Carillian Academy’s rare stretch of peace had once again come to an end.

Following the disappearance cases, another layer of oppressive black fog settled over everyone’s hearts.

A literal black fog—the kind everyone could see.

“What the hell is that thing??” On the streets of Carillian Academy, students all turned toward the distant sky, where a chaotic black cloud poured downward in an unending torrent.

The sight made it seem as though the sky itself had been poisoned and gone necrotic, with the corruption rapidly spreading outward.

The chaotic black cloud continued to expand, devouring the clouds and the firmament. Purple-black veins covered its surface like the veins of a leaf, resembling temporary stitches and patches crudely applied to a shattered sky.

A flowing black curtain hung down from above, plunged into the sea, and vanished without a trace.

The Academy had already notified all students to stay off the water and avoid traveling to the other islands for the next few days, lest an accident occur. Even so, the unprecedented sight left everyone shocked and awestruck—and afraid.

The unknown was often the most terrifying thing of all.

“Don’t tell me this is another Demon Pillar’s handiwork??” the students speculated.

“Come to think of it, some students disappeared a few days ago. Could that have something to do with this thing??”

“Why does this stuff keep happening right before the Chosen One Granted by God Tournament? Is this another effect of the double-moon phenomenon? Did anything like this happen during the last one??”

Discussion ran rampant throughout the Academy. Everyone was uneasy and worried about the approaching chaos, especially now that rumors had begun circulating that it was no longer just students disappearing—some instructors had supposedly vanished as well.

No one knew whether the rumors were true or who had started them. Whatever the case, despite the approaching Chosen One Granted by God Tournament, the entire Academy had been thrown into a state of panic. Many students could no longer concentrate on their training.

“Dean, the black cloud has already spread over the Carillian Isles,” the deputy dean reported inside the Order Spire. “It’s expanding faster and faster. At this rate, it will cover the skies above Carillian Academy within a few days.”

“Send the students home.” The Dean let out a long sigh. “We haven’t detected any aggression or corrosive properties from the chaotic black cloud, but we have no idea what will happen once it reaches the skies above Carillian Academy.”

“Send all the students away first. We’ll decide what to do after that.”

The cloud had not been spreading nearly this fast during their earlier observations. The Dean had believed they could wait until the vice principal returned, but something had changed over the past two days. The black cloud’s speed had multiplied. In a single night, it had nearly covered half the sky above the southeastern corner of the isles.

And it was still accelerating.

Worse, they had no way to stop it.

Over the past several days, they had tried all manner of methods: large-scale bombardment with high-tier magic, containment through high-tier alchemical potions, and even activation of the Academy’s guardian barrier.

None of it had worked.

The expanding black cloud had even shattered the protective grand array simply by pressing against it.

The Dean and the rest of the Academy’s decision-makers had been stunned. That guardian runic barrier had been left behind by the old principal and reached all the way to the heavens, yet it had collapsed on contact with the advancing layers of black cloud.

The cloud was like some foreign substance that did not belong in this world, ceaselessly encroaching upon reality itself.

“Even the guardian barrier left behind by the old principal was useless?”

“Yes, Dean. We still haven’t determined the black cloud’s composition. However, the research division believes it has roughly worked out why the guardian barrier couldn’t stop it.” As he spoke, the deputy dean produced a sheet of paper and handed it over.

The Dean accepted it and examined it with a frown.

A barrier had been drawn on the paper, with a city behind it. Black pigment had then been smeared across the barrier and everything behind it, including the buildings inside the city.

“What is this?”

One glance was enough for the Dean to understand what the researchers were trying to convey.

The meaning was obvious.

Everything in this world—including the barrier—was like a two-dimensional object drawn on that sheet of paper. The chaotic black cloud, meanwhile, was the darkness left behind by a brush dipped in black pigment.

Would the drawn barrier or buildings offer the brush any resistance as it swept across the paper?

No.

“The research division is saying that the chaotic black cloud and those flowing, gray-black walls aren’t truly what they appear to be to the naked eye?” the Dean asked with a frown. “That they are higher-dimensional phenomena whose full forms our eyes are incapable of perceiving??”

“Yes. The researchers said the analogy isn’t entirely accurate, but that is roughly the situation. The chaotic black cloud was created by something from a higher dimension. Things from a lower dimension cannot affect it.”

“Could it be a Demon Pillar?” the Dean speculated.

A higher-dimensional existence with a powerful desire to invade and destroy Carillian Academy—he could think of nothing else but a Demon Pillar.

“But Demon Pillars are restricted by the barrier surrounding the Tyrelis Continent. They shouldn’t be capable of exercising their power within Tyrelis.”

“Then if that chaotic black cloud isn’t the work of a Demon Pillar, what else could it be??”

The Dean paused.

“By the way, what does today’s campus security report say? Have we discovered any suspicious individuals?”

“About that... no,” the deputy dean answered. “In fact, yesterday afternoon’s security report was never submitted either.”

“What? Not even yesterday afternoon’s report?” The Dean’s expression darkened. “What exactly are the people assigned to surveillance doing? This is absurd! Did they stop paying attention just because nothing unusual had happened for a few days? They’re slacking off at a time like this??”

He abruptly realized something was wrong, and his expression changed.

“Come on. We’re going to inspect the mana-crystal displays.”

“Dean?”

The Dean strode ahead without answering. Seeing that, the deputy dean could only follow.

The two descended into the underground levels of the Order Spire.

On the fifteenth sublevel, a massive runic archway stood before them.

The archway was completely intact.

The Dean swiped his identification badge, entered a password, and completed the identity verification. Three runic chain seals materialized across the first door and unlocked one after another. The entire doorway then retracted toward both sides.

They proceeded to the second door. Several magical glyphs sprang from its lock. Once the Dean entered the day’s rotating password, the second runic archway slowly opened as well.

Then came the third door. The Dean produced a specially made enchanted key and opened it.

The mana-crystal display chamber was unnaturally quiet.

So quiet that there did not even seem to be any breathing.

The Dean looked at the massive rectangular mana-crystal displays flickering before him. Each screen was divided into smaller sections showing images from different parts of the Academy.

Today, however, those images were unusually blurry, obscured by several dark silhouettes.

“You...?”

At first, the Dean merely found it strange. Then the faint light allowed him to make out what those shadows were, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

The figures hanging in midair were the instructors responsible for monitoring the mana-crystal displays and compiling the daily security reports.

Soft tubes with the scarlet sheen of blood vessels suspended them from above, leaving their bodies swaying gently back and forth.

A closer look revealed that each instructor’s face was deathly pale and almost entirely devoid of life. Every one of them was barely breathing, balanced on the edge of death.

“An intruder?!” the deputy dean exclaimed.

With a sharp clack, the door behind them slammed shut.

The Dean calmly studied the instructors hanging overhead, their survival uncertain.

Every instructor assigned to surveillance carried a specially tailored life-and-death talisman. The moment their lives were endangered, the talismans were supposed to issue an alarm and alert the Academy’s upper administration.

So why had they received no signal at all?

Could it be...?

“That’s right. To keep their life-and-death talismans from activating, I made sure they weren’t completely dead.”

A mocking voice suddenly rang out.

The two men looked up sharply and saw a dark figure sitting leisurely atop one of the mana-crystal displays, gazing down at them.

When did he get there?

The Dean had not sensed the black-robed figure at all after entering the chamber.

At the very least, the man’s strength was completely beyond his ability to gauge.

“Finally. You’ve made this young master wait quite a while.” The black-robed figure jumped down from the display and strolled toward them with a teasing smile. “Oh, not that this young master minds. Your subordinates, though? You certainly kept them waiting.”

“They could have died and been done with it, but because of those life-and-death talismans bound to them, they had no choice but to spend the entire night here as living corpses.”

“Living corpses?”

The Dean looked up at the fleshy blood vessels restraining the instructors. Their ends had burrowed deep into the victims’ bodies, and crystalline light constantly flickered through the vessels as though they were siphoning away their nourishment.

That was not all.

The walls of the vessels were covered in tiny barbs that ceaselessly tormented them.

The instructors’ eyes were hollow. Their faces had become gaunt and shriveled, as though they had been drained until only a thin layer of skin remained around their bones.

They also shared one particularly horrific feature.

One of each victim’s eyes had gone necrotic. A tumor had grown out of the ruined socket, replacing the eyeball and leaking green pus. The sight was ghastly beyond description.

“What else could I do?”

A milky-white insect appeared in the black-robed figure’s hand. It had countless legs like a centipede, while its caterpillar-like body was divided by ring after ring of wrinkled folds.

Dense clusters of tiny red eyes covered the disgusting creature. They blinked up and down in succession, enough to make anyone’s skin crawl merely from looking at them.

“My prey refused to show up, and the bait wouldn’t behave. They kept trying to play clever little tricks, so I had no choice but to quiet them down.”

“Is that... a bloodworm?” The Dean recognized the horrifying insect and clenched his fists.

Bloodworms did not belong to the Tyrelis Continent. They were an invasive species that could only be summoned through bloody, demonic rituals.

Demon Pillar cultists frequently used them to torture their enemies.

Once placed on a person’s face, a bloodworm would burrow into one of the victim’s eyes and build a nest inside it. It would destroy the eyeball and produce a tumor that leaked green pus and bloody discharge in its place.

The process was excruciating.

Yet once the creature finished building its nest, the true torment had only just begun. To obtain the nutrients required for reproduction, it would begin feeding on its host’s brain matter.

The host would suffer unimaginable pain. As the insect devoured the brain, the victim would descend into madness, thrashing and convulsing uncontrollably.

Under such unbearable torment, it took only the slightest guidance to pry loose every secret hidden inside the victim’s mind.

The suspended instructors were so quiet now most likely because they had already endured an entire night of that living hell.

Only half a breath of life remained in them.

The parasites had eaten their fill and temporarily settled down.

That was all.

“Who are you?” the deputy dean demanded, burning with rage. “How could you commit something so deranged and utterly inhuman??”

“You aren’t one of the Academy’s core personnel. How did you enter this place without authorization??”

“This place?” The black-robed figure spoke with complete indifference. “Forget this room. If this young master wanted to, I could even go down to level minus twenty of the Order Spire and deactivate the device containing the [Order] Divine Authority, causing the [Order] Divine Authority you’ve kept sealed inside this tower all these years to collapse completely.”

“Oh my. Just imagine it. What do you think would happen to this world if the [Order] Divine Authority collapsed?”

“Carillian Academy would be blown apart by the Divine Authority running out of control. Not even rubble would remain. It would be erased from the map, just like the Tyrelis Ancient Empire. Heh. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?”

“But that wouldn’t be the end of it. Without the [Order] Divine Authority, the Tyrelis Continent would be left riddled with holes. The Demon Pillars that have been coveting it all this time would certainly make their move.”

“When that happens, the Tyrelis Continent will end up just like them. Boom.”

The black-robed figure snapped his fingers.

The Academy instructors suspended overhead burst one after another like festival balloons, exploding into clouds of blood mist.

“Hahahahaha! It’s just like a birthday celebration—a birthday party, isn’t it?” The black-robed figure burst into laughter at the two men’s grim expressions. “Isn’t this fun?”

“You bastard!” Enraged beyond restraint, the deputy dean drew his rune greatsword.

“How do you know about the [Order] Divine Authority?” the Dean demanded, his expression equally grim.

It was not merely the brutal deaths of his colleagues.

The unfathomable black-robed figure standing before him knew Carillian Academy’s greatest secret. Worse, he could apparently enter every floor of the Order Spire at will.

It was inconceivable.

The Order Spire’s defenses were so formidable that even the alchemy Demon Pillar Erunes had only been able to plan its destruction from the outside. Destroying the Order Spire from within was considered virtually impossible.

There was absolutely no way anyone outside the Academy’s core personnel should have been capable of infiltrating it.

“Oh? You’re terribly curious, aren’t you?” the black-robed figure said. “Curious how this young master managed it? How I slipped into the Order Spire without making a sound?”

“Unfortunately for you, this young master has no obligation to answer your questions.” His lips twisted into a sneer. “You two are the highest-ranking people currently in charge of Carillian Academy, correct?”

“As it happens, you’re exactly the ones I came looking for.”

“Take your questions with you to the grave.”

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.