"Tsk. Another pest."
The crimson-haired man sneered, his blood-red eyes gleaming ominously in the dim moonlight.
Clad in a striking black and red suit, he exuded an aura of dark authority, his presence alone enough to instill fear to Those Look Into His gaze.
From his vantage point on the rooftop, he gazed down at the streets of Idok, where the river flowed down from the distant mountains, cascading into the heart of the city like a silver serpent Down Into A waterfall..
A figure in a dark robe approached from behind, kneeling before him with reverence.
"My lord, what should we do with the body?" the cultist asked cautiously.
"He appears to be a student from the Lumina Academy of Hero Arts." The Cultist said While Still Bowing Down.
At the mention of the academy, the man clicked his tongue in irritation.
"The Lumina Academy…Those troublesome Pest indeed." He let out a slow, measured sigh before waving a hand dismissively.
"Throw his body into the stream. Let the current drag him down the waterfall, Make Sure Noone See You Doing It."
The cultist bowed low. "As you command My lord."
Without hesitation, another robed figure leaped from the rooftop, the lifeless body slung over his shoulder, Hopping From roof To Roof .
Silent as a shadow, he made his way toward the riverbank.
Meanwhile, another presence stepped forward this one distinct from the others. Two small horns protruded from his forehead, barely visible beneath the hood of his robe.
He dropped to one knee, his voice steady and unwavering.
"My lord, the Grimoire is fully prepared for transport."
At this, the crimson-haired man's expression shifted, his lips curling into a smirk.
His gaze flickered toward a black suitcase, gripped tightly in the hands of yet another cultist.
Even from a distance, the air around it seemed to pulse with a sinister energy.
"To think such a powerful artifact was hidden in this insignificant town." His voice was laced with amusement, though his eyes remained cold and calculating.
He turned on his heel, his long coat billowing behind him.
"We leave now before The Knights arrive. I have no interest in engaging with the Monastery Knights tonight."
At his command, the cultists moved in perfect unison, leaping across rooftops as they prepared to retreat the Town In a Formation.
BOOM!
Before they could escape, a blazing fireball erupted through the air, streaking toward them with deadly precision.
A cultist swordsman reacted instantly, slashing the fireball in half, sending embers scattering into the night.
The group halted, turning toward the source of the attack.
There, blocking their escape route, stood a group of Lumina Academy students a team of ten, their weapons glowing with enchantments, their expressions resolute.
At the center of the group stood a blue-haired boy, his pristine white lance resting on his shoulder, his face twisted with irritation.
"What the hell did you drag me into, Lewis?" he muttered, glaring at the black-haired boy beside him.
A green-haired girl crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing.
"That guy is at least a three-star demon cultist. Why didn't you call for the senior elites or the Monastery Knights? Why us?"
Lewis, unfazed, simply smirked.
"I know you have a lot of questions, but right now, for Now let's focus on taking them down."
The blue haired boy groaned. "That doesn't answer shit—but fine."
The crimson-haired man observed them with mild amusement.
"A bunch of Lumina Academy brats… how entertaining."
Then, without turning his gaze, he addressed the cultist holding the suitcase.
"Take the Grimoire and run. I'll handle these pests."
As he spoke, another fireball streaked toward him, its glow illuminating his face and the small, curved horns hidden beneath his hair.
WHOOSH!
The blue haired student lunged, his lance aimed directly at the demon cultist's heart.
CLANG!
His strike was intercepted by the cultist swordsman, their blades locking in a shower of sparks.
The battle erupted into chaos.
Spells ignited the sky. The once quiet streets of Idok became a battlefield, the clash of steel and magic shattering the peace of the night.
The green-haired girl, swift and relentless, locked her gaze on the fleeing cultist carrying the suitcase.
"Where do you think you're going?" she hissed, her fingers curling as wind magic coiled around her.
The cultist leaped from rooftop to rooftop, desperate to escape. But with a flick of her wrist, a gust of razor-sharp wind shot toward him, striking his arm.
With a cry of pain, the cultist lost his grip on the suitcase.
The black case plummeted into the river below, tumbling as it struck the rushing water.
The cultist's eyes widened in horror. "No! The Grimoire—!"
Panic overtook him.
'If I lost the Grimoire, I'm was as good as dead.'
He hesitated, torn between retrieving the artifact and fending off his pursuer.
But before he could act, another spell shot toward him.
He barely had time to react before he was forced into battle.
'I'll deal with This Girl First Then, Go to Get back The Suit Case.'
-----------------------
Below the waterfall, at the very depths of the lake, a lifeless body lay still.
Cold. Motionless. Forgotten.
As the black suitcase broke open From the fall Of The Waterfall, a dark leather bound tome tumbled free, its pages whispering as if carrying the voices of the damned Hell.
This was no ordinary book.
A cursed artifact, A vessel of ancient darkness with The Work of The A dark mage Or In rare case a demon.
The moment the Grimoire landed upon the corpse, its black aura pulsed a heartless thrum of malevolence.
The runes upon its cover shimmered with unholy Divine light, crackling with unseen power.
Dark energy seeped into the dead body , began to reanimate the corpse, with its corrupt Divine energy seeping into the body..
But it was not uncontested.
Something else a lingering divine blessing still remained within the corpse, clashing violently with the Grimoire's corruption.
A battle for control erupted inside the body.
Divine light fought against the Grimoire's will, their opposing forces waging war in the depths of a soul caught between two fates.
Then the body underwent a horrific transformation.
Dark purple hair spread across the head where there had once been none.
A pair of twisted horns broke through the skin, protruding from the skull like remnants of a forsaken lineage.
Black wings unfurled from the corpse's back, the feathers jagged and dripping with cursed energy.
And then The eyes, once dull and empty, snapped open.
Not with the slightest warmth of life.
But with a cold, white glow a hollow, lifeless radiance.
Yet, at the same time… it was alive.
A new existence had begun.
And the world would never be the same.
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