"Oi, what’s that supposed to an? Now you’ve made curious."
The cloaked figure waved him off. "What’s more important right now?"
Leo sighed, shaking his head. Yup, he was drifting away from the mission. But still... that picture.
It was so old—decades, maybe even longer. The oil paint had turned milky, and the way it peeled and scratched off only confird its age.
"Just how old is she?" he muttered with a serious expression. Even though Ophis looked exactly the sa in the painting, she must have been far older than he had ever imagined.
Leo exhaled sharply. "Whatever..." He turned toward the cloaked figure. "I think there’s nothing here... what should we do now? Wait—what are you doing?" His brows furrowed as he saw the figure kicking the casket.
"I an... we haven’t checked this one, right?"
It spoke casually while nudging the casket with a boot.
Leo shook his head. "I don’t think that’s necessary," he muttered. A strange unease stirred inside him... sothing about getting close to the casket sent a cold sensation down his spine.
Even stranger than the chill of the castle itself.
The cloaked figure shrugged and tried to pry the lid open. Its hands pushed, then strained—but the lid didn’t budge an inch.
In fact, the more force it used, the heavier it seed to beco.
"Sothing’s wrong..."
Its voice carried a serious tone.
Why would Dracula seal sothing this tightly?
There had to be sothing inside, right?
What if... he was inside?
The figure drew its weapon and slashed at the casket—only for the blade to bounce off.
No, this wasn’t magic like in the gate.
The casket itself was enchanted.
"Let try," Leo offered.
The figure frowned. "What could you possibly do if I can’t?"
Leo shrugged lightly. "Maybe I’m more aware of my surroundings."
"..."
The figure wanted to retort—but instead kept quiet.
Leo smirked faintly. This figure really was an odd one. He stepped closer to the casket, his heartbeat picking up. As much as he didn’t want to imagine it, a small part of him feared the worst... that soone he cared about... Ophis might be inside.
He swallowed hard and rested his fingers on the lid. "I-I forgot to ask... what’s your na again?" He often found himself saying random things whenever he needed to distract himself.
The figure sighed. "Just call ... Es—"
Thud!
A deep, trembling sound rumbled up from sowhere beneath the castle.
The figure blinked. Leo blinked back at it, his face practically saying, ’Are you sure your na isn’t cursed?’
The figure coughed awkwardly. "Anyway, let’s go. I can sense a huge mana disturbance below us."
"Oh? Yeah? Of course you can," Leo muttered in a drawl so dripping with sarcasm it was almost comical.
The figure’s lips twitched, fists clenching. "Why do I feel like you’re belittling ?"
"That’s just your imagination."
Leo smiled faintly as he pushed himself upright, bracing against the casket’s lid, and walked to the door.
Peering through the keyhole, he saw nothing.
"Looks like they left already."
He slowly opened the door, and together they headed toward the source of the mana disturbance.
The mont they stepped out, the door swung shut behind them. The room fell silent... until—
Cre...
The casket’s lid shifted ever so slightly.
Leo pushed it open by a re centitre when he raised himself using it as support. Dust rose lazily in the faint light, but there was no mistaking it... The lid had moved.
anwhile—
Leo and the cloaked figure raced toward the lower floors.
"Where is it coming from?" Leo asked.
"Directly down..."
The figure pointed to the ground beneath them—which ant the source was on the very bottom level.
The problem?
There were no stairs or passages leading there.
"Well then, we’ll make one!"
Leo clenched his fists, teeth grinding as he drew in a sharp breath. His body tensed, the air vibrating faintly around him—like an engine ready to roar.
BOOOMMM!
He slamd his fists into the ground with bone-shaking force—but it wasn’t enough. So he struck again.
BOOOMMM!
Again!
BOOOMMM!
Again!!
BOOOMMM!
And Again!!!
BOOOMMM!
Crack...
Cracccckkkk!!
The entire floor groaned before splitting apart. Chunks of stone gave way beneath them, and Leo’s footing vanished. He dropped through the opening... only for the cloaked figure to catch him mid-fall. With effortless control, it glided down softly, carrying him toward the ground.
As they descended, an enormous underground chamber ca into view, vast enough to compare with a football field... hidden beneath the castle’s foundations.
Thud!
The figure landed lightly, setting Leo down. Without wasting a heartbeat, they sprinted toward the source of a pulsating red glow in the distance.
As they ran, the figure’s eyes swept the ground. Strange, magical stones were embedded into the floor in precise patterns. ’I see... he used these to mask his presence. Clever... frighteningly clever,’ it thought grimly.
The air was heavy... thick with the foul stench of rot, decay, and sothing unnervingly tallic. Leo’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
The closer they got, the clearer the scene beca.
Dracula’s body floated unnaturally in midair, tethered by streams of crimson liquid flowing upward from a magic circle that itched on the ground to his body.
Dracula didn’t speak, or He didn’t even blink. His posture was perfectly still—like he was locked in deep ditation.
Leo’s gaze travelled past him... and his face turned pale.
On a raised altar, Ophis hung limply by chains. Her wrists were slashed, blood spilling in a steady, cruel rhythm, feeding into the altar beneath her.
"O-Ophis?" Leo’s voice cracked as he started forward—
"It’s over."
The cloaked figure’s tone was flat.
Leo froze, then turned with a scowl. "Over? She’s still alive! Look at her—she’s trembling!"
"This isn’t about her... or him," the figure said, pointing toward the ancient circle carved into the floor. "It’s about that."
Leo’s eyes flicked down.
"He’s performing a ritual—one that drains every fragnt of mana, life, and soul from the donor... into the receiver."
Leo’s blood ran cold. "F-For what?"
The figure’s expression didn’t change. "For power. What else? ..." Its gaze lingered on Dracula, a faint frown shadowing its features. ’Is he trying to reach Stage 4?’
"Then how do we stop it?" Leo’s voice rose in panic.
The figure shook its head. "We can’t. I told you—it’s already too late. The mont he invoked this spell, nothing could break it."
Leo’s hands curled into fists. "N-No! I’m not letting this happen!" He looked up at Ophis, jaw trembling.
"What about destroying the altar? Or maybe ssing with the circle—like twisting and pushing it apart!" His hands moved in sharp gestures as he spoke, desperate to explain.
But reality was far harsher.
"If you break the ritual, both donor and receiver suffer the backlash," the figure said, glancing between Dracula, whose body was slowly energising... and Ophis, whose body looked like it could collapse at any mont.
"If that happens, Dracula might survive on the energy he’s already gathered. But the girl... she will die instantly."
"..."
Leo’s mouth opened, but no words ca out.
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