Chapter 31
On a dark, mist-laden planet bathed in an eerie orange hue, the sky burned with a perpetual glow, casting an ominous light over the barren terrain. The ground, hardened and cracked, mirrored the sky's unsettling shade, stretching endlessly like a wasteland forged in twilight.
Amidst this desolate landscape, colossal beasts prowled freely, their monstrous forms blending into the surreal scenery. Strangely, they were not alone. Cloaked figures, draped in flowing black robes and masked in obsidian, moved in unison alongside the creatures as if bound by an unspoken truce. Weapons of varying shapes and lethality adorned each of these enigmatic figures, hinting at their deadly purpose.
Scattered throughout the land stood structures—some ancient and crumbling, others towering and formidable, whispering tales of a civilization long forged in shadow. Among these edifices, one stood supreme—a massive castle, ensnared by a serpentine colossus. The beast, its body coiled tightly around the structure, had azure scales that shimmered beneath the orange glow. Two menacing horns crowned its head, while its powerful jaw twitched as it scrutinized those approaching its domain. Vast wings, folded yet ominous, adorned its back, a silent threat to any who dared trespass.
Through the shifting mist, a dozen figures advanced toward the fortress. Fear was absent in their gait—not that it could be discerned beneath their masks. The castle gates loomed before them, ancient and foreboding, and as they reached its threshold, the doors groaned open as if commanded by an unseen force. The serpent-beast let out a deafening roar that reverberated through the land, shaking the very air with its might.
Beyond the gates lay a vast courtyard, shrouded in an unsettling stillness. The air carried a symphony of eerie whispers, unseen voices weaving through the void. As the twelve figures stepped forward, a voice—deep, commanding, and unyielding—echoed in their minds.
"Head west."
Without hesitation, they obeyed, traversing the silent expanse until they reached a dimly lit corridor. At its end, a grand door loomed, its sheer size imposing. Each step upon the polished marble floor sent echoes cascading through the silence, their heartbeats quickening with anticipation. As they reached the threshold, the doors swung open, revealing a cavernous chamber capable of housing a hundred souls.
At the room's center rested a grand circular table surrounded by fifteen imposing chairs. But it was the throne at the table's edge that commanded true attention. There, draped in shadow, sat a figure masked in crimson and black. The mask, adorned with menacing horns and carved fangs, obscured all but the aura of dominance that radiated from its wearer. Another masked man was already seated, waiting patiently.
The mask they wore was a void of expression, crafted from an obsidian-like material that devoured light, making it seem as if their faces had been erased from existence.
Strange, ancient runes pulsed along its surface, shifting like whispering voices trapped beneath the black shell. A twisted, elongated grin stretched too wide to be human, frozen in a sinister mockery of laughter.
Its hollow eye sockets were endless pits of darkness, and from within, faint embers glowed like dying stars.
Wisps of black mist curled from the edges, slithering through the air as though the mask itself breathed. When they spoke, the words did not come from their unmoving mouthpiece but seemed to crawl into the air, reverberating with an unnatural presence.
"Welcome, gentlemen. Take your seats. We await one final guest," the seated figure intoned, his voice a silken blade cutting through the tension.
As if summoned by fate, a portal spiraled open in the chamber's center. From its depths emerged a man—his mask covering only half his face, leaving his fiery red hair exposed. Clad in black, he exuded a presence both commanding and unruly as he sauntered toward the table, claiming his place among the gathering.
"Red, always one for theatrics," the masked figure on the throne mused, his tone laced with amusement.
"What can I say? Busy men like me deserve an entrance," Red smirked. "So, what's this about?"
"Nothing too dire," the throne-bound figure—Devil—remarked lazily. "My oracle here has glimpsed something intriguing, so I thought it wise to bring you all together. The twelve zodiacs and their lieutenants are present as well."
The oracle, the one who had been seated first, scoffed. "You call this 'nothing serious'?"
Devil chuckled, unfazed. "To me, it isn't."
"And what did he see?" Red inquired, his intrigue faint but present.
The oracle's gaze darkened. "A calamity."
One of the twelve scoffed. "Enough riddles. Speak plainly."
"Fine! I foresaw the rise of a chosen mage in the human world—one whose strength will eclipse anything we've ever faced. Stronger than even Mage Blake."
"Impossible!" another man growled, slamming his fist onto the table. "Blake was the pinnacle of their kind, and we crushed him! Now you claim an even greater threat looms?"
"Yes. Though I couldn't discern his face clearly, I know his name and the color of his hair. He is not yet at his peak, but he grows stronger by the day."
Red leaned forward, his eyes narrowing beneath his half-mask. "And his name?"
"Grey. A red-haired mage."
A hush fell over the table. Red's expression remained unreadable. "Never heard of him. If he were someone of note in the human world, his name would have reached my ears."
"So, what's our next move?" another masked figure inquired.
Devil chuckled darkly. "Which is why I said there's no problem yet. He hasn't reached his full strength, has he? Then we bring him into our fold. Groom him. Turn him into one of us. And if he refuses—"
"We crush him before he becomes a true threat," Red finished, his voice carrying an edge of amusement.
A zodiac at the table frowned. "A bold idea, but there's a problem. We lack a face to match the name. All we have is a first name and hair color."
Devil's eyes gleamed beneath his mask. "Which is where Red comes in. He'll track him down. And once Grey is found, one of you will handle his recruitment—or his elimination."
"Why not let Red handle both?" another general questioned.
"Because Red's position in the human world is too valuable to risk exposure. We need him in power for our grand plan to unfold."
Silence settled before a figure rose from the table. He bowed slightly toward Devil, his voice laced with conviction. "Allow me to undertake this task."
Devil's lips curled into a smirk beneath his mask. "Tiger, what an excellent choice. With your strength, the mission will be a mere formality."
He leaned back into his throne, satisfaction rolling off him in waves. "The oracle will continue to gather details on Grey. Red will track him down. And when the time comes, Tiger will extend an invitation—or silence him permanently."
A wicked grin split Devil's face. "Soon, nothing will stand between us and absolute dominion over the human world. Soon, we shall rule everything."
His laughter, dark and triumphant, filled the chamber as the others joined in, the sound reverberating through the vast halls of their sinister domain.