The following morning, the air was crisp and filled with a sense of anticipation. The guild masters and their high A-rank members gathered at the Guild Association teleporter, their figures standing tall against the shimmering gateway of light. Among them was Cassidy, his presence an anomaly. Unlike the other A-ranks who were there to bid farewell to their guild masters, he had been tasked with accompanying them. A decision made by Cole, without explanation, yet unquestioned.
As they stepped into the teleporter, the ethereal energy shimmered, coalescing around them in a brilliance that erased the world as they knew it. The air crackled with power, the sensation both exhilarating and suffocating. Cole's gaze swept over the team, unreadable as ever. Adrien Carter was absent, his doubts and concerns keeping him from this journey. No one spoke of it, but the weight of his absence was felt.
Then, with a pulse of blinding white, the shift happened.
Heat struck them first. A suffocating wall of dry, stifling air that carried the scent of charred earth and stagnant ether. The sky overhead was a restless ocean of dark, swollen clouds, shifting as though alive. The land before them stretched endlessly, jagged and broken, shrouded in a perpetual twilight. The Black Country, a place where history bled into the very ground, half the size of Euronia but twice as cursed.
"Blimey," Will Williams muttered, shielding his eyes. "This is where Cole, Jin Lei the Lightning Dragon, and the Witch of Darkness fought. Their seven-day battle reshaped the bloody country."
Cole chuckled, the sound dry and knowing. "I won that fight, by the way."
Luke arched a skeptical brow. "I was always told the Witch won."
Frank smirked. "Wasn't it Jin Lei?"
Cole simply lifted a hand, silencing the debate. "Let's not get bogged down in history lessons. This is where we'll be for the next two months."
The unspoken command settled over them. Jonathan, ever the pragmatic one, turned to Cole. "What's the plan?"
Cole gestured at the wasteland ahead. "You'll establish a base camp here and start training immediately. The Black Country will push you to your limits. Your combat skills, Intelligence, resilience—all will be tested. The monsters here are S-rank, born from uncontained ether, and they won't give you a moment's rest. Expect to fight, survive, and grow stronger. You're adults; I won't spell it out for you."
A pause. Then, a smirk. "By the way, I'm locking this waypoint. The only way forward is through the Hollows. Good luck."
And with that, Cole was gone, vanishing into the teleporter's glow, leaving them with the oppressive heat and the knowledge that escape was no longer an option.
"Ain't this a load of old rubbish," Will muttered, shaking his head.
The Black Country was relentless. The sky groaned with unceasing thunder, a deafening, unearthly sound that pressed against their skulls. The ground beneath their boots was cracked and parched, jagged with obsidian-like shards, while patches of thorny, rotted vegetation clawed at their legs. The air itself was thick and metallic, dry to the point of suffocation, as if it had been stripped of all moisture. The little sunlight that managed to pierce the tumultuous clouds did so in searing beams that turned anything in its path to vapor.
And then, there was the darkness.
A deep, unnatural abyss that slithered through the land like a living entity. It didn't merely obscure—it devoured. Swallowed light, sound, and perhaps even reason. None among them dared to look too long into its depths, lest it gaze back.
Cassidy walked with the group, but unlike his usual self, he was quiet. Chaos was his element, his playground, where he could dance on the knife's edge with a smile. But here, there was no room for bravado. Among these guild masters, figures of unwavering power and presence, he felt small. A child among legends. His usual quips remained unsaid, swallowed by the oppressive air.
The journey was silent. Heavy with thought, with the unspoken understanding of what lay ahead.
His gaze flickered to Luke, leading them with an uncharacteristic grimness. Luke, the man whose spirit was untamed as the sea itself, whose laughter once rivaled the crashing waves—now carried himself like a man walking toward his own execution. The tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, all spoke of something deeper, something Cassidy wasn't sure he wanted to uncover.
It was Will who finally broke the silence, his voice cutting through the oppressive stillness. "Oi, mate. You seem a bit off. Somethin' on yer mind?"
Luke didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his lips pressed into a thin line. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, reluctant. "It's nothing."
Cassidy narrowed his eyes. That wasn't like Luke.
Will didn't push, but the silence that followed was heavy. Uneasy. Whatever plagued Luke wasn't some passing worry. It was something deep-rooted, something dangerous.
The oppressive atmosphere of the Black Country pressed down on them as they continued their trek, the land itself a scarred testament to the legendary battle fought here years ago. The echoes of that war still lingered, etched into the broken terrain, whispering through the unnatural hush of the air.
Cassidy couldn't shake the feeling that something weighed heavily on Luke's mind. He had known Luke for years, though they had never been particularly close. Yet, he had observed him enough to know that this was different. Luke had always been enigmatic, but this silence wasn't mere contemplation—it was tension, coiled and waiting to snap.
They stopped to rest on a rocky outcrop, and Will, ever the one to break the silence, leaned against a boulder with deceptive ease. His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "Come on, mate. You've been quiet as a mouse since we got here. What's eatin' ya?"
Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just… this place. It reminds me of the Black Gate."
"The Black Gate?" Cassidy echoed, his attention sharpening. He had heard rumors—everyone had. "You've been there?"
Luke's expression darkened, and for a moment, Cassidy thought he had overstepped. But then, Luke nodded, his eyes distant, seeing something far beyond the horizon. "I was born there."
The words fell like a stone into a still pond. Silence stretched between them, thick with shock. Even the seasoned guild masters looked surprised. The Black Gate was a place of nightmares, a fortress of legend. That someone had not only been born there but escaped? It was almost inconceivable.
"It's not a place you can just leave," Luke continued, his voice laced with something bitter. "Not unless you fight. And even then, it's never really behind you."
Will crossed his arms, studying Luke with newfound scrutiny. "That why you're so on edge? You think we're headin' back?"
Luke shook his head, but his shoulders remained taut. "No. But this place… it's too familiar. The Black Country, this environment—it's too much like the Gate. And when you've been through what I have… you never really forget. You can't forget."
The weight of his words settled over them, tangible and unshakable. Cassidy felt a new sense of admiration for Luke, but also unease. The man was strong—one of the best among them—but the ghosts of his past weren't gone. And now, they seemed to be stirring.
They pressed on in silence, the landscape around them becoming more sinister with every step. The sky darkened, the air thickened, and the waypoint still lay far ahead. When they reached the edge of a twisted, blackened forest, Will halted, his expression grim.
"This is it," he announced. The trees loomed, skeletal sentinels tangled in a mess of knotted branches. "This forest'll take us to the next waypoint, but it ain't gonna be a walk in the park. Stay sharp."
Will had a knack for scouting ahead—one of his peculiar gifts—but even he seemed unsettled. That did not bode well.
As they stepped into the forest, the temperature dropped sharply. Their breath misted in the air, and their footsteps were swallowed by a thick layer of dead leaves. The path was narrow, winding through dense underbrush, forcing them to walk single file.
Cassidy lingered at the back, nerves on edge. Every shadow seemed to move, every rustle sounded like a warning. He wasn't used to this—this silence laced with invisible threats. It set his teeth on edge.
Luke took point, his posture rigid but controlled, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Despite the ominous surroundings, there was a steadiness to him now. Leading the group grounded him, gave him purpose. But Cassidy couldn't ignore the nagging sense that something was watching them.
Deeper into the forest they went, the canopy above growing thicker, choking out what little light remained. The path twisted unpredictably, gnarled roots seeming to reach for their feet. The deeper they ventured, the more the darkness seemed to pulse—alive, sentient, aware.
Then, a whisper.
Cassidy froze, his breath catching in his throat. It was faint, just at the edge of hearing, but unmistakable. A voice, just beyond the veil of darkness.
"Help me."
His blood ran cold. He spun toward the sound, but there was nothing—just the tangled mass of trees, the suffocating dark. He swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears.
"Did you hear that?" he hissed.
Will frowned, glancing back. "Hear what?"
Cassidy hesitated. It had been so soft, so fleeting. Had he imagined it?
Then, the voice came again. Closer.
"Please… help me."
This time, everyone heard it.
Luke's sword was drawn in an instant, the blade gleaming despite the lack of light. Jonathan unsheathed his weapon as well, scanning the shadows with practiced precision.
A gust of wind howled through the trees, and the whisper turned into a wail.
Then, the shadows moved.
A sickening creak echoed through the forest as the trees themselves seemed to shift, their branches twisting unnaturally. Something was coming.
Cassidy's instincts screamed at him to move, but before he could react, the ground beneath him gave way.
He barely had time to shout before he was falling, swallowed whole by the hungry dark.