The world whispered of an organization cloaked in silence, one whose tendrils spread across every nation like veins beneath the skin. They were called the Blood Reapers, an enigmatic order that thrived in darkness. Every country held one of their headquarters, yet few could even imagine the sinister truth of what went on inside. Their purpose? Blood. Not merely samples, but the very essence of life itself—extracted, stolen, hoarded. What they did with it remained a mystery, but every drop carried a weight of terror. One such headquarters lay buried deep beneath the government’s own residence. A labyrinth of cold stone chambers stretched under the feet of unsuspecting officials, and tonight, its walls would tremble with the whispers of a secret meeting. Yet, above ground, on the sunlit veranda of the same government residence, life played out in startling contrast. Afternoon on the Veranda It was one o’clock. Every day at this exact time, Theodor and Zarch played their daily game

"Boom" "boom"… The blood sparks combusted at the contact of Roso's vortex impact magical power, intercepting each and every vortex impact before it reaches the blood reaper, forming a huge cloud of fire. And without a moment of hesitation, the blood reaper dives into the cloud of fire, equipped with a blood coat. "Whoosh. whoosh - swooshes" Being a sensitive artefact which produced blood bubbles that absorbs fire and neutralises it, the blood coat protected him. During that time, Roso stops attacking. "I don't think my attacks will have any meaning. I cannot see my enemy's position because of the fire cloud. Moreover, we are inside the academy, so I should not create an incident." he whispered then looked around before he thought. It's a good thing there is a lake. And this was the perfect opportunity for his enemy who had dived into the fire to ambush him. The enemy who emerged out of the fire cloud shouting "Here am I." before he released a technic whose name he shout

Every day after finishing his favorite movie, young Roso would rush out of the house without fail. There was never hesitation, never delay—his friends were waiting at their spot in town, and their legendary game awaited them. Their ritual was simple: recreate scenes from their favorite movie, The Hand of Bliss. But what made their play special was not accuracy—it was imagination. They never forced anyone to play the same character twice. Heroes, villains, mentors, sidekicks—they switched roles freely, laughing and arguing over who got to shout the iconic lines each day. The whole town knew them. Children running full speed down the streets, pretending to purge evil with magical powers. Some adults found it annoying. Most found it adorable. And a few even played along—cheering them on, pretending to be villains, or collapsing dramatically when “purified.” Then one day… everything changed. It happened while they were playing as usual. A man joined them without warning—tall, quiet, s

The leopard stepped out of its nest at the exact moment Bissai Serene had predicted. Keeping her presence suppressed, she followed it through the forest, her steps light and measured. Leaves rustled beneath the beast’s paws, but her own movements left barely a whisper. Soon, they reached the clearing she had chosen for this encounter—an uneven battlefield framed by jagged rocks and toppled trees, its terrain treacherous enough to offer both danger and opportunity. She exhaled softly and spoke as she jump toward the ground. “Little leopard, we finally meet,” she said, her voice steady with a hint of playful confidence. “How about a fair fight? Winner gets to eat the loser for lunch.” The leopard answered with a thunderous roar. Its eyes gleamed with primal intent. At first, it advanced slowly, each step deliberate… then, without warning, it shot forward with the speed of a whip-crack, claws sharpening with manifested strength. Swoosh! Awakened beasts were born with the ability to