Ariadne Frost POV
The grunts of my beast grew louder as I scrubbed him clean. Frigid loved water. Back home, he’d race off to streams just to bask in the feel of it, submerging himself for hours. But things were different here. The pools within the citadel weren’t large enough, leaving him frustrated and often locked in spats with other beasts — particularly the great serpents, which thrived in Stygia.

The rivers were far from the citadel, and Frigid wasn’t one to wander without me. He followed like a silent shadow, his loyalty unwavering. When time permitted, I took him out into the wilds, beyond the suffocating walls of the citadel. Those moments were rare but precious. It felt like I could finally breathe, away from the oppressive weight of expectations.

I had grown stronger through the knowledge embedded within the citadel’s halls. But power was not what I truly sought.

Master often spoke of the mortal realm, a world teeming with fragile, fleeting creatures — mortals who stumbled through life, plagued by their own chaos. We Celestials nurtured them, shielding them from destruction and granting them the gift of magic. In return, they offered their servitude. But Master always hinted that there was more beneath the surface.

He said that Enoria was a vast reservoir of mana, and we Celestials were its very embodiment, living conduits of magic. The mortal realm served as a delicate control mechanism — its existence stabilizing the overwhelming flow of mana. If left unchecked, mortal conflicts could spiral beyond control, disrupting the balance and causing Enoria to implode under its own magic.

The thought alone made me shudder.

My thoughts drifted elsewhere. The Games were approaching — an event held every fifty years. The next would take place in a few years, and I’d be leaving Stygia to compete before journeying to the mortal realm.

The idea of leaving behind friends made my chest tighten. I’d built bonds here, ones that felt comfortable in an oddly familiar way, almost like home. But, just like before, I’d have to leave. That was the life of someone like me — always moving forward, always saying goodbye.

I rubbed Frigid’s back one last time, whispering a quiet farewell, before heading back to the citadel where Nora waited patiently by the gate.

“Don’t you think something’s up?” she asked, brushing her silver braid over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen Kalon or Damon for weeks. I even tried looking for them in the ‘Hall of Knowledge,’ but that place is a labyrinth. If they’re hiding, it’s impossible to find them.”

I chewed my nails, a habit I’d picked up whenever I felt stuck. “They’ve been too quiet lately. It’s suspicious.”

Nora shrugged. “Maybe they’ve reached that age — you know, when boys start acting distant and reclusive.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed. “What nonsense. It’s something else. I can feel it.”

We made our way to the infirmary block, hoping to find clues. But our search turned up nothing. My unease grew, gnawing at me like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I was certain now — they were up to something. The only question was, what?

Tapping my chin thoughtfully, I muttered, “Where could they have gone?”

Nora’s brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. “Maybe... just maybe.”

I stopped in my tracks. “What? Say it.”

She hesitated, eyes narrowing as if piecing together a riddle. “What if they—”

Dazzled by my persistence, Nora cleared her throat and said, “Some time ago, Damon requested some items. He looked like he was headed to the dungeon.” She paused, drawing a shaky breath. “I don’t think we should go there.”

“Why not? Aren’t you worried about Damon?” I asked with a sly grin.

Her cheeks flushed beet-red, and she pouted. “You don’t have to tease me all the time.”

“Come on,” I teased further. “If you care about him, isn’t it worth investigating?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Even if we tried, we won’t get far. Damon and Kalon are recognized as the Patriarch’s disciples — that’s probably how they got access to the dungeon. We don’t exactly share that privilege.”

Sighing deeply, I clasped both of her hands between mine. “Then we pretend we’re bringing items for them.”

Nora groaned but relented. “Fine.”

The more I explored the Citadel, the larger it seemed to grow. Its endless hallways and spiraling floors made each block feel like a world of its own. Reaching the dungeon felt like an eternity.

When we finally found it, the entrance was a grand sight. From afar, rows of small cubicles ran in a perfect circle, each one radiating an aura of ancient power. Hidden deep within the lower levels was the chamber we sought.

At the entrance stood a Typhon, his lean frame exuding both strength and control. Golden hair framed his youthful face, but his gaze was sharp and suspicious. Nora stepped forward, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “We’re delivering items for Kalon and Damon. They asked for these personally.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Masters Kalon and Damon left strict orders that no one be allowed in. Even though you two are close to them, rules cannot be broken. I’ll notify them of your arrival.”

I forced a polite smile, gesturing for him to proceed. As soon as he turned, the decision made itself — this was our only chance.

Mana surged into my legs, and I leapt toward his blind spot. I caught a glimpse of Nora’s wide-eyed expression — a mix of shock and disbelief — but there was no time for hesitation.

The Typhon’s reflexes were terrifying. His head snapped toward me the moment he sensed the shift in mana. I knew I was fast, but he was faster — mana spiraled toward him like a storm, gathering with alarming speed.

Too late. My axe was already in range, the weight of my strike bearing down. The blunt edge collided with his skull, and the guard staggered backward.

It wasn’t enough. I knew too well that a single strike wouldn’t bring down a Typhon. His mana flared, and the air grew heavy with power. The fight was far from over.

“Stop! Each guard is ordained by the elders. Any action against them is an insult to the Patriarch,” Nora whispered urgently. It seemed she hadn’t fully grasped the situation. But I did. Something unsettling lay beyond that door — a strange, foreboding presence that gnawed at me. The guard, who was far stronger than I, should have sensed it too.

Was he really going to act like nothing was wrong?

I pushed those thoughts aside. This wasn’t the time to speculate. The guard could recover any moment.

“Your healing magic — weaken his resistance,” I called out to Nora, my voice sharp with urgency.

She blinked, confusion flashing across her face before it melted into fear as a shadow loomed over me. The Typhon’s powerful hand clamped down on my shoulder, slamming me into the wall with bone-jarring force. Pain shot through me as he twisted my arms behind my back, locking them in place with tremendous strength.

“I’ll make sure the elders punish you,” he growled. His gaze flicked to Nora, measuring her fear. “Just stay put, and I’ll ensure you’re the only one spared. She’ll face the elders alone.”

A surge of panic rose in me as I locked eyes with Nora, pleading silently. Help me. Please.

Something shifted in her expression, courage flickering to life. She took a hesitant step forward.

The guard’s sharp gaze turned toward her, but before he could react, a flash of red magic surged through him. He roared in pain, clutching his head as his knees buckled. Nora had disrupted his healing.

Seizing the moment, I wrenched free from his grip, sudden energy coursing through me. My axe was already in my hand. Without hesitation, I struck, the blunt edge of the weapon slamming into the side of his head. He was done.

I exhaled sharply, wasting no time. With mana coursing through my vessels, I forced the heavy door open, the ancient wood groaning under the pressure of my magic.

What greeted me was an eerie, revolting sight. Corpses of beasts and Celestials alike sprawled across tables, their forms grotesquely disfigured. Twisted limbs jutted out at unnatural angles, and flesh bulged in ways that defied nature. The air reeked of something foul, and a sickening aura clung to the room — thick, suffocating, and unmistakably demonic.

At the heart of the chaos stood Kalon, Damon, and the drunt, their expressions unreadable amidst the carnage.

A flood of emotions crashed over me. Disappointment gnawed at my chest — they had done something I never thought possible. And regret followed swiftly, sinking deep into my heart. If only I had known sooner, I could’ve stopped them from this reckless, stupid act.

But now... it was too late.

The words that escaped my mouth felt foreign, as though they belonged to someone else. They had crossed a line that should never be crossed. Something unforgivable. And yet, despite the storm raging inside me, I couldn’t stand idle and let it continue.

I drifted away, my mind spiraling toward a single, desperate thought — how to fix this disaster.