*Splat.* Rayelle landed smoothly.

Face-first.

"Ugh... ow..."

Not knowing if anyone was nearby, she stifled her whimpers in her throat and rubbed her cheek.

Then, Rayelle lifted her head and scanned her surroundings.

Beneath the altar lay a surprisingly large space—some kind of basement.

Eerie blue candle flames flickered along the walls, swaying in an unseen chill wind. The air felt unnaturally cold.

A shiver ran down Rayelle’s spine.

Sure, she was strong now—could take down Chaos Cultists with a single punch—but ever since her body regressed to this childlike form, her spirit felt oddly fragile too. She’d developed an irrational fear of ghosts.

Faint rustling echoed in the distance. Probably just rats.

But Rayelle’s imagination conjured writhing tentacles lurking in the shadows, or pulsating flesh blobs waiting to pounce the moment she stepped closer—

*Eeep!*

Her heart hammered against her ribs at the involuntary mental image.

*This place is way too creepy!*

*Guess it’s no surprise—this* is *a secret Chaos Sect base after all.*

While silently grumbling to herself, Rayelle tiptoed around the basement.

After a quick survey, she grasped the layout.

The spot where she’d fallen resembled a vertical shaft, with handholds built into its sides.

Four pitch-black corridors branched out from this central point, each vanishing into darkness too deep to see the end. Rayelle only peeked at their entrances without stepping inside.

"Four paths... just pick one at random?"

As she hesitated, the golden mark on her wrist suddenly glowed faintly.

A tiny figure silently emerged from it, appearing beside Rayelle.

Pale white face. Semi-transparent body. Coupled with the howling wind—it made Rayelle jump, her whole body bristling like a startled pink hedgehog.

The next second, recognizing the figure, she exhaled in relief.

"Lulu... don’t just pop out like that! You scared me half to death!"

Rayelle shivered involuntarily, craning her neck to scan the shadows as if expecting more horrors to leap out.

"Eh?"

Watching Rayelle’s adorably terrified expression, Lulu raised an eyebrow. A faint, amused smile tugged at her lips—like she’d just discovered a hidden treasure.

"So the mighty dragon king who could end the world... is afraid of ghosts?"

"W-What about it?! Is it so weird for a dragon king to fear ghosts?!"

Rayelle puffed out her chest and planted her hands on her hips, trying to sound defiant.

But her trembling frame nearly made Lulu burst out laughing again.

"W-What’s so funny?!"

"Oh, just... remembering something happy."

"What happy thing?"

"*Ahem.* Right. Serious talk now."

Lulu waved a hand, her playful expression vanishing as she turned solemnly toward one of the four corridors.

"I manifested here because I sensed the presence of the Demonic Sword Jormungandr."

"What?!"

The heavyweight news instantly reignited Rayelle’s eyes, erasing all memory of being startled.

After all, she really wanted her own sword spirit loli.

*More lolis are always better!*

Sure, she’d never heard of a dragon king wielding a sword—but Rayelle figured she could set a new trend.

Her Extraordinary Power was useful, but drained her mana too fast. Barely used it a few times and she’d be dry.

"Where? Where is it?"

Rayelle’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she stared eagerly at Lulu.

But Lulu was stroking her chin, brow slightly furrowed, looking uncertain.

"Let’s be clear, Rayelle. The sword’s aura is extremely faint. I can’t confirm if it’s truly Jormungandr—might just be a lingering trace, or a fragment."

Her tone was serious, no hint of jest.

"Oh."

Rayelle’s enthusiasm dimmed by half.

"By the way—are there others nearby?"

Though Rayelle sensed no one herself, she asked Lulu just in case. As a spirit, Lulu’s perception of auras was sharper.

Lulu closed her eyes briefly, then shook her head.

"No one. This place seems abandoned. The freshest traces are days old."

"I see."

Rayelle relaxed slightly. Having Lulu here brought a measure of security.

After all, they were bound by shared interests now. Lulu wouldn’t sabotage her.

"This way."

"Got it."

Guided by Lulu, Rayelle slipped into one corridor.

Though pitch-dark and lit only by dying candle stubs, Lulu’s directions kept her path smooth.

"Left at the first junction. Watch the spike trap on your right. Keep going..."

As they walked, Lulu’s glow intensified. Her expression grew eager.

"Here?"

"Yes. The second door ahead—source of the aura."

Lulu’s eyes shone with anticipation, as if she’d rush in alone if she could. But as a spirit tethered to Rayelle’s wrist-mark, she couldn’t stray far.

"Okay."

Rayelle crept to the door. After confirming no movement or hostile auras within, she forced it open with her power.

*Creeeak—*

A dim, small room came into view.

An ordinary space: a narrow bed in the corner, a desk and chair at the far end, and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf crammed with dusty tomes.

Rayelle glanced at the spines—medical texts, herbology manuals, human anatomy charts.

*Do Chaos Sect members even have doctors?*

*Real Chaos Cultists should study forbidden spells, chaos magic, or mass destruction rituals.*

*Who in their right mind learns healing magic?*

*Just kill all your enemies at once—no need for healing. (Seriously.)*

"The aura’s on the desk."

"The desk?"

Rayelle frowned, stepping closer and following Lulu’s gaze.

On the dust-covered surface lay only a few overlapping rags—and one envelope carelessly tossed aside.