Afternoon in the forest north of Bonn City.

A tiny figure darted through the treetops, leaving only a pink blur and rustling leaves in its wake.

Buildings and pedestrians thinned in her vision. Soon, Rayelle reached the forest’s depths.

And there—peeking into view—was the location she’d seen on the Chaos Sect’s recruitment notice.

A clearing hidden beneath shadowy boughs.

At its center stood an abandoned altar.

And upon that altar pulsed a faint crimson barrier.

*This should be it.*

Rayelle took a deep breath, concealing her presence and form as she crouched in the canopy, scanning the area.

She sensed others nearby.

Though she’d altered her appearance to pink hair and crimson eyes before arriving, Rayelle preferred staying hidden.

After all, she was staking out the trial site early.

Fellow applicants might not be friendly.

Those seeking to join the Chaos Sect were rarely decent folk—either bloodstained killers or twisted sadists.

Some might attack on sight to eliminate competition.

The trial likely had limited slots, even if unspoken.

A single sweep of the treetops revealed several shifting figures.

Since they hadn’t spotted her, she’d strike first.

Holding her breath, Rayelle crept silently toward the nearest shadow.

As she closed in, a soft *pop* echoed—like passing through a barrier—but feeling nothing unusual, she ignored it.

The figure ahead was grumbling to a companion:

“...Ugh, why’d Seth boss order us to guard this place early? The Church’s reach doesn’t stretch this far.”

“Who knows? Hero Aileen’s nearby. He’s worried she might wander over during a quest. We’re to divert her if spotted.”

“Tch. Risking our necks to distract a Hero? What a pain.”

“Can’t help it. We’re short on hands. Need fresh blood. This ritual’s vital—the higher-ups are watching closely...”

Their voices carried exhaustion; they’d been stationed here awhile.

Neither noticed the invisible shadow slinking up behind them, lips curling into a wicked grin.

“Huh. Did it just get colder?” One shivered, rubbing his neck as goosebumps rose.

His companion didn’t answer.

“Hey, you feel it too—*huh?!*”

He turned, puzzled—and froze.

Beside him, his partner was seized by invisible hands. *Crack.* His neck twisted sharply right. Dead before he hit the ground.

“Mm—!”

Before he could scream, soft pressure clamped his own jaw and skull.

*Crack.*

His vision spun backward.

Same method. Same twisted neck. Same instant kill.

In a blink, both Chaos Cultists lay lifeless—no time to trigger communication spells.

Rayelle dusted her hands and melted back into silence.

Soon, every hidden cultist nearby suffered the same fate: necks snapped right, silenced without a trace.

Most were mere Rank 1s—or not even Extraordinary Beings.

*The Chaos Sect really is desperate for recruits,* she mused.

Perched in the canopy, Rayelle glanced at the slanting sun.

Late afternoon. Still time before the trial.

Waiting here bored her, but leaving felt unwise.

She tapped her cheek, then decided: *Might as well inspect that altar and barrier. Could yield clues.*

Landing lightly, she focused her senses—probing for traps on the clearing, watching the forest behind and altar ahead.

No new presences emerged after eliminating the guards.

Still cautious, Rayelle approached the altar.

Nothing happened.

The stone stood undisturbed, no hidden mechanisms or strange runes.

Only the crimson barrier glowed at its heart.

Circling the altar revealed nothing noteworthy. Rayelle turned to the pulsing barrier.

It covered the altar’s center, hiding something beneath.

Its magic blocked sight and senses—impossible to see inside.

The more she couldn’t see, the more her skin itched, as if ants crawled beneath it.

Two choices remained:

Wait here.

Or break the barrier.

“...Mana’s low, but enough to breach it briefly.”

Glancing at her near-empty mana bar, Rayelle chose the latter.

*Why come all this way and not look?*

Every clue from the Chaos Sect meant a better chance to save Chloe and Chriss.

Eyes sharpening, she stepped forward. Amber light coiled around her small hand as she pressed it to the barrier.

*Gurgle—*

Ripples spread from her palm like water. A gap widened until just large enough for her to slip through.

Without hesitation, Rayelle stepped inside.

She sealed the gap behind her—*always close doors*—then surveyed the space.

Beneath the barrier lay the altar’s core.

And at its center yawned a pitch-black hole, descending into darkness.

*What’s down there?*

Staring into the abyss, Rayelle’s knees trembled.

But curiosity crushed fear.

Sensing no residual magic or danger, she pinched her nose, shut her eyes, and jumped.