Margel Randolph had never been caught. It was all thanks to his signature black magic, 'Doppelganger'. He personally managed numerous hideouts scattered across the country, with a perfect copy of himself presiding over each one. Not even his most trusted subordinates knew which was his real body. This was possible due to a unique doppelganger magic circle he had developed himself. To sustain his remote copies, he had inscribed maintenance circles into the very floors of his hideouts.
In an underground base in a region called Dupri, not far from Parona, one such Margel sat upon his throne.
"Boss, the item from the young master has arrived," a gang member announced.
"Bring it in," Margel commanded.
The subordinate appeared, the wheels of his cart rumbling as he pulled a large wooden crate.
"Open it."
With a 'click', the lid creaked open, revealing the very Deimos skull that had been on display in the museum.
"It's confirmed to be authentic," the man reported with a bow.
A satisfied smile spread across Margel's face as he licked his lips. "Good. Where is Malcolm?"
"The young master only sent the item, sir. He didn't come himself."
There was evidence that Malcolm had leaked information to an outsider—an undeniable act of defiance. A betrayal. Of course, the boy had ultimately buckled under the pressure Margel had applied.
"Boss, are you really going to make young master Malcolm your successor?" a man with slicked-back hair, known only as Number Two, asked gravely. "Ever since he learned the secret about his mother, all of his actions have been suspicious."
"I know," Margel said, resting his chin on his hand. "That's why I tested him. He succeeded in the mission, but he failed my test. Find Malcolm. If you can't, capture his mother and bring her here. He'll come crawling back then."
"Understood."
"He couldn't have gotten far from Parona. Put the skull in the warehouse."
"Yes, sir!"
The moment the men gripped the cart's handles, a 'hiss' echoed through the room as smoke began to billow from the skull's empty eye sockets.
"Wh-What is this?"
Two nearby men collapsed on the spot.
"Be careful! It's poison gas!" Margel barked.
The gang members scrambled for handkerchiefs to cover their mouths, Margel included.
At the same instant, the basement door shattered inward with a 'crash', and a blinding flash erupted from the darkness.
'Exanimis'
Three men caught in the blast of light were sent flying over a dozen meters before slamming into the far wall with sickening 'thuds'.
"Long time no see, Margel," a smooth voice called out.
The steady 'clomp' of boots announced their arrival as four men strode into the basement. They moved freely through the toxic haze, clearly having taken an antidote beforehand. The slender, tall man in a fedora at their center exuded an aura of untouchable power.
"Margel," he announced, "I'm arresting you on suspicion of using and distributing illegal explosives, and for orchestrating the Parona terror attack."
Margel's expression turned venomous. "...Sasaila."
Sasaila Belvidere. One of the Baldwin Kingdom's foremost necromancers, known by the moniker 'The Kingdom's Spear'.
"This is the sixth time I've come up empty-handed because of those doppelgangers of yours," Sasaila said with a smile, setting down the modern-style staff he carried. "I hope this seventh time's the charm."
"You arrogant bastard!" Number Two snarled.
Seizing the opportunity, he burst from the shadows and lunged, his sharp dagger aimed for Sasaila's neck.
A man with gray hair materialized in front of Sasaila, blocking the attack. The speeding dagger vibrated, caught fast between his index and middle fingers. No matter how hard the gangster pulled, the blade wouldn't budge.
'Gh—Gghk!'
"Take care of him, Kajan," Sasaila ordered calmly.
The word had barely left his lips before the gray-haired man, Kajan, drove a fist into the gangster's abdomen with a sickening 'crack'. His body folded as blood sprayed from his mouth. Kajan grabbed the man's head with both hands and then slammed his own forehead into him like a hammer. The gangster's eyes rolled back as he collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
'Haha!' That's Kajan for you," Sasaila laughed with satisfaction.
Kajan, ever impassive, simply pointed a finger forward, as if to say this was no time for praise.
In that brief exchange, over forty doppelgangers had shimmered into existence around Margel.
"So this one's the real deal!" Sasaila clapped his hands, looking genuinely pleased. "It's all thanks to our informant."
Margel's eyes narrowed. "...Who told you my location?"
"Asking for an informant's identity is rude, Margel."
Margel's eyebrow twitched, but he took a long breath and regained his composure. "Fine. It doesn't matter."
The forty doppelgangers lowered their stances, jet-black energy swirling around them.
"Did you really think finding my real body would be enough?" Margel sneered. "I'll just beat you all to a pulp and walk out of here."
Sasaila smirked and raised an index finger.
'Life Link'
A crimson thread of a curse shot from his fingertip, connecting to the foremost doppelganger. Instantly, ten more lines sprouted from its back, latching onto others, which then repeated the process until all forty copies were ensnared in a glowing red web.
Sasaila lowered his hand. "Kajan."
"Yes."
Kajan's fingernails elongated into claws as he swiped them through the air.
With a series of sharp 'cracks', five deep gashes appeared almost simultaneously on each of the forty doppelgangers, and they dissolved into nothing. Only the real Margel remained, staggering as he coughed up blood, a matching wound torn across his chest.
He choked on a mouthful of blood as Kajan shot forward like a bullet and slammed a fist into his jaw. Blood and broken teeth flew through the air.
"You bastard!" Margel roared, digging in his heels to stay upright as he fiercely extended his fingers. "Exani—!"
With a sickening 'crack', his index finger was suddenly bent backward at an impossible angle, and his curse shot harmlessly into the ceiling.
'Refríngo'," Sasaila said coolly, his own curse having activated much faster. "It's a curse that breaks fingers."
With a series of sharp cracks, the joints of all ten of Margel's fingers began to twist and snap, forcing a horrific scream from his lips. Kajan then grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the basement floor with a final 'thud'.
Margel fell silent.
"Good work. Good work, everyone!" Sasaila applauded. The two other necromancers with him proceeded deeper into the hideout, while personnel who had been waiting outside entered to bind the unconscious gang members.
"You worked hard too, Kajan."
Kajan silently pulled the hood of his robe over his head. "Forget the pleasantries. Just make sure my payment is in order."
"Of course."
With that, Kajan turned and walked out of the basement.
After calmly exiting the Randolph gang's hideout, Kajan walked through the crowded city streets until he found a suitable restaurant. He sat at an outdoor table and ordered wine and cheese.
With a soft pop, he expertly removed the cork, poured a glass, and spoke to the empty air. "Margel has been captured, Malcolm."
A robed man sitting at the next table slowly turned around.
"...Thank you, Senior," Malcolm said.
"Just call me Kajan. More importantly, any regrets? He is your father, after all."
"None," Malcolm replied, chewing on a piece of jerky. "Not even a little."
The informant, the one who had contributed most to Margel's capture, was none other than Malcolm himself. After resolving to betray his father, he had gone to the Thieves' Guild. It was obvious the Baldwin Kingdom would be desperate to catch Margel, the prime suspect in the Parona incident. He knew that if he leaked information to the guild, it would inevitably find its way to the kingdom.
Just as he'd predicted, the Thieves' Guild had moved immediately. Given the gravity of the situation, Kajan, who was nearby, had taken the mission himself.
"But how did you know?" Kajan asked. "That the Margel in this city's hideout was the real one."
"I investigated the organization's ledgers," Malcolm said with a shrug. "My father—no, Margel—uses a special magic circle to maintain his long-distance doppelgangers. Naturally, it requires expensive magical ingredients. Today was the day they were supposed to be replenished, but I found one hideout that still had a surplus."
"I see." It was something only another doppelganger user could have known. Kajan turned his head. "What will you do now?"
Malcolm let out a long sigh and tilted his head back. "Margel will be taken away and the organization will scatter, but they'll eventually find out I betrayed him. Then my mother's life will be in danger. Anyone who dips their toes into this world is fated to be caught in a cycle of bloody revenge."
"That's likely."
"To protect my mother, I have to seize control of the underworld. I need more power." He clenched his fist.
—'If you hold on and endure, your time to rise again will come.'
Recalling that damn necromancer's voice, Malcolm closed his eyes. "I want to go back to Kizen, Senior."
"You crazy bastard," Kajan growled, chewing on a piece of cheese. "Even if you've had a change of heart, you're still an accomplice. Your crimes don't just disappear."
"I know. I know better than anyone that I'm trash. But this is the only way I know how to live."
Kajan popped the last piece of cheese into his mouth, then picked up the half-empty wine bottle and stood. "The information about your involvement in Parona."
"I'll cover it up. In return, you keep this a strict secret." Kajan turned his back and started to walk away. "The fact that I'm running missions for the Thieves' Guild."
As he watched the departing figure, Malcolm let out a small, bitter laugh.
'A mission, my ass.'
Mercenary Guild
"Good work on the Parona dispatch, Mercenary King!"
"Well done!"
When Arthur arrived at the Mercenary Guild, his comrades showered him with congratulations. He smiled awkwardly, scratching his head. 'Hahaha!' A mission like this is a piece of cake for me!"
"By the way, Arthur," a female mercenary said, handing him a letter while issuing orders through the crystal orb on her bracelet. "This came for you."
"A letter?"
"Yeah, it arrived at another guild two weeks ago. They asked to have it forwarded here."
Arthur tilted his head, examining the black envelope. When he saw the crest engraved upon it, his jaw dropped.
"Don't tell me... from Kizen!"
"That's a surprise! How did a country bumpkin like you recognize that crest?"
"I saw some Kizen students in Parona! It's the same one they had on their uniforms!"
Arthur tore open the envelope. At the mention of Kizen, the other mercenaries crowded around him. With a pounding heart, he unfolded the letter.
[Kizen Special Admission Notice – Arthur Bleman]
"No way! Arthur's going to Kizen?"
"Well, he is seventeen this year."
"Party! This calls for a party!"
The mercenaries laughed boisterously, raising their mugs of black beer. Arthur gave an embarrassed laugh.
"Aw, come on. What's a mercenary doing at a school? It's fine! I'm just going to keep working with all of you..."
"Tell the truth," the female mercenary said, poking him in the chest. "Forget being the Mercenary King for a second. What do you really want?"
The truth was, even now, that image still flickered in his mind's eye.
—'Arthur! Keep going!'
That broad back, seen through a storm of scattering purple lightning. He could never forget it. He wanted to shine just like that man.
As Arthur pressed his lips into a firm line, the female mercenary smiled knowingly and patted his shoulder. "Well, since it's decided, let's have a toast!"
Everyone in the guild raised their mugs high, even those on the second-floor balcony.
"To our king, and Kizen's newest special admission! To Arthur Bleman's shining future!"
"Cheers!"
They all raised their mugs in unison. Arthur's eyes welled with emotion.
"E-Everyone...!"
"We're going to be working together for a long time. We won't give you grief for taking a measly three-year break," the female mercenary said with a smirk. "But for our sake, you'd better graduate as the strongest in Kizen, you hear?"
"Of course!" Arthur declared, bumping his fists together. "On my grandfather's name, and on my honor as the Mercenary King, I will return as the strongest!"
Dresden Royal Palace
A long sigh escaped her. A young girl in a fine dress stood with her eyes closed, hands clasped in prayer.
"Oh, ancestors. Oh, true gods," she murmured.
With each word, the air around her shimmered. The eyes in the portraits on the wall seemed to move, the hands of a nearby clock spun backward, a flowerpot levitated, and the curtains billowed toward the ceiling. Just as her concentration reached its peak, a sharp knock at the door startled her. Her eyes flew open, and all the strange phenomena instantly subsided.
"Yes, I'm coming," she called.
The door clicked open. A middle-aged man with a sturdy build and a magnificent white beard smiled down at her.
"Molly!"
The princess's eyes filled with delight. "Father!"
Molly ran and threw herself into his arms. But today, the king's expression was strange, like he could barely contain his excitement. The ladies-in-waiting behind him wore similar, eager smiles.
'Haha!' Molly! Look what I've brought!"
He produced a black envelope, and Molly's eyes widened dramatically.
"That letter...!"
With trembling hands, she accepted it. She pulled out the stiff parchment from within and unfolded it.
[Kizen Special Admission Notice – Molly Dresden.]
"F-Father!" she gasped, her eyes filling with tears.
"Congratulations, Molly! 'Hohohoho!'
Father and daughter shared their joy, hugging each other tightly. Her tear-filled eyes scanned the letter again, confirming her name. No matter how many times she checked, it was her own.
'I did it!' Her gaze drifted to the window. 'I'll be seeing you soon, Senior Simon!'
Pentamonium
A girl with short hair, dressed in a white patient's gown, sat by a fountain. The area around her was completely overgrown with thick, wooden vines.
"It seems even my summons are no match for you now," a man in a white coat said with an impressed laugh, making a note on a list. Dozens of skeletons and zombies were ensnared in the writhing vines around him, drooping like puppets with their strings cut.
"You'll be discharged soon," he continued. "You have perfect control over your abilities. How do you feel?"
"Good," she replied with a smile, her eyes on a black envelope in her hands. "Because I get to go to Kizen."
"Indeed."
She opened the letter she had already read countless times.
[Kizen Special Admission Notice – Sasha]
The corners of her mouth lifted into a determined smile.
"Wait for me, Simon, Kami."
One by one, the new powerhouses of the continent were gathering at Kizen.

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