The heavy doors groaned open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The air inside was thick with raw energy—an almost tangible force pressing against my skin. Pale blue veins of essence pulsed along the stone walls, flickering erratically like a dying heartbeat.
At the center of the room was a sealed altar, surrounded by intricate runes glowing with unstable light. The domain's core.
Zach let out a slow breath. "This… is worse than I thought."
Amir whistled, his usual grin absent. "I'd say it's already beyond saving, but knowing us, we're about to try anyway."
Deya stepped closer, running her fingers along the edge of the altar. The moment she touched it, the entire room shuddered. A pulse of energy shot through the floor, and suddenly, the air grew colder.
The clan leader tensed. "Careful. The balance is fragile."
Nel narrowed her eyes. "Then stop wasting time and tell us exactly what happened here."
The old man hesitated, then finally spoke. "Five months ago, my son awakened his domain. He was our clan's greatest hope—the first essence-born of our generation, and even among them, a prodigy. But something went wrong. During seclusion to figure out how to transfer, he was attacked. And then his domain… it kept expanding, consuming itself in a cycle we couldn't stop."
I frowned. "Domain transfer? At your clan's level? Are you serious? And you didn't request any assistance? What the hell were you planning on doing—taking over Germany in Obsidian's absence?"
"Transfer? What do you mean?" Deya asked, and Amir looked a little confused as well.
Before Nel or Zach could answer, I spoke up, my voice tight with irritation. This entire assignment was turning into a headache.
"The top clans are the top clans for one reason—the sheer number of Level Three users we have. For example, my clan has twenty-six, Zach's thirteen, and Nel's ten—well, technically eleven." I caught Nel flinching at the remark but continued. "The main reason we have so many is because we had a user strong and skilled enough to transfer his understanding to peak Level Two users—to help them awaken their domain. Of course, just guidance isn't enough, and some prodigies take their own route. It's also not guaranteed they'll succeed, but it's a start. Most clans try to keep this information about transference private, but no one's stupid."
The leader's jaw tightened. "You Forties are so uptight. We just wanted a chance to stand at the top. To not have to fight for missions that give us enough merit to do something as simple as expand."
Zach's gaze flicked to the altar. "And how did that work out?"
The clan leader gave a heavy nod. "We could've—no, we should've—made it to the top. But we were stopped before we could even rise."
"Classic Icarus case," Amir muttered.
I ignored Amir and cut straight to the real problem. "I'm going to ignore your greed for a second and address the elephant in the room. Who the hell killed a Level Three user? And why didn't you say how severe the situation was when you reported the matter?"
"Report?" The clan leader looked genuinely confused. "I thought you guys came here after that scout we talked to a few days ago."
"Shit," I muttered as the realization hit me. My hands instinctively went to my swords. On the plane, I was given a choice—covert or direct. I chose covert. And yet, we were met at the runway, expected. Which meant… someone played us from the start.