Night cloaked the sky above Avalon Academy with a dark and silent blanket. The half-moon was veiled by cold mist, hanging like a watchful eye in the distance. Among the shadows of stone pillars and slippery paths, a student slipped quietly—Isaac Ackerman.His black cloak swayed gently with his movements. His breath formed white clouds in the cold air. He carried no lantern. The dim light from the crystal sconces on the walls was enough to guide him, and he preferred darkness over being seen.“Are you sure this place really exists, Isaac?” his thoughts echoed. But he quickly pushed the doubt away. His gaze remained focused. The cold was biting, but sharper still was his insatiable curiosity.Two days ago, in the nearly empty catalog room, he had overheard a murmur from the old librarian with tangled white hair. The figure seemed almost transparent—as if closer to the spirit world than to the living.“There is another library,” the librarian whispered softly at the time. “Behind the wes

The air at Avalon Academy felt increasingly heavy. A thin mist hung low among the ancient stone buildings, carrying the scent of dampness and stale magical dust. Beneath the spires and gloomy stained-glass windows, Isaac moved swiftly through the eastern corridor, wearing a loose gray robe. His shadow stretched along the wall, fractured by the lazy flickering of torchlight.He stopped abruptly.Someone was following him.He saw no one when he looked back, but the air... moved. A faint rustle. A breath held too long. Isaac clenched the notebook hidden within his robe.“They’ve started moving...” he thought. “Too soon.”He decided to turn sharply toward the underground stairway. The walls were beginning to sweat with moisture. The slick stones beneath his boots forced him to slow down. But in this darkness, he felt more at ease—more like his true self.Suddenly, from behind a thick pillar, a student appeared. A young man with neatly combed black hair and an expressionless face.“Isaac A

The night air felt heavy, pressing against the chests of anyone who dared approach the ancient ruins on the forest's edge. A thin mist blanketed the rocky ground, and a cold wind slithered through the cracks in the crumbling stone walls. This was where the Order of Maledictus had chosen to begin their forbidden ritual.Isaac stood behind a large tree, eyes narrowed as he watched the massive magic circle glowing blood-red. The low, repetitive chant shattered the silence, sending vibrations through the air. Before him, the Order’s members, clad in black robes adorned with terrifying ancient symbols, moved in hypnotic rhythm.He brushed his chin slowly, suppressing the bitter heat burning in his chest. “This is more than just a regular ritual…” Isaac thought. “If they succeed, it won’t just be the academy that falls. This world… could be annihilated.”Beside him, Elena, a loyal member of his alliance, gripped her magic staff tightly. Her face was tense, but her sharp eyes remained alert.

Amid the scattered ruins and the thick metallic scent of blood mixing with hot smoke, Isaac stood frozen. His breath was ragged, but his eyes remained locked on the ancient scroll clenched tightly in his hand. The worn parchment trembled at his fingertips, as if demanding his full attention.The writing upon it was no ordinary script—twisting symbols that shimmered red and black flowed in an ancient demonic language, one that only a handful of beings could comprehend. But for Isaac, it was all too familiar, etched into his mind like the shadows of a past he could never escape.“This… this isn’t just a guide to a ritual,” he muttered hoarsely. “It’s a roadmap… full instructions… to resurrect me—Maximus Bloodthorn.”A sudden weight pressed on his chest. His body trembled—not from cold or fear, but from a surge of overwhelming emotions. Anger, confusion, fear, and… amusement.Isaac took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in his mind. “How ironic… all this time I’ve fought so hard to