One month later…

  Adam sat in the cramped cabin of a crowded airship, staring through the thick window at the endless sea of sand below. Every so often, black specks dotted the dunes, too small and distant to make out.

  A harsh snore rattled beside him. He turned and sighed. Wallace was slumped against the headrest, mouth half open, a string of drool gleaming on his chin.

  “Mommy, is that man sick? Why’s he making that noise?”

  Adam glanced toward the small voice. A little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve, pointing straight at Wallace with bright curiosity.

  “Silly girl,” her mother muttered. “How many times must I tell you not to point?” She didn’t even look at Wallace or offer an apology.

  The surrounding passengers did, though. Not to speak—just to stare. Polished boots, fine robes, jeweled fingers tapping in mild disgust. He could feel the judgment pressing against his skin.

  Adam chuckled softly and shook his head. Compared to their silks, his own clothes—dusty, torn, bloodstained at the seams—looked like rags.

  “Still pretending to sleep?” he murmured.

  Wallace cracked an eye open without moving. “They’ve been eyeing us since takeoff. It’s only fair I annoy them, too.”

  Adam smiled faintly. “Do whatever you please.”

  Most of the bandits’ loot had gone into buying these tickets. He’d thought about getting new clothes but decided against it.

  “Boss,” Wallace said after a while, “did you really need me to come with you to Dratol?”

  Adam arched a brow. “You’re tired of annoying them already?”

  Wallace grinned weakly. “I’ve lived long enough to learn two things: don’t mess with rich folks, and don’t mix with troublemakers.”

  Adam snorted. “Then you’re having a rough month.”

  Wallace hesitated. “Erm, boss… do I really have to come? You already know how the ticketing system works and all—”

  “Have you forgotten the bandits looking for you?” Adam cut in. “Unless you’d rather test your luck with them.”

  Color drained from Wallace’s face. He stared ahead, lips trembling slightly. “Boss, what are we even doing in Dratol? You got family there or something? And what am I supposed to do?”

  “You’re giving in that quickly, really?” Adam stared at him with his brows raised.

  “Do I really have a choice?” Wallace sighed. “You did save me after all, and to be honest, I don’t think I stand a chance if I’m on my own. The farther I’m away from Wazar, the better for me.”

  Adam nodded without interrupting. He’s more logical than I assumed. No wonder he made it as a Captain.

  “I’m visiting,” Adam said casually. “As for your role…” He paused, met the man’s gaze.

  Wallace froze, an awkward smile twitching at his lips.

  “You’ll be my executive assistant,” Adam said, patting his shoulder. “Do your job well, and I’ll make sure the bandits don’t find you.”

  Wallace’s smile wilted. He didn’t argue.

  Adam smirked. I really like this guy. After years trapped with that lunatic, normal was refreshing.

  But the thought soured as quickly as it came. His expression tightened. Memories of the Wazar Canyon crawled to the surface—the shadows, the screams, the weight of Vicar’s stare—

  “Boss?” Wallace’s voice broke the silence. “Since I’m your executive assistant now… do I get paid? And, uh, what about housing? Surely we’re not sleeping on the streets in Dratol—”

  “I’m going to Varidan Academy,” Adam said.

  The words weren’t loud, yet the cabin fell silent. Dozens of heads turned at once.

  Wallace gawked at him, eyes wide.

  Is Varidan Academy really that big a deal? Adam wondered. The stares told him enough—shock, disbelief, a touch of mockery.

  Then a sharp, derisive snort cut through the murmurs.

  “You might fool the simple-minded with that talk,” a voice said from behind. “But impersonating Varidan Academy student carries a heavy penalty. I’d watch your tongue.”

  Adam didn’t turn. His gaze drifted to the aisle, where a young woman in a white dress with lilac patterns stood beside Wallace’s seat, her smile bright and mesmerizing.

  “What a damsel…” Wallace whispered.

  She was beautiful—flawless, almost unnaturally so—but something about her eyes unsettled him. Deep brown, with a faint glimmer of gold around the iris, and a small star-shaped tattoo just beneath her left eye.

  “Are you truly students of Varidan?” she asked, voice lilting.

  “Oh, yes, we are,” Wallace blurted. “We should—”

  A quick smack silenced him. Adam had flicked the back of his head without looking away from her.

  Wallace flinched and shut up.

  “Our business has nothing to do with strangers,” Adam said evenly.

  The woman’s smile didn’t falter. “My name is Elliana—”

  “I don’t care,” Adam said before she could finish. “And for the record, I never said I was a student. I said I was going to the academy. The eavesdropper behind me assumed the rest. You should direct your questions to him.”

  “Pardon me. I’ll take my leave here,” the woman said, bowing politely.

  Adam watched her retreat to her seat, sunlight glinting off her black hair.

  “Boss,” Wallace muttered, “how are you managing to look at her? If you hadn’t slapped me earlier, I swear I’d have done anything she asked—maybe even punched your teeth out.”

  “You’re letting your inner thoughts slip, Captain.” Adam smiled faintly.

  Wallace froze. “Boss, that’s not what I—”

  “You with the white hair! How dare you insult me?”

  The voice came from behind. Heavy footsteps followed.

  Adam didn’t turn. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a lanky man in a crisp three-piece suit looming over Wallace’s seat.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you, peasant.”

  Adam yawned, eyes still on the dunes outside. “Walk away, young master. I’ve no interest in a cliché confrontation.”

  “There’s a limit to how much nonsense I can tolerate from low-class filth like you.”

  Adam yawned again. He’d seen this scene play out a thousand times in fiction to be pulled into one.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Filthy peasant. I’m sure your parents—”

  Adam stood. His gaze met the man’s, flat and cold. “Be careful. I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

  The man faltered. Around him, several large men in black suits rose in unison.

  Bodyguards?

  Adam studied them without moving his head.

  The cabin went still. Then a voice broke through the tension.

  “Fighting is not permitted on my ship.”

  A middle-aged man strolled between the rows, top hat angled neatly, his eyes sharp beneath the brim.

  “If you wish to fight, disembark at the next port. Until then, keep your seats—or I’ll make you.”

  The suited man hesitated, then motioned his subordinates down. “Conductor, there’s no need for that. I apologize for the disturbance.”

  “You’re from the Armstrong family?” the conductor asked.

  “Yes. I’m Dominic Rowe, sir.”

  “Then please, Mr. Rowe—return to your seat.”

  Dominic offered a stiff bow and retreated, though not without a lingering glare at Adam.

  Adam watched him go, but his focus lingered on the conductor.

  I didn’t sense him approach at all… same as that woman from earlier.

  “Young man,” the conductor said, turning his smile toward Adam. “What about you?”

  Adam opened his mouth, but Wallace tugged sharply at his arm.

  “He’ll sit, Conductor. He’ll sit,” Wallace blurted out.

  Wordlessly, Adam sank back into his seat.

  “My apologies for the disturbance, everyone,” the conductor said, tipping his hat. “If you need anything, our attendants will assist. Have a safe journey.”

  A few passengers clapped politely as he walked away.

  Adam cracked his knuckles, eyes on the window again.

  “Boss,” Wallace whispered, “you shouldn’t mess with a conductor. I mean it.”

  Adam glanced at him. “How strong are they?”

  “No idea. But to even qualify, an Awakened must be at least A-rank. No sane person picks a fight with one.”

  Adam’s brow lifted. A-rank… His gaze followed the conductor’s retreating figure. I knew he was strong, but I wasn’t expecting that.

  When he looked away, the woman from earlier was already watching him. Their eyes met for a moment before she smiled and waved. Adam turned back to the desert.

  He wasn’t in the mood.

  At the far end of the cabin, Elliana leaned against her seat, a quiet laugh escaping her lips as she watched the silver-haired boy.

  “Elliana, why’d you talk to him?” one of the twins beside her asked.

  She tilted her head, eyes half-lidded. “It’s not important. He just smelled… familiar.”

  “Familiar?”

  “Mm.” Her smile brightened, faint and unreadable. “Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble until we reach home.”

  Night blanketed the skies. The airship glided over a vast jungle, its engines a soft, rhythmic pulse in the dark. The seats had shifted into beds; the lights had dimmed.

  Adam stayed awake, staring at the moons beyond the glass. Wallace’s snores came steady now—rough, uneven, but familiar.

  A month since I left the canyon, he thought. And I’m still not used to quiet nights.

  He exhaled and shifted in his seat.

  There must be deeper reason Vicar sent me to that academy.

  His frown deepened. Vicar’s lessons had been simple: fight, kill, and survive. Nothing else.

  Could it have something to do with the demons?

  He didn’t have an answer.

  Only the hum of the ship, the soft breath of strangers, and the unreachable moons beyond the glass.

  Adam pressed a button on his armrest, and the seat shifted soundlessly into a bed. The window darkened, swallowing the moonlight.

  One step at a time, he thought, closing his eyes.

  He opened them again to an endless sky, stars spilling across it like shattered glass.

  Cold water lapped at his back. He lay spread out in a shallow pool that stretched as far as sight could reach.

  “Oh? This dream again?” His voice echoed thinly across the stillness. “It’s been a while.”

  Only the soft plink of falling water answered. There was no land. No horizon. No sound but his own breath.

  “You know I know you’re here,” he said, sitting upright. “Is there really any need for theatrics?”

  He smiled faintly. Let’s see how long it takes to bite.

  A column of water burst upward, climbing into the stars. On it, a warped silhouette took shape — something half-formed, half-snarling.

  “Adam,” the voice rumbled, each word thick and wet. “What a disgrace you’ve become.”

  Adam didn’t bother to hide his grin.

  “What right does a weakling like you have to smile?” the voice bellowed. “You murdered your own family and still haven’t found the one responsible. Coward! Failure!”

  The reflection of a hulking shape rippled across the water, fists pounding against invisible walls.

  Adam sat quietly, watching, his smile brightening.

  “Come now,” it cooed suddenly, tone softening. “Release me from these binds. I can give you power — real power. Not the scraps you’ve been taught.”

  “Oh? Really?”

  “Of course. Don’t you want vengeance? Free me, and I’ll show you how to command Omens like a true demon.”

  Adam tilted his head. “I think I’m doing fine on my own.”

  “Nonsense,” the voice hissed. “You’ve barely scratched the surface. Release me, and I’ll—”

  “Tell me where I can find Korgrath, and I’ll consider it.”

  “Release me, you insignificant insect! Release me!”

  The thing slammed itself against the barrier repeatedly. Each impact rippled through the water under Adam’s hands, but he only chuckled.

  “You’re not yourself when you’re angry. Are you sure you want me to leave? Because that’s what I’m hearing.”

  The figure convulsed, morphing into something monstrous: it had five horns and six eyes burning crimson.

  Adam looked down. His reflection stared back with blackened eyes.

  So this is what Vicar meant.

  He focused on the aberration again.

  “Eventually, I’ll break free,” it roared. “And when I do, I’ll tear you apart. Dogs will gnaw your flesh, the earth will drink your blood, and your soul—”

  Adam laughed until it cut off mid-threat. “Why’d you stop? Go on. What happens to my soul?”

  The creature raged, hammering its prison until the world rippled around them.

  “Seven years,” Adam murmured. “And you’re already this desperate.” His smile faded to a thoughtful smirk. “I’m curious to see how you’ll sound after a few more decades.”

  “Adam,” it said again, softer now. “I can give you power that will make even Vicar tremble. With me, that conductor or that pampered fool wouldn’t dare insult you. You’d be feared, envied, worshipped!” Its form shrank, reshaping into something almost human. “I’m you, and you’re me. You know what we want. Why deny it?”

  Adam stood, brushing water from his hands. “Guess today’s not the day you tell me where Korgrath is.” He grinned. “Still, thanks for the laugh.”

  He turned and started walking.

  “Where are you going?” it shouted, voice breaking. “I know you, Adam! I am you!”

  The air filled with the grinding of gears. The sound grew louder as his vision fractured, the world around him twisting and folding inward—then came a snap.

  Adam opened his eyes. The scent of lavender met him.

  “Were you having a bad dream?”

  The voice pulled him upright. Beside him, the woman in the floral dress smiled softly.

  His pulse spiked. How the hell did she get here?

  “Please leave,” he said evenly. “I need to sleep.”

  Her smile didn’t waver. She rose, smoothed her dress, and walked away.

  Adam stayed still until she vanished into the dim aisle. That was too close. If she’d meant to kill me while I was asleep…

  He pressed the button again; the bed folded back into a seat.

  I may be out of the canyon, but that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down.

  He turned back to the window—then froze.

  Words deserted him. Outside, an obsidian tower reached into the clouds, a colossal cylinder that made the airship look like a drifting scrap of paper beside it.

  A calm voice hummed through the ship’s hidden speakers.

  “We have arrived at Bloodfall Catacombs. All passengers stopping at the dungeon, please prepare to disembark.”

  Adam leaned toward the window. The obsidian tower outside loomed so high it seemed to pierce the clouds.

  So this is a dungeon.

  His hands clenched on the armrests. Somewhere in one of these colossal tombs, Korgrath was waiting.

  Passengers stirred around him. The soft announcement repeated, steady and composed. People stood, stretching, collecting bags, murmuring to one another.

  Adam watched without looking directly at them. A shiver ran down his spine.

  They’re strong. Stronger than Vicar’s clones.

  He felt their eyes linger on him as they filed past—some curious, others wary. Even a family of four slowed to stare before moving on.

  What are they staring at?

  “Boss,” Wallace muttered beside him, rubbing his eyes, “why is everyone moving around? Morning already?” He yawned, then froze. “Boss... your eyes. They’re black.”

  Adam’s breath caught. He pressed his fingers to his eyelids, forcing calm into his voice. “You must be seeing things.”

  “No, I swear I saw—”

  “Keep it down,” Adam whispered. “How are they now?”

  Wallace hesitated, then frowned. “Normal again… guess I really was dreaming.”

  Adam didn’t respond. He had already spotted her—the woman in the floral dress walking toward them, her presence as smooth and cold as still water. Two men followed, identical down to their neatly tailored suits.

  “Captain,” Adam said quietly, “don’t meet her eyes.”

  Wallace obeyed without question.

  The woman stopped beside their row, her perfume faint but intoxicating. “I knew I recognized that scent,” she said. “So, you are one of us.”

  Adam’s expression didn’t change. His gaze held hers for a beat, then flicked to the twins.

  “Be careful,” she said softly, leaning forward until her shadow fell across Wallace. “I’d love to talk longer, but I’ve memorized your scent. I’ll find you soon.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Her smile didn’t falter. She tapped the skin beneath her left eye, where a faint star-shaped mark gleamed. “Then you might want to hide those eyes a little better.”

  She straightened, bowed politely, and left. The twins followed.

  Adam watched her until she disappeared through another cabin door.

  She knows. Maybe not everything—but enough.

  When he looked back, Wallace was asleep again, snoring softly. She hadn’t even touched him. Just a whisper, and he was gone.

  Adam didn’t bother waking him. His focus returned to the world outside.

  The catacombs stretched beneath them — a colossal platform carved into the dungeon’s hollow heart. Thousands of lights flickered from the city below, ships weaving through them like fireflies. It pulsed with life, a fragile beacon floating in darkness.

  They built a city inside a dungeon.

  He wasn’t sure whether to admire their ingenuity or mock their stupidity. If they risked it, the rewards had to be immense.

  The airship lingered above the scene for what felt like twenty minutes before the voice returned.

  “Our next major stop is Dratol. Passengers heading to Siena, Warren…”

  Adam stopped listening.

  One month left.

  He leaned back as the vessel began to climb, its shadow sliding across the surface of the catacombs. The glowing city shrank to a cluster of distant lights until even that faded from sight.

  Adam watched until there was nothing left but sand and sky. Then, finally, he smiled.