The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Kael's room, casting warm streaks of light across the polished table. Albert spread out several sheets of parchment, each depicting a portion of Delcra Castle and its grounds. "This is the map for the castle," he said, his voice carrying both pride and authority. "I brought the newest map and copies of the previous one for comparison."
Robert leaned closer, his sharp eyes scanning the layers of ink and faded marks. "I see… this place used to be in ruins, and it was only rebuilt after His Majesty became Emperor," he murmured, tracing the lines with his finger. "The layout… it's different from the old one."
Albert's chest puffed up slightly. "It's alright. I was responsible for the reconstruction of Delcra Castle," he said, flashing a proud smile toward Kael, as if seeking praise. But Kael ignored him entirely, his eyes locked on the maps, his hand wrapped around the cup of coffee Robert had brought him earlier. He let the two men discuss the castle without interference, his silence a firm barrier between him and the world.
Robert tilted his head, glancing at Albert. "So, you told us earlier that you can sense the fragments?"
Albert cleared his throat and smiled, the pride of a man who had worked tirelessly evident in his expression. "While managing this duchy, I often found myself exhausted, with my mana drained completely. At first, I thought it was just fatigue, but I realized it was… the fragments calling out to me."
Robert frowned slightly. "But it doesn't seem like your mana was affected while you were here in the castle?"
Albert nodded, pointing to a spot on the map. "My office used to be here," he said, tapping a section on the ground floor. "I hate stairs, so I prefer a large, comfortable space for paperwork. But I had to move my office upstairs because whenever I stayed here, I could feel my mana being pulled away. At first, I didn't understand why. Later, I compared it to the old map…"
He traced the lines of the old blueprint with his finger. "This office used to be a wine storage. Beneath it… there's a basement. I discovered this on my own. And I remember… His Majesty, Emperor Reinhardt, visited this spot during reconstruction. He brought a box with him and returned looking pale and exhausted. I could feel his aura weakened far more than usual."
Robert remained silent for a moment, pondering. Sebastian had mentioned Reinhardt's difficulty in handling the fragments, and Albert's account confirmed it. "Even His Majesty's mana was drained…" he whispered under his breath. Then, he looked toward Kael. "Young master… when you touch the fragment, perhaps you feel exhausted?" His tone was gentle, a careful mixture of curiosity and concern.
All eyes shifted to Kael. The room felt heavier, as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting for his reply. Kael set the coffee cup down on the table and picked up the knife fragment. His fingers closed around the handle, and he spoke softly but firmly:
"It does not suck anything from me, but it sucks something dark from my body."
Robert's eyes widened at the explanation. His grip tightened around Kael's shoulder, worry etched across his face. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice heavy with concern. Kael remained silent, his expression unreadable. Instead, he tapped the empty coffee cup lightly, a subtle gesture that Robert chose to interpret as affirmation.
Robert let out a relieved sigh, pouring fresh coffee into Kael's cup. Albert, observing quietly, decided to direct his next question toward Robert. "And how about you, Lord Robert?" he asked. "Since you have royal blood, perhaps you could handle the fragment like His Majesty did?"
Robert shook his head, a faint shadow crossing his features. "I don't know. I've never touched one. But if the Emperor himself became weak at handling it, perhaps even I cannot approach it."
Albert's gaze returned to the maps, his finger tracing the corridors and hidden passages. "Then," he said firmly, "we have to check it first." His tone carried determination, the kind that suggested he would leave no stone unturned in locating the fragments.
Kael remained silent, observing the discussion. His eyes flickered to the map once, then back to the knife, as if feeling the pull of something unseen, something dark beneath the castle floor. The air seemed heavier now, each of them aware that the next steps would lead them deeper into the mysteries—and dangers—hidden beneath Delcra Castle.
Robert, Albert, and Kael stood before the office Albert had spoken about. The door loomed in front of them, unassuming, yet hiding secrets beneath the polished wood. Robert's hand rested lightly on the door, his expression tense. "I still can't feel anything," he said quietly, turning toward Albert. "Are you sure it was here?"
Albert crossed his arms, a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. "Huh… you don't feel it?" His voice wavered slightly, betraying a discomfort he rarely showed. Robert raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps… you're scared?" he asked gently, though his tone carried the weight of experience. He knew Albert had struggled managing Delcra's duchy while Kael was in a coma—handling both responsibility and the strange pressure of the fragments.
"Well…" Albert hesitated, avoiding Robert's eyes. The silence between them was thick, broken only by the faint scratching of Robert's boots on the floor.
Before the tension could stretch further, Kael pushed the door open with ease. The sudden motion made both Robert and Albert step back in surprise. The office was in chaos: papers littered the floor, overturned chairs, and stacks of documents precariously balanced on the edge of tables. Dust swirled in the dim light, and Kael instinctively covered his nose, wincing at the stale air.
Albert darted into the room, hastily gathering scattered papers, mumbling apologies. "I… I didn't have time to bring the paperwork to my new office." His smile was awkward, his usual pride slightly deflated by the mess. Robert shook his head in disappointment, muttering under his breath.
Kael ignored them both entirely. His fingers traced along the edges of the shelves, scanning for anything unusual. "Maybe there are some switches to the basement," he said softly, eyes narrowing as he scanned the walls. "I can't see any door to the basement…"
Robert's hands moved restlessly over the room, searching every corner. "There must be something hidden. This place… it's too old for there not to be a basement." Albert cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I want to show both of you something," he said, striding toward the table. With Robert's help, he pushed it aside, revealing a small hatch concealed beneath the floorboards.
Albert crouched down, trying to lift it. "This door… it leads to the basement," he said, but the hatch wouldn't budge. He pulled with all his strength, sweat beading on his forehead, but it remained firmly shut. After several futile attempts, he slumped to the floor, breathing heavily.
"You can't open it?" Robert asked, puzzled. He leaned closer, examining the hatch carefully, running his hands along its edges.
"I… I know the door exists," Albert admitted quietly. "But I never actually tried to open it. So I never expected to… handle what's beyond it." His voice faltered, and Robert caught a glimpse of the tension behind his normally confident demeanor.
"Let me try," Robert offered, crouching beside Albert. He gripped the edges of the hatch and pulled with steady force, but the result was the same. It refused to open. "Is it locked from the other side?" he murmured, running his hands over the surface.
Kael knelt beside them, his movements calm, deliberate. His fingers wrapped around the handle, and with a simple twist, the hatch swung open effortlessly. Robert and Albert froze. A musty, damp smell wafted up from the darkness below, carrying the faint chill of underground air. A narrow staircase descended into the shadows.
Slowly, they began their descent. "Please watch your step, young master," Robert warned, his tone gentle but firm.
Robert raised his hand, and three balls of soft light hovered in the air, illuminating the staircase. The spiral descent seemed endless, the dim glow reflecting off the damp stone walls. Albert led the way, his voice cautious. "The basement… it feels like it's deeper than I remembered."
Robert sent one of the light orbs ahead, the glow stretching far down the spiraling stairs. "How deep is it?" he muttered, squinting into the darkness. The orb disappeared into the shadows. "I don't know… but I can feel my mana draining slowly," Albert said, guiding their way. Kael followed silently, his movements measured and deliberate, as if instinct alone carried him forward.
After several tense minutes, they reached the basement floor. Rows of barrels lined the walls. Albert approached them, knocking gently. "Perhaps wine," he murmured, sniffing the air. Robert inspected their surroundings carefully, noting the dim corners and shadowed alcoves.
As they ventured further, an old mural caught Kael's attention. The image was faint with age but unmistakable: a massive dragon laying waste to a city. Its eyes burned with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down Kael's spine. He reached out to touch the mural, fingers tracing the lines of the beast. The image stirred something deep within him—a memory, a premonition, a dream.
Albert observed it closely, his excitement bubbling over. "It's a dragon… I remember the tales. It used to dwell near this estate, long ago, but it was defeated—by Lord Kael himself." He turned toward Kael expectantly.
Kael tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. He didn't understand their words, didn't connect with their excitement.
Robert exhaled softly, realizing the truth. "Young master once fought the dragon to protect the nearby city," he explained.
Albert's eyes sparkled with the memory. "Yes! He was only fourteen! An epic battle… and he won with ease." He cheered, practically bouncing in place.
Robert smacked him sharply on the back. Albert froze, suddenly remembering Kael's current state—his lost memories. He straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I… I'm sorry, my lord. I just… got excited," he said, his smile stiff, attempting to hide his embarrassment.
Kael's gaze returned to the mural, unblinking, fixated on the dragon's eyes—familiar from his dreams. As his fingers brushed the wall, the floor beneath them trembled violently. The dust of centuries fell in clouds, and the old stone shook. Cracks spider-webbed across the floor, splitting the space beneath them into two.
Kael's balance faltered, and he fell backward into the dark abyss that suddenly opened. Robert lunged forward, his hands grasping for him. "Young master!!!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the basement.
Albert froze in place, terror etched across his face as the darkness swallowed Kael from sight. The lights Robert conjured flickered violently, struggling against the suffocating shadows below.
-----------------------------------------
The floor groaned and split apart, sending Kael tumbling onto the other side as stone and dust collapsed between them. A jagged wall of debris rose in an instant, sealing him off in the darkness.
"Young master! Are you there?!" Robert's voice boomed from the other side, heavy with panic.
Kael reached into his pocket and drew the small knife he always carried. He slammed it against the wall—clang, clang—the sharp sound reverberated, an answer to Robert's call.
"Stay there! We will come to you!" Robert's words carried reassurance, but the tremor in his tone betrayed his worry.
Kael took a few steps back, scanning the pitch-black corridor. The muffled sounds of spell craft rumbled through the wall. Boom! Dust rained down from above.
"Damn!" Robert cursed, his voice raw with frustration. Another explosion echoed, then another. "Why now of all times? I wish I had my wand in this situation…" His breathing grew heavier, his tone shifting from determination to the edges of panic. The magic wasn't enough.
Then Robert froze, feeling something off. His mana—it was ebbing, slipping through his veins like water draining from a broken vessel. He spun toward Albert. "Count Albert, do some—"
The words died in his throat. Albert was on his knees, slumped against the wall, his body trembling. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one weaker than the last. His once-bright face had turned pale, lips dry as though his very strength had been leeched from him.
"Lord Albert!" Robert dropped beside him, shaking his shoulder, desperate to stir him. "Stay with me!"
Albert groaned, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Lord Robert… I… I'm sorry. My body… it feels—" His words broke apart, swallowed by his ragged breathing.
Robert's hands tightened around his shoulders. He could feel it now too—his mana was being drained, slipping away second by second. The orbs of light he had conjured flickered weakly, shadows stretching across the walls. "Our mana is depleting…" he muttered, realization dawning. His jaw clenched as he steadied himself. "If this keeps up, none of us will last long."
He turned back toward the wall of rubble, his eyes burning with urgency. "Young master!" Robert shouted with all his might, his voice cracking under the strain. "Try to walk ahead! There must be another road—perhaps it connects to ours! We will find you there!"
Kael laid his palm against the rough stone, the vibrations of Robert's desperate voice fading quickly. The dim orb's light on his side grew weaker until only faint ripples of illumination remained, stretching across the corridor like dying embers. He pressed the knife to his chest and walked forward in silence, guided only by instinct.
The farther he went, the less he could hear of Robert and Albert. Their voices thinned into whispers, then vanished completely, leaving him in suffocating silence.
Finally, the last orb of light flickered—and died. Darkness swallowed him whole. Kael halted, every sound amplified in the void: his breath, his heartbeat, the scrape of his boots against the stone. He reached out, his hand brushing along the wall, then the floor, desperate to find something—anything—that could serve as a source of light. His fingers met only cold stones.
He let out a quiet sigh, the still air heavy on his lungs.
And then—something stirred.
A faint glow shimmered ahead of him. A crimson light, pulsing softly like a heartbeat, drifting gently in the air. Wings of blood-red fire opened and closed with each delicate movement. A butterfly.
The same crimson butterfly that haunted his dreams.
Kael froze, breath caught in his throat. The tiny creature hovered before him, its glow casting fleeting shadows across the walls, illuminating the dark passage in hues of scarlet. It circled him once, twice, then darted ahead, pausing only to flutter back as though beckoning him.
Kael's grip on the knife tightened. His body remained still for a long moment, hesitation pulling at him. Yet the butterfly lingered, unwavering, waiting.
Finally, he straightened. He followed. Step by step, into the unknown.
The crimson wings led the way.