Mateo walked alongside his bodyguard Kuzaum as they headed toward the harbor. The heavy air of the city carried the scent of gunpowder and intrigue. Mateo decided to go to the duke’s manor first — something in the air told him that was where the truth would begin to surface.​

Kuzaum nodded and spoke in a firm tone, “I’ll head to the port. See if any ship from Thurvien docks there.”

Mateo only gave a brief nod, his gaze fixed on the vast manor looming before him. The ancient, imposing façade seemed to hide a thousand secrets.

Without hesitation, he strode up to the main door and, with a heavy punch, smashed the wooden frame — to hell with protocol. The thunderous crash boomed through the silent halls.

Mateo began searching the manor, but it didn’t take long before he heard hurried footsteps — many of them. Soldiers emerged from the shadows, forming a blockade. Among them, to his shock, was Kuzaum, now flaunting the symbols of Thurvien mixed with those of Huwofin.

Mateo felt the sting of betrayal explode in his mind, but there was no room for fear. He knew he could wipe out every one of those bastards.

He drew his dagger in a flash, but before he could move, pain ripped through him — a spear ran him through from behind, bursting out of his abdomen. The impact sent him crashing to the floor as his vision blurred.

A cold, poisonous aura seeped from the weapon — it was a cursed spear, steeped in the essence of death.​

A cruel, icy voice cut through the air:

“Did you really think it would be that easy, Mateo? I am the king of Huwofin.”

Mateo stared at the king, his pain mixing with rage and disbelief. The spear was yanked from his body, and he collapsed, writhing on the ground.

But the pain wasn’t all he felt. A heavy aura of death clung to every weapon in the room. His Blessing of Death began to stir.

Focusing, he called on his ki — invisible, yes, but in his mind, he shaped it into shadowy hands spilling out from his body, clutching at the deathly auras clinging to each weapon.

He devoured that morbid energy greedily.

The king swallowed hard, eyes wide. With a furious scream, he turned and fled.

The soldiers faltered, thrown into confusion, and some rushed forward to finish Mateo off — but he was no longer the same. He could feel death itself pounding through his veins, his blessing surging with power.

A brutal force swelled inside him. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. In the blink of an eye, he vanished.

One by one, the soldiers began to fall — the dry crack of bones and the slice of steel echoed through the manor.

When the last of them dropped, Mateo reappeared in front of the king, who now trembled, lost in fear and confusion.

Mateo locked eyes with him, his gaze as cold as death.

“You really think you can play with forces you don’t understand?” Mateo’s voice came out low and menacing.

The king tried to back away, but he was cornered. At his side, Kuzaum stepped forward with a twisted grin.

“You’ll never learn what we’re after, Mateo. Our alliance with the clan of Enfer cannot be broken,” Kuzaum said, studying him. “I felt your death aura. You could be a valuable ally.”​

Mateo swallowed his rage, but he didn’t let it slip. He lunged at Kuzaum in a sudden burst, his dagger whistling through the air.

Kuzaum blocked, sneering,

“You don’t even know how to use that blessing properly!”

He tried again to make the same offer.

Now seething, Mateo surged forward with terrifying speed. The blade carved across Kuzaum’s shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor.

Mateo pinned him down and, without mercy, drove the dagger into both of Kuzaum’s legs.

Kuzaum screamed, but Mateo grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Kuzaum tried to look away, but Mateo’s eyes overwhelmed him.

In Mateo’s gaze, he saw nothingness. Death stared back at him — not as an ending, but as an eternal torment.

Terror gripped him, not at dying, but at the hell that might follow.

Desperate, Kuzaum pleaded,

“I see your potential… Do you want to become the new God of Death? I swore a ritual of loyalty to Enfer. If you accept me, I’ll devote myself to you — I’ll tell you everything!”

Mateo gave him a cold smile.

“I see your death. Talk. What do you know about Huwofin and Thurvien? Or you die.”

His hand tightened around Kuzaum’s throat, choking off his breath.

“I… I don’t know anything!” Kuzaum begged.

Mateo squeezed harder. Kuzaum slipped into unconsciousness.

The king, watching everything, hurled curses at Mateo, but it no longer mattered.

Mateo thought about killing the king on the spot, but he needed the man alive. There was still information to be taken.

He bound Kuzaum and dragged him back to their mission base.

Kuzaum came to in a filthy room that reeked of blood and fear.

Mateo stood before him, holding a knife, a needle, and a pair of scissors.

With a voice as cold and sharp as steel, he began,

“Talk. What do you know about Huwofin’s alliance with Thurvien?”

Hours slipped by in ruthless interrogation.

At last, Kuzaum broke.

“They… they plan to conquer the Southern continent… wipe out anyone who opposes Enfer… control everything. They want a world bent to his will.”​

Satisfied, Mateo left Kuzaum to die there, drowning in the blood he himself had spilled.

He stepped out of the room and headed toward the rendezvous point where he was supposed to meet Nai.