[The Elven Royal Castle]
The group moved in a tight phalanx, their footsteps echoing wetly against the stone floor.
As the Astrologer maintained the spell, the phantom of Zesshi flickered ahead of them, a harbinger of violence. The corridors, which had once boasted the intricate, nature-woven aesthetics of the Elven race, were now a gallery of horrors.
Blood was not merely spilled; it was painted across every surface. It dripped from the ceiling chandeliers like macabre rain and pooled in the grout of the marble tiles.
There were no bodies here—only fragments. It appeared as though a hurricane of blades had swept through the halls, churning flesh and bone into an indistinguishable paste.
(Zesshi did this...)
The Captain swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew her strength better than anyone. He knew the depths of her sadism. But this... this was not a battle. This was an extermination.
"The target is moving to the inner sanctum. The Royal Chambers," Sherry whispered, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she struggled to maintain the mana flow.
"She... she is laughing."
They ascended the grand staircase, stepping over the shattered remains of what might have once been elite guards. The doors to the Elf King's chambers lay in splinters.
"Ready weapons," Will hissed.
The Black Scripture burst into the room, expecting to find the Extra Seat standing amidst her conquest.
They found only silence.
"Sherry?"
"I... I don't understand."
The Astrologer stood frozen, her eyes wide with a terror that transcended physical danger. The ghostly image of Zesshi, which had been walking confidently into the center of the room, suddenly distorted. It didn't fade away naturally; it shattered like glass struck by a hammer, dissolving into motes of meaningless light.
"The trail ends here," Sherry stammered, her hands trembling as she clutched her crystal.
"It's not just that she left. The magical residue... it has been severed."
"Severed? Clarify," Will demanded, scanning the room. The carnage in the hallway had stopped abruptly at the threshold. The King's chamber was pristine, disturbingly so, save for a few overturned chairs.
"It is as if someone took a knife to the fabric of the past," Sherry explained, her voice rising in panic.
"I cannot see what happened here. I cannot feel the Elf King. I cannot feel the Extra Seat. There is a hole in the world where their information should be."
A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature settled into the Captain's bones.
To hide one's tracks was a skill. To erase the very concept of one's presence from the timeline of the world was a feat reserved for the realm of the Dragon Lords—or something worse.
"Search the perimeter. Don't separate," Will ordered, though his grip on his spear had become white-knuckled.
They moved as a single organism, checking the adjoining rooms. They breached the Throne Room, a cavernous hall that should have been the heart of the nation. It was empty. The throne sat vacant, looking small and insignificant in the gloom.
They ascended to the Royal Treasury, expecting traps or guardians. The heavy vault doors were open, the metal twisted as if forced by a giant's hand. Inside, the shelves were bare. Not a single coin, not a single magical item remained.
"Nothing," Quinta muttered, his chains rattling in the oppressive quiet.
"No bodies. No loot. It's as if this section of the castle was licked clean."
The group reconvened in the center of the Throne Room. The silence was louder than the screams of battle. It was the silence of a predator that had already finished its meal and moved on.
(Even if the Elf King had defeated Zesshi... would he clean up? Would he hide the bodies? No. That arrogant fool would parade her corpse.)
Will felt a cold sweat trickling down his back. The implications were terrifying. Zesshi Zetsumei was the trump card of the Theocracy. She was the guardian of humanity's future. For her to vanish without a trace implied the existence of a hostile entity capable of subduing a God-kin effortlessly.
"Captain," Tyr said, his voice low and grave. "This isn't an assassination. This is an erasure."