7:40 AM.

Nine people—ten just yesterday—now gathered in the hall.

They stood or sat in silence, faces etched with fear, shock, grief, and confusion. Each needed time to process what had happened.

Clapha Zelah, current head of the noble Zerah Family, had been found dead in the center of his mansion’s hall on the first morning of the Harvest Festival. He lay in a pool of blood, his heart ripped out—utterly, irrevocably dead.

York, the eldest son, stood closest to the corpse. His face was pale, his lips nearly bleeding from being bitten so hard.

Lux, the second son, stood beside him. His face was ashen, cold sweat beading on his forehead, tears glistening faintly at his eyes’ corners.

Ellen, the eldest daughter, had been pacing anxiously since earlier. Her eyes were red and swollen, fists clenched tight.

Chloe, the second daughter, leaned against the wall. Her bloodless hand pressed against her forehead, as if she might faint any moment.

Liliana, the fourth daughter, huddled in the corner. Tears streamed down uncontrollably, her whole body trembling slightly.

Nia, the third son, hid beside Liliana. His face was deathly gray, as if he expected to be next.

Anhans frowned deeply, examining traces around the corpse just like York.

Molly knelt shakily on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around herself, sobbing quietly. It was her first time seeing a corpse.

Nerlis also looked grave, standing a short distance from York’s group, observing the body.

————————————————————————————————

The “someone” watched it all, watching his handiwork. A weight lifted from his heart.

Good.

The first target was eliminated smoothly.

The first step was always the most crucial. No mistakes—excellent.

What would they do next? Surely check the barriers first, despair, then use tracking magic for clues. And after the second one fell smoothly… he’d be nearly successful.

Don’t rush. You’ll all get your turn.

Anyway, order didn’t matter. Everyone would die in the end.

————————————————————————————————

York forced the words through gritted teeth.

“Everyone, stay put! Don’t move or run off! This is murder—highly skilled murder! The nearest branch family and constabulary are kilometers away. Contact them first—Chloe!”

“Huh? Ah?”

“Send a magical message! Summon every Zerah branch family and guard squad in the territory! They must come, even during the Harvest Festival!”

“Yes!”

Still pale and shaken, Chloe didn’t falter. As a senior sorcerer, sending messages was effortless for her.

She raised her hand, chanting softly. A white light shot up from her palm, swirling once before speeding away at incredible velocity—then—

“No! Something’s wrong!”

Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“What?!”

“The message spell… it can’t get out!”

“What?!”

York froze, then remembered something.

“Ellen, Lux, with me! Chloe, stay and protect everyone! You and Ellen are the strongest here!”

“But—”

“No buts! The Shadow Attendants assigned to guard Father during the festival aren’t answering my summons. Only two possibilities—they’re dead, or they’re the killers! Stay sharp, all of you!”

The three sprinted toward the hall’s main door. York whispered a command; it slid open automatically. They dashed out.

Silence swallowed the hall. Only Chloe’s pale face remained visible as she murmured spells, launching ice shards and fireballs one after another. These were quick-alert wards—simple but effective—automatically attacking intruders.

Less than half a minute later, shouts and rumbling echoed from outside. The noise lasted nearly a minute before fading. Inside, everyone waited in tense silence.

“…Hey, everyone.”

Lux broke the quiet as he returned, his face still ashen.

“You’d better all come see. Things just got complicated.”

————————————————————————————————

Barriers.

One of magic’s oldest, most versatile, and widespread arts.

Defense, isolation, alert, tracking—uses were endless. Barriers appeared everywhere, from beginner spells to the deepest Forbidden Spells.

Though barriers had evolved over millennia, core rules never changed.

For example: overloading one barrier with too many functions made it unstable. Multiple single-purpose barriers worked better.

For example: for a barrier to run autonomously long-term, it needed a core to replace its creator.

For example: every barrier had limits. Exceed them, and it shattered… and so on.

As a great noble house, the Zerah Family took no chances.

Their main estate, far from the city, lay under layered barriers—defensive, isolating, alerting—like inverted bowls sealing the mansion tight. By day, some barriers deactivated for access; by night, all activated, guarding against intruders.

Proudly, the Zerah barriers were crafted centuries ago by the Arlen Kingdom’s royal Sorcerer—not a mere sorcerer, but a being far above senior and grand sorcerers. Unbreakable, stable, and razor-sharp, they remained effective even today.

Now, that once-impregnable wall had become their most desperate prison.

————————————————————————————————

Blinding silver light erupted, coalescing into a life-sized silver greatsword. Massive mana poured into it, its glow growing denser. Ellen gripped the hilt, eyes closed, compressing power until the limit—then snapped them open—

“HAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!”

The greatsword swung. A colossal silver slash roared outward, tearing up the earth. Trees shuddered in the storm’s wake. The slash slammed into the glass-like barrier wall. Ripples spread across its surface, straining near breaking point—but it held firm. After seconds of struggle, the slash vanished first. The barrier settled, unharmed.

“Huff… huff… That’s one of my strongest moves, yet it can’t break this! Not even a crack! A Sorcerer-level barrier… no wonder a senior Mystic Warrior like me can’t damage it…”

Ellen panted, wiping sweat from her brow. Her greatsword shrank rapidly back to a knight’s longsword.

In her twenties as a senior Mystic Warrior—equivalent to a senior sorcerer—she was already remarkable for tiny Arlen Kingdom.

Mystic Warriors were magic’s combat-focused offshoot. Unlike sorcerers who studied arcane mysteries, they refined mana internally: part strengthened their bodies, part fused with martial skills. They relied on raw physical prowess, sharp techniques, and direct mana bursts to kill.

Sorcerers grew versatile; Mystic Warriors specialized in battle. A powerful Mystic Warrior couldn’t level a city like a Forbidden Spell caster, but in one-on-one fights, their win rate far exceeded sorcerers’.

Those serving nobles were often called knights. Ellen was a key member of Arlen’s elite Red Ribbon Knights, young yet exceptionally skilled, favored by many high-ups.

Yet even she was powerless now. Her attacks left no mark on the barrier.

“So… we’re truly trapped by our own barriers…”

The mansion’s defensive barrier worked both ways: outward against invaders, inward to contain thieves. The inward side was usually off—but now active, sealing them all inside.

“You’re our strongest fighter, Ellen. If you can’t break it… Chloe!”

“—Y-yes!”

Startled by York’s shout, Chloe flinched, still bloodless.

“As you see, the killer tampered with the barrier. We can’t get out. Try your senior magic, Chloe! Shatter it!”

“R-right! Everyone, stand back! O great Ice Empress, freeze the fleeting and eternal—pierce the unclean with glacial fury… Frostwater Cascade!”

Chloe chanted softly. Torrents of cold gathered in her hands as others retreated.

“…Purify all impurity!”

Compressed frost surged toward the barrier. Even stray chill made others’ teeth chatter.

Hssss…

As the mist cleared, thick ice coated the barrier’s center. The core looked battered—but the wall itself stood unharmed.

“Failed…” Lux muttered. York clicked his tongue.

“If solo attacks fail… Ellen, Chloe, could you both unleash everything at once? Might that break it?”

The two exchanged glances—

“Probably not.”

“I can’t do it.”

“If brute force fails, what about dismantling it, Chloe—”

“—Impossible!”

Anhans cut in, giving York a look like he was an idiot.

“It’s a Sorcerer’s masterpiece. And Chloe specializes in ice and fire elements—not barriers.”

“…”

Chloe shot Anhans a grateful glance. He puffed up slightly, encouraged.

“So, York, even as a magic novice, you should know this. Stop pushing—”

“Shut up! It’s not your father who died!!”

Liliana suddenly screamed, startling everyone. Her shoulders shook violently, lips white, voice edged with hysteria. She kept clutching her stomach.

“Uh… Liliana?” Anhans, never yelled at by his little sister, froze awkwardly.

“Ah… n-nothing… I’m just… too worked up. But don’t say stupid things.”

“…You seem to have stomach pain?”

“I’m just tense! Annoying!”

She scowled, retreating behind Nia to crouch with knees hugged.

Silence fell again.

York cleared his throat. “I know everyone’s… shaken. I am too. This is too sudden. Before grief, confusion and fear alone can break us. Stay calm, understood?”

Nods all around.

“Then, as a precaution, we’ll move together and inspect the barrier’s edge thoroughly—”

“No need. While you were out, I already finished.” Anhans waved his hand. Seven exquisitely crafted puppets emerged from shadows, gathered around him, then shrank to palm-size before slipping into his pocket.

Using magically engineered puppets as familiars—this was his research as a Puppeteer.

Based on the incoming reports, the barrier's edge is flawless—no imperfections, no gaps. Forcing a breakthrough is off the table.

...Alright then, everyone. Let's head back to the hall for now.