The last sliver of sunset vanished without a trace, leaving only the gloom of night.

Stars glittered in the sky; fireflies danced among the trees.

In the silent, empty forest, several shadowy figures gradually emerged.

Though no words were exchanged, each understood the others’ purpose:

to undergo the Chaos Sect’s initiation trial.

As the largest heretical organization, the Chaos Sect wielded power rivaling the Holy Light Church—the very institution governing the nations of Midrealm. Its doctrine—harmonizing with the Extraordinary, letting corruption spread freely to fuel one’s strength—held undeniable allure for outlaws tainted by pollution. After all, the Holy Light Church offered only extermination to the corrupted.

Ordinarily, joining the Sect required a local leader’s recommendation. Open recruitment like this was rare. All present intended to seize this chance: to grow stronger under the Sect’s resources, or find allies against the Church.

"Hey… isn’t that Lucas over there…?"

A hushed gasp broke the silence.

Eyes followed the speaker’s gaze. Leaning against a tree stood a giant of a man—over two meters tall—gnawing on a white bone with loud *crunches*. Slung across his shoulder rested a massive broadsword, over a meter long. Its thick, bloody stench made even hardened criminals shudder.

Lucas was infamous among them. He’d razed entire towns, slaughtered a Holy Light Church knight detachment, and evaded capture. Merely standing near such a monster sent involuntary chills down spines.

Suddenly, Lucas narrowed his eyes, flashing a sinister grin.

"Oh ho, Shipman… you’ve come too?"

"Hmph…"

A shadow dropped soundlessly from the treetops. A cold blade sliced the air.

Lucas dodged with a tilt of his head, then swung back.

**BOOM!**

The ground trembled. A five-meter fissure split the earth.

The shadow leapt aside, landing silently on open ground, eyes glinting darkly.

"Trying to eliminate rivals early? Pity. You picked the wrong target."

Lucas smirked, leaning lazily against the tree as he licked his crimson blade. "I wouldn’t mind adding another stain to my steel… if you insist."

The shadow stood motionless for a moment. Deeming the odds unfavorable, it melted back into the darkness.

"‘Shadowblade’ Shipman?!"

Another ripple of shock spread through the crowd.

"He was once in the Shadow Assassins Guild… killed his own superior, escaped his comrades’ pursuit…"

"He also murdered several city lords. Walked away unscathed from city guard sieges…"

"Worse—he craves Extraordinary Beings’ hearts. Hunts them specifically… eats them raw."

"Monstrous… I’ll keep my distance."

Whispers grew louder. Many stepped out of the bushes onto the clearing, fearing Shipman’s blade might find them next.

From the shadows, a figure with a greatsword watched silently.

*"...So many… and quite a few Second Rank Extraordinary Beings. This might be tricky…"*

Aerin leaned against a tree trunk, stroking her black hair. Her hawk-like crimson eyes scanned every face—potential leads to the Chaos Sect. Following them would make rescuing Chloe on Crimson Moon Day far easier. Coming two hours early had been worth it.

As Aerin observed the crowd, a familiar silhouette caught her eye.

A petite girl with cherry-pink hair emerged from the altar’s crimson barrier, casually carrying a chair.

Her quiet entrance instantly seized everyone’s attention.

"Who’s she?"

"No idea. Looks ruthless."

"Tiny thing though. Easy prey?"

"Fool. Judge by looks, and she’ll snap your neck before you blink."

Rayelle walked forward, cold and silent. Her blood-red eyes radiated killing intent that froze the air. She never glanced at anyone, her youthful face etched with the Chaos Sect’s arrogance—as if the entire gathering meant nothing to her.

Her emergence from the barrier sent a clear signal.

"Is she from the Sect?"

"Had to be. Only Sect members could breach that barrier."

"We all tried. It’s unbreakable. Only a Sect elder could’ve made it…"

Excitement surged. Finally—a trial overseer. And such a small girl? She’d be easy to handle.

Then Rayelle smiled.

A chilling aura erupted from her tiny frame—less than four feet tall—yet it pressed down like a monstrous leviathan. Even Lucas stiffened. Shipman, hidden in the dark, felt a shiver crawl up his spine. Such suffocating pressure… neither had ever felt its like.

***

In the forest shadows, Aerin’s eyes snapped wide. Her knuckles whitened around the Holy Sword’s hilt.

That silhouette… those pink locks… those crimson eyes…

*It’s that bratty pink-haired loli from last night!*

And that overwhelming pressure—she knew it intimately.

*Dragon Kind aura. Nearly identical to Rigmore’s.*

*This brat… is a pint-sized version of the evil dragon Rigmore!*

*So… Rigmore really is tangled with the Chaos Sect…*

Aerin’s grip tightened. A cold smile touched her lips.

She nearly lunged forward—to drag that smug pink-haired brat home, lock her in the basement, and teach her a proper lesson.

But the crowd held her back. Too many witnesses. And Rigmore clearly held status here, deep in Sect territory.

*Fine. I’ll join the Sect first… then kidnap her quietly.*

Unseen nearby, Lulu watched Aerin’s seething expression.

She could barely contain her laughter.

*Oh, this is going to be fun.*