"W-w-what are you s-saying, young lord? I don't understand."
His voice shuddered, body shaking under Dian's tense gaze.
I don't have time for all this nonsense. Asking him like this will only waste time, Dian thought as he inspected Balios.
He didn't know when, but two pairs of eyes were on him.
...
"Umm, my lady, please this way. Lord has instructed me to escort you to the dining hall," a maid spoke.
Maria and her mother startled as they heard the voice suddenly from behind. Both of them were looking toward Dian and the others in the hallway.
Maria gave out a squeak!
Dian's eyes darted toward her as the squeak fell on his ears. Not knowing why she had squeaked, he just smiled at her—a simple, quiet, reassuring smile.
She blushed. Her small cheeks turned pink as she looked at Dian.
H-he is so handsome... she thought.
A throat-clearing sound pulled her out of her thoughts. As she looked up, both her mother and the maid were looking at her with worried and amused expressions.
"Shall we?" the maid spoke as she gestured toward the doors of the dining hall.
Both Maria and her mother began following the maid. They were escorted inside by Jones, Dian's butler, but he left them under the maid's care and took Balios and Aether with him—as it was more important.
As they approached the door, Maria turned. Her eyes darted toward Dian one last time before she faded from the hallway.
Her eyes met Dian's, who was still smiling at her. She hid her face in her small hands and went inside the dining hall without looking back.
...
Dian's smile faltered, observing her odd behavior.
Hm? Is she okay...? he thought.
He shook his head and focused on the task at hand. "Butler, I want information about a girl from him." He signaled toward Balios.
"As soon as possible," he added, his last words heavy with command and urgency.
Noticing the urgency and desperation in his voice, the butler nodded. "I will make it as fast as I can, young lord."
He bowed and turned toward a room beside the study. Balios and his son Aether both followed behind.
Not exactly followed... their bodies tried to run away, to resist, to back away—but they couldn't. It was as if something invisible was holding them and pulling them behind the butler.
As the door closed, Dian let out a small sigh. He made his way back to the study, his eyes momentarily drifting toward the small digital clock, ticking away.
**44:56**
Forty-four minutes and fifty-six seconds left, huh? Well, I have some time, I guess. Now, I just gotta wait, Dian thought.
As he sat on the couch and rested his back against it, noises started coming from the walls beside him.
Muffled cries—sharp, strained, and broken by gasps. Metal scraped against stone, followed by a low, deliberate voice asking the same question again. Then silence… pierced by a scream that echoed like a blade through the cold air. The scent of blood and fear slipped beneath the door, whispering of truths torn free.
...
After some time, the study room's door *creaked* open.
Jones stepped inside holding a single piece of paper in his hand. "Young lord, this is the location you are looking for," he said, handing it to Dian.
Dian took the paper in his hands. The drawing was ugly but understandable. At the end of the page—bloodstains?
Recalling the noises from before, he ignored them and stood immediately, leaving the room and his butler alone.
Now, Jones stood alone in the room. Dian didn't notice, but a pair of white gloves completely soaked in blood peeked out from the butler's pocket.
When Jones received his lord's command to extract information about a woman from Balios, he had been a little surprised, but didn't speak aloud.
And after receiving the hint about the woman's location, he didn't ask how Dian knew that Balios had imprisoned a girl inside the castle. He was a professional, after all, serving for such a long time.
He knew when to raise questions—and when to stay silent.
"I think I'm getting old..." Jones said softly as he rested his body on the couch beside him.
...
Outside the room, Dian followed the drawing on the paper and ran toward his destination.
His steps were hasty. He turned right, left, another left—and after walking a few more steps, he finally arrived.
A huge wall stood in front of him. No way right, no way left—just a dead end.
"Hey! You gotta be kidding me!" he shouted, frustrated.
"There has to be something." He checked the entire wall, touched it all over—maybe a switch, a trigger, anything to open it.
But… nothing.
Suddenly, he paused. A hint struck his mind.
Did he give the butler the wrong information?
But he instantly tossed the thought away as he remembered those screams.
Suddenly, a voice chimed in his mind.
"Host, do you need my help?" the system asked.
"Hm? You can?" Instead of answering her, he questioned back.
"Hmph! Of course I can," she answered, her voice proud. Instantly, a blue screen appeared in front of Dian.
---
[ Illusion Detected..! ]
[ Illusion – ???
Status – Weak ]
[ Does Host want to break the illusion?
Yes / No ]
---
Without further ado, Dian pressed *Yes*.
The moment he did, the blue screen flickered and a strange energy flowed into his body and concentrated in his palm.
As if sensing what the energy wanted, he placed both hands on the wall, closed his eyes, and channeled the energy throughout the huge wall in front of him.
A glass-shattering sound rang in his mind. He opened his eyes, momentarily surprised by the scene before him.
The big wall that had stood before him was now half gone, revealing a narrow stairway plunging into darkness. The air was cold—still. Too still. He stepped onto the first stone step, and the blackness swallowed him whole.
Dian's hand trailed the side wall of the stairs, giving him balance to walk steadily in this pitch blackness. His vision had improved after awakening and reaching a higher stage.
But something was restricting him, dulling his sight—as if forcing him back to the senses of a normal person.
Then—*click*.
His boots touched the stone floor beneath. He had reached the bottom.
Then, with a soft *fwoom*, a lantern sparked to life on the wall. Another followed. Then another. One by one, the room lit itself with eerie blue-green flames, casting shifting shadows along ancient, rune-etched walls.
The magic recognized someone.
The room was awake now.
The air in the basement was dense and unmoving, laced with the scent of old parchment, cold iron, and something older—dusty, arcane, and waiting. It clung to the skin like forgotten cobwebs, thick with silence and the weight of secrets too long kept.
Oxygen levels low enough to make people dizzy—but awake.
And in front of him—cruelty.
.
.