as her presence.

  “You’ll regret taking this commission, assassin,” the butler said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion.

  With a sharp snap of his fingers, the mansion began to dissolve. The walls dripped like candle wax, tapestries melted into viscous streams, and the once-polished floor turned to sludge beneath Ginne’s feet. The air thickened, and within moments, the entire room plunged into complete darkness.

  Ginne stumbled briefly, before regaining his footing with some effort. But no amount of skill could pierce the suffocating black. “Quite an annoying trick, butler,” he muttered, turning his head in a vain attempt to pinpoint the man. “But you’re going to—”

  “He’s already gone,” Livira’s voice came from behind him, her tone as detached as ever.

  “What?”

  “He’s limping his way through the forest outside,” she replied.

  Ginne groaned, the thick darkness and sludge-like air clinging to him like an unwelcome second skin. Even so, leaving the collapsing mansion wasn’t particularly difficult. He channeled a faint pulse of mana through his body, allowing him to move as though the swampy environment didn’t exist. With steady strides, he walked straight toward the nearest wall, passing through its surface as if it were no more solid than mist.

  Emerging from the second story, he landed gracefully on the ground below, barely making a sound.

  He turned to glance back at the mansion. The structure was in rapid decay—its roof sagging into the upper floors, windows sealing shut as they melded seamlessly into the walls.

  Beside him, a swirling portal appeared. Livira stepped through with her usual slow, deliberate pace.

  “So?” Ginne asked, looking down at his body, checking to see if any sludge strayed onto him. “You killed him yet, or what?”

  Livira turned, and waved the portal away. “I placed a detonating mark on each person we saw already.”

  Ginne sighed, his patience fraying. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his dagger and drove it into his own thigh. The blade punctured his pants and grazed his skin, just deep enough to unravel the faintly glowing seal that had been placed there. The magic dissipated in a faint wisp, leaving a thin streak of blood trailing down his leg.

  “How many times are you going to cast that damn skill on me?” he growled.

  Livira shrugged. “Until the day you forget to dispel it.”

  Before he could retort, the mansion erupted behind him. The explosion sent fiery debris soaring into the sky, chunks of the grand structure scattering into the forest clearing. Flames roared, and thick plumes of smoke coiled upward.

  A second explosion echoed in the distance, far off but unmistakable. Ginne’s gaze shifted to the horizon, where another column of smoke rose high into the air.

  “Well, that’s the last commission done,” Ginne muttered, sheathing his blade. “All we’ve got left is Veraine’s job.”

  “The retrieval mission,” Livira said, her tone thoughtful. “Some young girl, wasn’t it? I can’t help but wonder why she’s so important. Even Veraine’s bosses issued this one directly.”

  Ginne frowned. “Beats me. Helmutt doesn’t seem like he’s got that kind of pull. The whole thing feels off. Maybe it is someone completely unrelated to him that requested the commission. Not that it matters to us.”

  Livira watched the mansion collapse into a heap of smoldering debris, flames hungrily consuming what little remained. “This mission becomes a real problem if the target’s in the lower realms,” she said, her tone edged with irritation. “You know how difficult it is to get down there. Every high-noble house monitors all travel, and sneaking past them will make this far more troublesome than it’s worth.”

  Ginne chuckled. “Troublesome for you, maybe.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “We don’t need to go down there ourselves,” Ginne said, a sly grin creeping across his face. “We just need someone who’s already in the lower realms to fetch her for us. Ascending’s much easier than descending.”

  Livira’s skeptical gaze bore into him, but Ginne was unbothered. “I’ve got a contact,” he continued. “A demon worshipper named Pin. She’s been toying with the mind of a peculiar demon down on the fourth layer. Apparently, this demon was on death’s door—arms wide open, ready for the end—until some scientist scooped her up and gave her a shiny new mechanical body. Pin owes me a favor. She can have her pet demon fetch the target for us. Easy.”

  Livira’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “And why didn’t you mention this during the meeting?”

  Ginne shrugged nonchalantly as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. The heavy clank of armor and purposeful strides hinted at knights or law enforcement closing in fast.

  “Forgot,” he said with a smirk.

  She rolled her eyes and raised her hand, summoning a wide portal. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, stepping through.

  Ginne followed, the shimmering gateway closing just as a black obsidian spearhead hurtled toward them. It buried itself in the ground where they’d been standing moments before, creating a massive crater with an earth-shaking crash.