"Alright, crew," Dominik crouched down until he was eye-level with a cluster of toddlers and whispered. "Remember, we have to be so quiet that even the floorboards and stones know we’re here. If you hear a loud noise, you duck into the shadows and pretend you’re a statue. Can you do that?"

"Can I be a statue of a cat?" a small boy whispered with gleaming eyes.

"Oh oh! I also want to be a cat!"

"A statue of a cat? What does that mean?" Dominik asked.

"It means I get to go down like this!" The boy crouched down on all fours and posed like a cat waiting for his food.

"U-Uhm... sure..." Dominik looked at the boy sceptically. "But you have to be the quietest cat in the world."

"""YAAAY!"""

"Shhh!" Dominik shushed at the kids.

"""S-Sorry Captain... yaaay..."""

They began the descent. And true to what they said, Dominik felt like he was herding a sea of kittens through a minefield.

’Fucking hell. Do these kids even know that these people are evil in every sense of the word? They’re acting so innocent and excited, like we’re playing hide and seek or something.’

Every time a child giggled, or a pair of oversized boots clattered against the ground, Dominik felt a cold spike of ice shoot up his spine.

As they reached the first major landing of the stairs, the sound of sprinting boots echoed from the floor below.

"... Search the eastern corridors for backup!" A cultist screamed with panic. "That Emelie Herst woman is tearing up the courtyard! We need reinforcements!"

’Oh crap!’ "Hide! Statues! Now!" Dominik’s eyes went wide as he signaled frantically for the children to back away.

The children froze momentarily, then moved. Some tucked themselves behind stone walls of the stairs; others simply sat down on the ascending steps, squeezing their eyes shut. Dominik slipped to the edge of the staircase, his hands igniting with a dim, orange glow. He saw two cultists charging up the stairs.

"Wait here," He mouthed to the kids.

He didn’t give the cultists a chance to react or speak. As they rounded the corner, Dominik lunged and used his fire magic to superheat the air in their lungs, silencing their screams before they could begin. With two swift, brutal strikes to the temple, they went down.

Feeling curious eyes on his back, he knew the children were watching, Dominik forced a cheerful, strained smile. "They’re just... taking a nap! Too much hide-and-seek. Help me tuck them in."

He dragged the bodies to lean on the nearby wall, patting them on making them look comfortable as if they were in a peaceful dream.

"Ok, that’s good enough." He wiped the sweat from his brow and waved the children forward "Keep moving, crew. The ship is waiting."

The journey through the lower fortress was a series of near catastrophes. At one point, a young girl tripped with a heavy thud, dropping her storybook. Three cultists were immediately alerted and turned toward the noise.

Dominik wasted little time. He told the kids to look at the "pretty carvings" on the ceiling. While their heads were tilted up, he became a blur of elemental violence. He used his water magic to draw the moisture from the air and formed razor-thin discs that silenced the guards before they could draw their swords. He hid them behind the curtains, his movements frantic and precise.

"Why are they sleeping behind the curtains, Captain?" a girl asked

"They’re playing a very high-level game of hide-and-seek," Dominik replied, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re winning. Let’s go."

"Huh? We are? Who’s the seeker?"

"Everybody! Now come on!" He urgently hissed.

.....

Finally, the air changed. The stagnant, oppressive heat of the corridors gave way to the wet chill of the outdoor rain. They had reached the main courtyard. The exit was only a few paces away.

Dominik stepped out from the archway first, his hand held out to keep the children in the shadows of the stone hallway. The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

’Holy shit...’

The courtyard was no longer a beautiful garden. It was a graveyard. Dozens of cultists lay scattered across the grass and the stone pathways; their bodies twisted in ways that suggested the terrifying slaughter fest they went through. The rain washed the blood into the black-water pond, turning the surface into a swirling dark crimson.

In the center of the courtyard, standing before the towering white-marble statue of the Goddess, was a lone figure.

The figure was draped in the cultist’s signature cloak, the hood pulled so low it obscured nearly their entire face. In their hands was a massive halberd, similar to the ones of the front guardsmen. The weapon looked too heavy in the hand of this mysterious figure, yet they held it with an effortless, haunting grace. Skewered through the blade of the halberd was the limp body of a high-ranking cultist.

With a flick of their wrist, the figure tossed the body aside. It hit the wet stone with a heavy, final thud.

"Stay back," Dominik whispered to the children, his voice cracking. "Stay in the hall. Don’t come out until I say so. I’m gonna quickly check something."

Dominik began to walk forward, his boots splashing in the puddles. He kept his hood low and his body coiled like a spring, ready to burst into action at any time. He held both his hands up in a peaceful gesture, but his mana already surging to his fingertips.

"Hey!" Dominik called out over the roar of the rain. "Who are you? Why are you killing them?"

’Please be friendly, please be friendly.’

The hooded figure didn’t turn immediately. A low, muffled mumble drifted through the wind. Dominik couldn’t make out the words over the drumming of the storm.

"What was that?! I couldn’t hear you!"

The figure turned. The movement was so fluid it looked unnatural. "It seems..." The voice was cold, melodic, and terrifyingly familiar, "that I missed one."

Before Dominik could process the words, the figure stepped forward. There was no transition nor running start. The halberd was suddenly whistling toward his neck.

Dominik reacted on instinct, throwing himself backward. He channelled the falling rain, spinning the water into a dense, rotating shield around his forearms. The halberd struck the water-shield, and the force of the blow nearly shattered his bones.

"Wait! I’m not with them!"

The figure didn’t listen. They spun the halberd around in a complex, mesmerizing pattern, the blade cutting through the raindrops with a sound like tearing silk. Dominik countered with a blast of pressurized water, aiming for the figure’s chest.

The attack hit... or it should have.

The figure simply vanished. A shimmer of crimson light flickered where they had been standing, and a second later, they appeared directly behind him.

"Gone!? Was that... telepo– WHOA!"

VOOSH! Again, the halberd aimed for his neck, and again Dominik dodged.

Every time Dominik’s attacks were about to connect, the figure moved through the space between heartbeats. It was like fighting a ghost. Dominik would swing, and his fists would pass through a fading afterimage, only for the real figure to strike him from the flank.

The fight was a masterclass in one-sided devastation. Dominik was practically a veteran, a master of fire and water, but he was being dismantled. Easily.

"Dammit! Don’t underestimate me!" He roared in frustration, grabbing the shaft of the halberd as it thrust toward his ribs. He poured every ounce of his Strengthening Magic into his grip, the wood of the weapon groaning under the pressure. With a final, desperate heave, the ornate shaft snapped.

"Haha. How’s that? No weapon for you."

But the hooded figure didn’t falter. They looked at the broken pieces of the halberd and dropped it into the mud.

"Hmph. You’re the strongest one I’ve met so far." The voice whispered. "But sadly, you’re not strong enough."

The figure reached toward their own chest, their hand sinking into a rift of shimmering crimson energy that manifested over their heart. With a slow pull, they drew out a sword. It was a long, curved nodachi with a hilt of black silk and a blade that glowed with a faint, bloody luminescence.

’That blade! It really is you!’ Dominik froze. His heart stopped. He recognized that sword.

"Prin–"

The figure lunged. The nodachi moved in a vertical arc, a strike so fast the rain itself seemed to move out of its way. Dominik tried to raise a shield, but he was too slow. The flat of the blade slammed into his chest, pinning him to the wet ground.

He looked up, the cold steel of the nodachi hovering inches from his throat. The figure leaned down, the blade trembling slightly.

"Since you made me summon my personal weapon, I’ll do you the honors and allow you to say your last words. So go on, what are they?"

"STOP! DON’T HURT HIM!"

The scream didn’t come from Dominik. It came from the corner of the courtyard.

The children had broken out of their hiding places and surged out from the archway. It was a sea of small bodies running their voices high and desperate.

"Don’t kill the captain!"

"He’s going to take us on an adventure!"

The hooded figure flinched. The unexpected distraction of children caused the nodachi to slightly descend. The blade whistled past Dominik’s ear, slicing through the fabric of his hood and sticking it into the mud.

The hood fell away, exposing Dominik’s face to the rain.

The figure’s mouth opened like a small ’O’. The crimson glow of the nodachi faded. Slowly, they reached up with a gloved hand and pulled back their own hood. Revealing their own striking beautiful face.

"Dominik?"

"H-Hey. Good evening, Principal Valentine."