He reopened his wounds with calm resolve.
As his blood touched the grimoire, fresh inscriptions etched themselves onto the page—silent and ominous.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
3/3
Subject: Hastora Vallois
3. The Truth Behind the Disappearance of the Hidden Dimension in the Underwater Cave Pool.
Reapshade had been trapped within the Nihility Collapse, his mana leaking through fractured reality. That same mana, unstable yet constant, had been the force anchoring the hidden dimension.
But once Reapshade escaped, the balance collapsed. The dimension shattered—vanished without a trace.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hmm...."
As he finished reading the inscription, a heavy stillness settled in his chest—the truth sinking deep into his bones like ice.
The reason the hidden dimension remained stable was because of Reapshade's leaking mana.
Meaning, Reapshade had been trapped in the Nihility Collapse long before the dimension even existed.
He didn't care about its purpose.
But what truly mattered wasn't the dimension—it was the fact that Reapshade had chosen to trust him.
And now, Reapshade was free.
That was more than enough.
However, simply knowing how powerful Reapshade was sent shivers down his spine.
Just Reapshade's mana had stabilized the dimension—beyond comprehension.
What kind of monster was Reapshade, really?
Finally, all the truths were revealed.
He was lucky; the truths he saw were the ones he most wanted to know.
His limit was three, and he'd used all three.
No more glimpses of truth; they were all spent.
"..."
He closed the page and stored the grimoire in his shadow.
"Something's wrong... I feel off."
"..."
"Maybe I should just go home," he murmured, voice low and unsure.
After a moment's contemplation, he decided to leave.
He stood, donned his diving gear, and left the underwater cave, swimming back to the shore.
There, he stowed his gear in his shadow and walked away from the beach.
He could feel his body weakening even after getting out of the Nihility Collapse.
He gasped for breath.
His stamina was completely drained after swimming from the seabed.
Was this the effect of the energy inside the Nihility Collapse?
He didn't know.
The most important thing was that his mana had increased dramatically.
That was enough for him.
He sighed.
"I feel unwell."
He bowed his head for a moment, then looked around.
He stopped mid-step.
A vending machine stood under a flickering streetlamp, as if waiting just for him.
Drawn by instinct more than thought, he approached the vending machine beneath the flickering lamp.
The hum of machinery greeted him as he retrieved a canned tea, its coolness a small comfort.
He slumped onto the nearest bench.
"I should rest for a bit."
He opened the can and took a sip.
He was thirsty.
All the activities of the day had parched his throat.
The canned tea was the perfect refreshment.
"I feel better."
He leaned back against the bench.
"Should I just head home?" he muttered, then paused.
"...No." He grimaced. "Too damn far."
His intention vanished upon remembering the distance to his apartment.
Returning to Vel Arcanis would take hours, and that would be incredibly tiring in his current state.
It is midnight.
There were no buses or taxis he could take to the bullet train station.
"...Should I just stay at a hotel?"
"..."
"Alright, it's decided."
He finished his tea, discarding the can in a nearby trash receptacle.
He walked towards the nearest hotel.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he suddenly heard a group of people shouting near the capital.
The shouting tore through the silence—but oddly, no one else stirred.
The street remained asleep. Only he could hear it.
He closed his eyes, focusing his mana on his hearing to locate the source.
"There."
His eyes snapped open, the source located. It was coming from the west.
He ran towards the source of the shouting.
He spotted a group of unfamiliar men—armed and shouting—gathered in the alley.
He hid behind a building, deciding to eavesdrop from a distance.
"Where did those rebels go?" one of the men asked his companion.
"I don't know. But I swear I saw them last in this area," his companion replied.
Hearing the word 'rebels' made Hastora furrow his brow.
'Rebels? Here, in Solvareth? That's suicide. Even the dumbest criminal wouldn't run into the lion's den'
If the rebels these men spoke of were in Solvareth, they were foolish.
Solvareth was known for its strong military and its brutal punishment of criminals.
No outsider criminal dared hide here.
If they were caught, they would die.
But why weren't the Solvareth guards reacting to the men's shouting?
"...Strange."
Perhaps the men had done something to muffle their shouts?
If so, why could he hear them?
He tried to recall a magic with such an ability.
The sheer number of magics he knew made it difficult, but he didn't give up, searching his memory until he found one…
"Selective Sound."
A magic that allowed the user to filter the sound of their voice, making it audible only to specific individuals who had been pre-marked. To everyone else, the sound was nonexistent.
The rebels these men spoke of might have been marked.
Only they could hear the men's threatening shouts, while others couldn't.
But why could he still hear them? He shouldn't be able to, as he hadn't been marked.
'Ah...'
Now he remembered.
Nonconformity.
He wasn't affected by this spell, likely due to Nonconformity.
His curiosity piqued as the men spoke again.
"Perhaps it doesn't hurt to eavesdrop a little more."
He peeked from behind the building, listening more intently.
"Have you sent troops to search for those rebels?" one man asked.
"Yes, I've sent five squads to search for them."
"Good. Those rebels deserve to die."
"Yeah. I hope Her Majesty deals with them personally."
After eavesdropping, he understood what was happening.
These men weren't ordinary; they were royal troops.
Their uniforms were familiar.
That shade of blue, trimmed with gold—it stirred a memory.
Glazareth.
The royal insignia of a kingdom he had only ever written about in his novel.
And the Queen they mentioned was probably…
Valeska.
His intention to eavesdrop vanished.
He didn't care what happened in their kingdom—whether it crumbled, fell into chaos, or was destroyed.
He didn't want anything to do with Valeska.
He stepped back quietly, hoping to vanish into the shadows before they noticed.
"You there! Stop!"
A sharp voice rang out from behind.
He froze. His breath hitched.
Turning swiftly, his eyes met the cold steel of drawn weapons.
A unit of Glazareth special forces blocked his path—uniforms pristine, eyes sharp.
Trapped.
His mind raced, instincts screaming for escape.
But there was no way out.
---
A/N:
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Over and out, Zalario