The capital city of the Kingdom of Arcanora lay draped in silence beneath the night sky.
A full moon hovered high above the ancient city, its pale radiance spilling gently across marble rooftops, stone-paved streets, and towering spires etched with centuries of history. Moonlight filtered through the interwoven branches of old trees lining the outer districts, casting fractured patterns of silver and shadow across the ground below.
Near the quieter edge of the city, a secluded lake rested in perfect stillness. Its surface was smooth as glass, reflecting the heavens above with uncanny clarity—stars scattered like glittering embers across dark water. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the faint chirping of nocturnal insects and the low, rhythmic rustle of leaves stirred by a wandering breeze.
It was a peaceful night.
Deceptively so.
That tranquility shattered without warning.
Low, hurried chants cut through the silence, laced with mana fluctuations that distorted the natural flow of the surroundings.
[Elemental Flux Sensor]
A cloaked figure materialized near the lake's edge, faint ripples spreading across the water as his presence stabilized. Invisible sigils shimmered briefly around him before fading away.
"Where did he go?" the man asked sharply, his gaze sweeping across the nearby streets.
Another cloaked figure emerged moments later, stepping out from the shadow of a tree. He extended an arm, pointing toward a narrow alley that disappeared deeper into the city.
"He took that path."
"I'll cut him off," the first man said without hesitation. "You lot take the others and trap him."
Before anyone could respond, his figure blurred and dissolved into the darkness, mana concealing his presence as he surged forward.
"Tch… always taking the fun part for himself," the second man muttered. He glanced at the figures behind him and gestured sharply. "Move."
The group split apart, dispersing through the streets like predators closing in on wounded prey.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
The sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the narrow alleyways, bouncing off stone walls as they grew faster—more frantic—with each passing second.
"Haah… haah… they're still following?" a young voice gasped. "Damn it!"
The boy forced his exhausted body forward, lungs burning as cold air tore through his chest.
[Swift Shift]
His form blurred, leaving behind a fleeting afterimage as he reappeared several meters ahead. The spell activated again and again in rapid succession, each use pushing his limits further.
But desperation clouded judgment.
He had no time to erase the mana traces bleeding from his movements—residual signatures clinging to the air like glowing trails for anyone skilled enough to follow.
A mistake.
One that would cost him dearly.
"Found you."
The voice came from directly ahead.
The boy skidded to a halt, eyes widening in shock as a cloaked man stepped out of the shadows, blocking the narrow path forward.
"—!"
He was no more than twelve years old. Sweat clung to his face, his breathing uneven as he stared at the man before him.
"You can struggle all you want," the cloaked man said, lips curling into a cruel smirk. A jagged scar stretched across his face, twisting the expression into something monstrous. "It won't change the outcome."
"You'll be taken away—willing or not."
The Scarred Rogue raised his hand.
[Infernus]
Violent flames erupted outward, twisting and roaring as they surged through the alley. The heat distorted the air itself, stone walls glowing faintly under the assault.
The boy clenched his teeth and reacted instinctively.
[Serpent Surge]
A torrent of water exploded into existence, coiling into the form of a massive serpent. It crashed into the flames head-on, extinguishing them in an instant with a violent hiss.
Fissssss.
Steam billowed outward as the water serpent surged forward, pulverizing stone and debris in its path.
"Ahkk—!"
The boy's body slammed into the wall behind him with bone-jarring force. Cracks spiderwebbed through the stone as pain exploded across his back. He slid down, barely managing to push himself upright—
Swish.
The serpent's tail whipped around.
Thud.
His body was hurled through the air like a broken doll, momentum carrying him helplessly toward the ground—
Only to stop midair.
[Zephyr Rise]
A controlled updraft caught him, suspending his unconscious form gently above the ground.
The Scarred Rogue spun around, heart hammering.
"Who's there?!" he roared.
A calm, unhurried voice answered from behind him.
"I think that's enough for today, fellows."
The Rogue turned—and froze.
An elderly man stood there, dressed in white and grey robes adorned with black trinkets. His posture was relaxed, his expression serene, as though he were merely taking a stroll through the city rather than standing in the middle of a battlefield.
"You should leave," the old man continued mildly. "Before you're unable to."
Only then did the Rogue realize—
The man's gaze wasn't on him.
It was directed at his companions.
"H-How?!" the Rogue screamed as a suffocating sense of doom crushed his chest.
No detection spells triggered.
No mana discharge sensed.
And yet—he knew.
Infiltrating detection magic.
Casting spells without a trace.
Standing unbothered while surrounded.
And that attire…
"No way…" the Rogue whispered.
"So you recognize me?" the old man said pleasantly. "Good."
His eyes hardened imperceptibly.
"But now I can't let you leave."
"Wait—!"
Before the Rogue could signal retreat—
[Luminous Burst]
Light detonated.
The alley vanished beneath blinding radiance. Consciousness fled before pain could register.
Snap.
A surge of wind magic followed, dragging the unconscious bodies into a single heap.
[Stone Shackles]
Chains of solid earth erupted from the ground, binding them completely.
"Now then," the old man murmured, lifting the boy gently. "The inquisitors can handle the rest."
He glanced once around the ruined alley.
"Let's go somewhere quiet."
[Flash Movement]
They vanished from the alley.