Jäger Frost

She moved like a drifting leaf, her steps light and precise. Behind her, blades of ice and snow took shape, following her movements in a sweeping arc. A thousand crystalline swords hovered in formation, gliding through the air as though commanded by her very breath.

The Chaos struck with unnerving control — almost like a human retaining consciousness. Its attacks left her with no room to breathe, yet although the abomination was faster, her ice blades were sharper still. They pierced its limbs and pinned it to the floor, driving the creature down under their sheer weight.

The Chaos writhed, unable to rise.

Helena leapt back, placing distance between herself and the monster.

She raised her hand.

At once, every blade of snow and ice shifted. The floating swords twisted into chains, then into bars, forming a cold, unbreakable cage that clamped down upon the Chaos, fastening it securely to the ground.

Helena stepped back further, refusing to approach. She brought both hands together and began forming intricate symbols — so swift and precise that no ordinary human eye could follow. Her fingers blurred as she performed the ancient sequence.

“Sin to the sea, unto the liars.

Impure of hell, born of betrayal.

Shadows shape your form, and from the ninth veil you intrude upon our world.

In sin, in deceit, and in the greed of men you thrive.

Yet none of these belong to humanity.”

Her voice deepened.

“Return beyond the ocean. Descend beyond the sea.”

A gate opened behind the imprisoned Chaos — a dark, swirling maw.

Edin dragged himself further away, crawling through the debris in silence. He searched frantically through the rubble for the Transmigration Book. After fumbling through shattered stone and charred wood, his fingers brushed the familiar cover. He seized it, tucked it beneath his uniform, and fled from the gate.

Behind him, spectral hands emerged from the portal — dozens of them. They seized the Chaos, dragging it screaming into the abyss. Its cries echoed through the chamber until the gate snapped shut and vanished.

Silence fell.

Helena looked around. She stood alone.

She did not realise her brother — Quinn Morrow — had been present the entire time.

She rushed at once to Jäger Frost. Kneeling beside him, she touched his neck. His pulse was gone. It was far too late.

Outside, the Holy Knights and the Iron Holder officers felt the force field drop. Realising the battle had ended, they stormed inside.

Helena raised her voice.

“There is no need for healers. Only the Knight Officers will handle the aftermath.”

She walked away, leaving the Cleaners — the special Tier 0 division — to deal with the remains. Their role was simple: erase every trace, every story, every rumour. They possessed no magic, only discipline and obedience.

Far beyond the ruins, perched upon a distant tree, a man watched the aftermath. Cloaked in black, wearing a low-brimmed cap, he held a walking stick. Dangling from his other hand was a puppet resembling a monster, its seams smouldering as it turned to ash.

“Well,” the man whispered calmly, “what a delightful distraction.”

Deep beneath the Court of Order lay the Library of Secrets — a forbidden archive housing dangerous spells and forgotten knowledge.

Two figures, both dressed in crimson-black robes, descended the hidden staircase. Their faces were concealed behind dark veils.

As the door of the library opened, the woman spoke softly, her voice echoing through the vast hall of towering shelves.

“So this is the library the Iron Order keeps hidden beneath the Court.”

The other figure — a man — replied sharply,

“There is no time for awe. We came for the book.”

The library responded before either of them moved.

A book drifted from a gilded pillar of arcane shelves and descended slowly, as though recognising their intentions.

The title gleamed across the cover:

Alchemy of Souls

A forbidden spell known by mages, sages, sorcerers, and even some Beyonders — yet the book contained the true, complete ritual. The secrets to soul-shifting… to inhabiting another’s body.

The figures seized the book. Their bodies dissolved into vapour, fleeing into a small container lying on the floor — disappearing without a trace.

Above, the Knight Officers continued clearing the ruins of the destroyed building. Jäger Frost’s body was recovered and carried outside with honour.

Only Klaus remained missing.

The Cleaners searched every corner for him.

Meanwhile, Helena stood with the Iron Holders, discussing the attack. They reviewed the damage, speaking in hushed voices about how this seemed less like an accident — and more like a planned diversion.

They moved toward the far corner of the courtyard, where scattered debris covered the ground. A dead Knight Officer lay slumped by the wall.

Helena’s gaze lingered before she turned away.

“Take me to where the Chaos first transformed.”

They led her behind the Court building.

“Ma’am, there’s nothing here,” an officer insisted.

Helena examined the ground herself, studying every crack and stone. Eventually, she found a shattered vial — inside it lay a red tablet identical to the one nearby.

Her eyes narrowed.

A drug that forces an alchemist into Chaos… so this was planned.

She said nothing. She slipped the vial into her pocket.

“You see, ma’am? Nothing there,” the officer repeated.

Helena nodded politely.

“Of course. My apologies for the trouble.”

She walked away.

Deep within the ruined halls, buried beneath rubble, lay Klaus — alive, though barely clinging to consciousness. Whispering faintly, he chanted a broken incantation.

“To the blood… unworthy… and the crimson bloom…”

His mind seemed fragmented — perhaps from the brutal blows the Chaos had inflicted. He muttered a summoning spell under his breath.

His final words rang out:

“Beyond the light… and in the secret… let the blood scatter… into flame…”

A crimson light erupted beneath the rubble.

The moon outside turned a deep, ominous red.

Edin, still trying to escape unnoticed, froze as the entire Court of Order was bathed in the crimson glow. Every Knight, every Iron Holder paused mid-motion, staring at the sudden light.

Even Helena, already seated inside her carriage, turned back in shock as the red brilliance flooded the night.

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