Julius's thoughts were in disarray. He had intended to feign unconsciousness while planning his next move—how to free himself from captivity. His plan was simple: wait for his captors to leave the room, then break free. His hands were bound tightly behind the chair, his legs tied together, restricting his movement.
What now? They've already realized I'm awake. Should I just admit the real reason I came here? All I wanted was information. But there's a problem… They already know I'm the one behind Caleb's father's case. That means the rumors have spread—people think I'm a believer, an agent of the Shadow Deity, the one who saved a condemned man from execution. If this organization is truly a part of the Dark Faction, then I'm in deep trouble…
Julius carefully considered his next words. He still had no idea what kind of organization he was dealing with or what stance he should take to ensure he didn't lose his head.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the voice of the man sitting in the rocking wooden chair.
"Julius Kors… or should I call you Elias Corvin?"
The voice was cold, mocking.
Damn it… The Dark Faction. It's really them!
Julius cursed inwardly.
No one should know that I once lived another life as Elias Corvin!
He continued to feign unconsciousness, but a wave of unease spread through him.
"Varo, leave us. I'd like some time alone with our guest."
The rocking chair creaked as its occupant gave the order.
"Of course, Father," Varo responded, his voice laced with reverence.
With steady steps, Varo exited the room.
Father? Julius frowned inwardly.
"You're still pretending to be asleep? Aren't you here in search of answers?"
The man's voice remained indifferent, his words carrying a quiet menace.
Damn it… This situation is spiraling out of my control. He already knows why I'm here—and worse, who I am.
Julius clenched his jaw.
The reality was clear: he was a prisoner, trapped in the grasp of this organization. And the man before him wasn't just guessing—he was revealing secrets no one else should know. That alone made him dangerous.
With a deep breath, Julius decided to confront him head-on. He opened his eyes, lifting his head with a sharp gaze, locking onto the man before him.
The sight was unsettling.
A figure draped in dark navy robes, their design resembling something religious, yet twisted. His face was obscured by an eerie mask, one that seemed inspired by ancient myths—like the visage of a forgotten beast. He sat lazily in his rocking chair, its wooden frame creaking softly. Beside him, a massive, shaggy gray hound rested on the floor. Its glowing red eyes shimmered with a quiet intelligence, exuding an aura of silent menace.
Julius swallowed before speaking, keeping his tone cool.
"What do you mean by Elias Corvin?"
Then, with feigned amusement, he added, "I am Julius Kors, a Silver Knight of the Cathedral. I expected an organization like yours to have more reliable intelligence. It seems I overestimated you."
It was a gamble—an attempt to mislead and buy time.
The man in the rocking chair chuckled, the sound low and knowing.
"Hmph… Stubborn, aren't you? Clinging to deception, even though I've already pierced through the truth. You are Elias Corvin."
His voice was unwavering.
"In fact, to be precise, you were once known as Elias Corvin. But that name was never truly yours to begin with, was it?"
He knows… This isn't a mere accusation. He actually knows who I am!
Julius's mind reeled, struggling to comprehend how this man had such forbidden knowledge. His pulse quickened.
Then, the man laughed—a deep, knowing chuckle.
"Hahaha… I know far more than you'd expect. The fact that you lived another life, died as Elias Corvin, and were reborn as Julius Kors… That is merely the beginning."
Julius inhaled sharply.
This man… He's not ordinary. He holds knowledge beyond what this world should even comprehend.
Still, if he had answers… then perhaps this was an opportunity.
"Can you give me the answers I seek?"
"Free of charge? Hah!" The man scoffed, his rocking chair creaking once more.
Julius tensed. "If it's money you want, I don't have much. But if you give me time, I can—"
"Hahaha! Money?" The masked man's laughter was almost mocking. "No, no, your little coins are worthless here."
His tone shifted, becoming firm.
"In this place, we trade differently. Instead of money, you may offer us rare knowledge of the arcane, secrets unknown to the world… or you may render your services to our organization."
Julius's heart pounded.
"And remember," the man added, "the price of each answer depends on the value of the question you ask."
Damn it… This is nothing like what I imagined.
I don't know much about this world yet. I've only just begun learning magic—there's no way I can offer them something rare.
And offering my services to this organization?
I still don't even know what they truly are.
Are they really a part of the Dark Faction?
Julius remained silent, his mind racing. This was a high-stakes game. One wrong move, and he could end up in a far worse predicament than he already was.
Julius pondered deeply over what information he should reveal to the man in front of him. For a moment, he recalled the Violet Elixir—a concoction forged through the divine power of the Forbidden Throne. A mysterious artifact… something no one else in the world knew about.
It was a convincing theory. After all, the Heavenly Hall was detached from the world, and the power that birthed this elixir was purely divine. Julius made a decision. He would take the risk and see where it led.
"I possess a rare elixir," he declared with confidence. "One that can heal any wound, no matter how severe."
Even though he had tested it on himself, he was still uncertain about its effectiveness on truly rare injuries.
"Hmm… You're offering an elixir in exchange for an answer to your question? A fair trade." The mysterious man leaned forward slightly. "Where is this elixir?"
"It's in my coat. If you undo my bindings, I'll hand it over," Julius replied coolly.
The man chuckled. "Good, good… I shall free you."
With a mere flick of his finger, the ground beneath Julius' chair glowed, ancient runes shifting and reforming in a hypnotic pattern. Then, as if they had never existed, the ropes binding his arms and legs unraveled into nothingness.
A high-level sorcerer… He only had to lift a finger to undo an enchantment.
"Don't make any reckless moves." The man's tone carried an unspoken threat.
Julius understood. He had no intention of resisting. He only sought a satisfactory deal—answers for his questions. If things went awry, he would simply activate the seal and escape to the Heavenly Hall.
With cautious movements, he reached into his coat and retrieved the elixir, stepping forward to present it.
The moment he moved, the hound beside the man locked its gaze onto him.
Its predatory eyes seemed to whisper a silent warning: One wrong move, and I'll tear your throat out.
Don't look at me. Don't look at me… Julius mumbled internally, resisting the urge to shudder.
The mysterious man took the elixir, and Julius quickly retreated, resuming his seat while avoiding the beast's piercing gaze.
"Hmm… a rather enigmatic artifact," the man mused, examining the vial. Then, without warning, the elixir vanished from his grasp.
"Where did it go?" he asked, a flicker of intrigue in his tone.
"Don't worry," he continued before Julius could speak. "I've sent it to one of my subordinates to verify its authenticity. In the meantime, let's hear your question."
Julius narrowed his eyes. He had only one opportunity. One crucial question that had plagued his thoughts for too long.
He took a deep breath and spoke.
"Then allow me to ask, sir—how do you know that I was reincarnated? First as Elias Corvin, and now as Julius Cross?"
His words carried a hidden intent. The answer would reveal information not just about the organization before him, but also about the truth behind Elias Corvin and Julius Cross.
The man chuckled. "A good question. A fascinating beginning…"
Then, his tone turned solemn.
"We are The Brotherhood of Silence."
"Our organization has existed for centuries. Not even the government, the Sky Association, or the Grand Cathedral have been able to locate our headquarters or branches. As such, we have borne witness to the world's deepest secrets, passed down by our ancestors and trusted allies."
Julius listened attentively as the man continued.
"To answer your question… Centuries ago, there were three great churches—The Church of the Night, The Church of the Sun, and The Church of Truth."
"They were locked in constant theological conflict, debating the true god, the creation of the world, and the purpose of mankind. But despite their differences, they all agreed on one thing."
Julius tensed.
"There was a prophecy."
The man's voice turned solemn as he recited:
"Believers, a time will come when a man shall rise, carrying the memories of the lost era. He will restore the world to its rightful path. When he arrives, obey his commands without hesitation, for he holds the key."
The words struck Julius like a bolt of lightning.
They felt… familiar. Had he heard them before? No… More than that—he had the unsettling sense that he was the subject of that prophecy.
The mysterious man smirked, continuing his tale.
"Despite the prophecy, the three churches remained divided. But on the day they finally decided to unite and follow its guidance… disaster struck."
"The Cathedral of the Night, where they gathered, became a scene of slaughter. Every believer was massacred."
Julius' breath hitched.
This… wasn't it eerily similar to what happened to the Six Kings? They had vanished at the moment of their fateful meeting, leaving only the King of Darkness behind…
Could it have been the work of the Faction of Darkness?
Julius clenched his fists. If they were involved in the church massacre, then…
The man continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia, as if he had witnessed those events himself.
"The churches burned. We attempted to salvage their scriptures, but only fragments remained. The Books of the Sun and Truth were completely lost. However, we managed to preserve a copy of the Book of the Night before its destruction."
He leaned back, watching Julius carefully.
"Within its pages, the prophecy detailed a chosen one named Elias Corvin, who would be reincarnated under a new name. It also mentioned…"
His eyes gleamed.
"He shall speak the name of a forgotten king—The King of Shadows."
Julius inhaled sharply.
So that's why they suspect me.
He had drawn attention to himself ever since the incident involving Caleb's father—the first person in centuries to mention the King of Shadows.
The man smirked.
"That is why I suspected you. But I wasn't entirely convinced… until now."
Julius felt a chill run down his spine.
Damn it… He was only guessing, but my question confirmed his suspicions!
Suppressing his frustration, he glared at the man.
"Don't look at me like that, young man," the mysterious figure said with amusement. "I wasn't deceiving you. I've given you answers in good faith."
Then his tone grew indifferent. "And don't worry. I have no interest in interfering with your life. I care little for prophecies. What does interest me… is information. And profit."
At that moment, the door creaked open.
A man named Faro entered, bowing slightly. "The elixir has been verified."
The mysterious figure exhaled. "Hmm… This is not good."
Julius frowned. Was there something wrong with the Violet Elixir?
"It's certainly a rare elixir," the man admitted. "But it's insufficient payment for the information I've provided. Do you have anything else to offer?"
Julius' heart sank.
"Insufficient…?"
He had nothing else of value. No ancient secrets, no esoteric knowledge of the world's mysteries. He had only sought answers.
The man's voice turned cold.
"If you have nothing more to trade… then you must complete a task for us."
Faro tossed a sealed envelope onto the table.
"This contains the details of your mission. If you refuse or attempt to escape… we will hunt you down."
Julius clenched his fists. He had no choice. This was his only way out.
Still, accepting a task without knowing the details… was that wise?
As he weighed his options, the mysterious man spoke.
"Faro, take him outside. Our business is concluded."
Faro nodded and seized Julius by his coat, dragging him toward the exit.
Julius gritted his teeth. Damn it, he's strong. He lifted me effortlessly!
The next moment, his vision blurred.
A spell? A sensory blockade?
Then—
Thud!
Julius hit the ground hard.
Tch... My back!
Julius gritted his teeth as he hit the ground hard. That bastard had thrown him down without a shred of mercy. He cursed under his breath, seething with frustration.
Meanwhile, back inside the dimly lit chamber beneath the Moon Tavern, Faro approached the masked man, his expression unreadable.
"Father, why assign him a mission? The elixir he gave us was powerful—it healed Karima's wounds, ones that no other potion had been able to treat!"
The masked man leaned back in his chair, his voice laced with amusement and indifference.
"I know it's a rare elixir. But that boy is an ignorant fool—he doesn't even know how to negotiate a proper deal. That's not my problem. Besides..." The man chuckled, his tone turning sinister. "This is a perfect chance to have that difficult mission carried out, the one so many of our agents have failed to complete."
Faro's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you really think he'll be able to pull it off? He's nothing but a one-circle sorcerer."
The masked man let out a low, mocking laugh. "If he fails, he dies. It's of no concern to me. Consider it a test—if he truly is the chosen one from the prophecy, he should be able to survive, don't you think?"
A wicked grin curled beneath his mask. "Either way, this should be entertaining."
—
Outside the Moon Tavern, Julius stood beneath the pale glow of the street lamps, holding a sealed letter in his hands. The wax seal bore an unfamiliar arcane symbol, radiating an unsettling aura.
He wasted no time, tearing it open with urgency. He needed to know what kind of trouble he had just been dragged into.
At first, the parchment appeared blank. His brows furrowed. Did that bastard trick me?
But then, as if responding to his doubts, glowing letters began to materialize, one after another, forming words in an ominous, golden script.
At the very top, a single line shone with eerie brilliance:
"ASSASSINATION TARGET: COUNT LONI KEITH."
Julius's breath hitched.
"An assassination mission?!"
His voice barely contained his shock.