Soren sat atop the slanted roof of a tall tower, overlooking the rest of the ruined city. The fog rolled down the streets from every corner and alley, as the morning hours continued to pass. Though, the only real difference from all the previous days would be how busy everyone was…

More and more street stalls opened up in anticipation of the expedition's return. Today… was that fated day.

The day the heist finally begins.

"Are you ready?" A childish voice entered his mind as he looked down at the gathering of the crowds… Their chaotic steps reflected the anxious feelings overwhelming his mind… He took a deep breath then sighed.

"As ready as can be."

Aside from perfecting the Fairy Blades spell, which he had finally achieved, there was nothing else left to really do… Aside from waiting. Every single preparation was completed. He glanced up at the distant stalactite carrying the Blood Amulet and frowned.

"Should I be saying a prayer right about now?"

"I thought you didn't believe in any god?"

Soren scoffed, "I'll believe in anything as long as it benefits me."

Myrin played his flute joyfully, surrounded by smiling faces and the banter of countless explorers. Their moods reflecting the results of their expedition—an astounding success.

He marched forward as the navigators blew the Forgotten Paths dust ahead of them. Soon, they would arrive back in the Safe Zone. Many of the people there carried bags or pulled on wooden carts full of recovered goods. The only person relatively empty-handed was Myrin, who only gained a few things for him to keep in his Spatial Bracelet.

Turning another corner in the dungeon, Myrin's song finally ended in thunderous applause and vibrant cheers.

"Brother Myrin! Are all magi able to do things like this? Your music is truly miraculous!"

"After we return, you should join our guild! We'll treat you well!"

"Join you guys? Are you delusional—you can't even afford a proper sword!"

"Shut the hell up!"

Their laughter echoed across the cobblestone walls. Seeing this, Myrin smiled and turned to Julien who was standing next to him.

"Are you sure it's okay to be this loud? It might attract monsters here."

Julien shrugged, "We've been out in the dungeon for so long—not once were we attacked by anything powerful. I am sure it will be fine." He glanced at the front of the expeditionary force. A colossal man that looked to be half-giant half-human led the pack with confidence. "Besides," he continued with a smile, "We have Rodrick—I doubt any creature here would even dare to attack with him around…"

Myrin glanced at the Dungeon Slayer keenly, as if observing a beast. His lips slowly sinking into a frown.

"Indeed… Defeating him is difficult."

"Hm? Did you say something?" Julien looked at him and smiled. Seeing this, Myrin shook his head:

"No, I was simply saying you are right."

And in a way, he was indeed right. Although he still had no clue what exactly Soren was planning, he did know that whatever it was, it would certainly create some kind of conflict between them and Rodrick Whitguard…

I wonder if Soren is even ready to enact his plan… More and more anxiety built up in his chest with every step closer they took. Still—he needed to trust in his partner. After all, everything he had speculated about the expedition turned out to be true.

Rodrick was so suspicious of Myrin during their entire exploration of the Hall of Death, that he made sure to keep him just in reach no matter where he went… It was fairly obvious too—as if Rodrick wanted him to know that he was suspicious of his actions. With no true freedom of movement, Myrin had to keep to himself the entire time.

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And now that they were finally returning back to the Safe Zone, just as Soren had expected, that suspicion was now gone… As if his attention was on something else entirely…

Rodrick… He must be wondering about why Soren stayed behind…

"By the way!" Julien's words broke him from his reverie. "I heard that the elven festival of yours is starting soon as well, right? The one named Yasini's Paradise?"

Myrin chuckled, "It already started yesterday. A lot of celebrations are occurring around this time across the Feylith Forest."

The young man with the bandana nodded. "Yes—I heard the Aelloran government negotiated a temporary peace treaty around this time too. To maintain the sanctity of the Six Orthodox religions or something along those lines." He walked ahead of him then sighed, "I hope it becomes permanent. That attack that occurred during the Greenfather Ritual was truly unfortunate, but it should not be used to drag us all into war… I am sure the elves don't want that either."

Myrin nodded. "Indeed…" If he had to be truthful though, he did not really care all that much for that conflict at the moment. His attention was fully primed at their current task at hand. With the Runic Acquisition Festival officially beginning now, both him and Soren will finally have a proper chance at upgrading their Soul Weapons.

As these thoughts churned in his mind, he heard one of the navigators yell out for everyone to stop.

"The Safe Zone! We've finally returned!"

Myrin looked up past the padded shoulders of knights and explorers into the distant corridor ahead… A vibrant metropolis could be seen past the exit—one that was flipped upside down.

"No matter how many times I see it, I can never get used to it." Julien chuckled nervously. He turned to look at Myrin and smiled. "The haul this time was great! I finally have enough money to rebuild the guild… It's what my buddies would have hoped for."

Myrin looked at him briefly—a sense of pity washing over him slightly. In the end, he decided to just smile and nod back:

"I am sure you'll be able to achieve it."

Their march continued on. Step after step. One by one. Their jubilant expressions continued to grow the closer they reached the entrance. And just as their world itself was about to turn on its head, a vibrant golden light attracted their eyes, like a moth to a flame…

"Apologies for this, ladies and gents. May you all forgive me after your slumber ends."

A mysterious voice echoed in their ears… Before anyone could even react, the light flashed before them all, like an eternal sun hungering to consume the shadows of this ancient dungeon. Myrin watched it all happen with bated breath—his eyes widening more and more before the radiant spell…

"Soren…" That was all he could utter before the explorers around him started to drop like flies. It all happened so fast…

His gaze shifted to the front of the expedition caravan. Standing tall before the golden glimmer, Rodrick had already unsheathed his sword. A wide grin overtaking his face… It was clear what was on his mind:

Murder.

"You little brat… I knew you were up to no good." He said casually with a slight chuckle.

Behind him, Myrin was still frozen still—his arms holding onto Julien who had already fallen asleep. No one else besides him and the Dungeon Slayer had remained awake. The bright flash of golden light finally simmered to a close, revealing the picturesque ruined city once more…

Standing atop a mysterious, glass-like flying sword, was Soren's figure. Donning his usual robe and mage hat, he held tightly to his wand in one hand, and an ancient glowing tome in the other. Though, what attracted both Myrin's and Rodrick's eyes was what was hanging from his neck. A crimson jewel radiating in a strange and mysterious aura…

The Blood Amulet.

"So that's what you were after, huh…" Rodrick said in a rather passive tone. His unscarred eye trailing up and down Soren's figure, like a hawk readying to pounce on a helpless mouse.

From the air, the butterflies within Soren's eyes danced wildly as more and more information about the towering enemy was absorbed. He smiled playfully then nodded:

"Indeed. I hope to use it fo—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, a vertical slice cut his body in half—leaving one side to slide off the other in an abundance of blood. A powerful gust of wind roared, striking the stalactites behind him. Rubble fell from the ceiling on the ruined buildings below. Yet strangely, not a single person in the city made a fuss… As if, no one was awake to even witness it happening.

Rodrick's attack flew so fast, Myrin hadn't even registered him moving. By the time he realized, it was already too late. That single solid strike had already ended the life of his companion… His two bloodied halves were both rapidly falling toward the rest of the rubble.

"That was really rude, you know?..."

Much to Myrin's shock, his companion's voice was still heard echoing across the hollow cobblestone walls… As if he was both nowhere and everywhere.

Rodrick looked around curiously—his unscarred eye trying to find any hint of Soren's existence… But it was pointless. His anima signature was scrambled, as if he had somehow merged with the very space itself.

Soren's voice continued, "Having trouble finding me, right? Well, I would hope so! Or else it would truly be over for me."

Rodrick stayed silent for a moment, then turned his head toward the Elven Songster standing behind him. It was then that Myrin finally realized his predicament.

"Who said I needed to find you, bastard?"

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