As Len called out, the stall owner stepped forward—a beautiful woman who looked to be in her late twenties, her dark hair tied back loosely. She glanced at Len with a raised brow before smirking.
Vallis: “You’re back after a while, Captain Suru.”
Shivam’s eyes flickered toward Len, confused. Captain? He studied Len’s expression, expecting surprise or irritation, but Len remained casual, as if being called a captain was nothing unusual.
Len walked up to the stall, taking a seat and motioning for Shivam to sit beside him. As Vallis handed them a menu, Len skimmed it briefly before saying,
Len: “I’ll have the usual. Shivam, what about you?”
Shivam hesitated. He wasn’t used to choosing meals—usually, he just ate whatever he could get his hands on. Not wanting to trouble Len, he answered,
Shivam: “I’ll have what you’re having.”
Len nodded.
A few minutes later, Vallis served them both steaming bowls of soup, filled with fragrant rice, soft-boiled vegetables, and tender roasted chicken. A few boiled eggs sat on the side, a free addition that Vallis always gave to regulars.
Len clasped his hands together in a quiet prayer before picking up his spoon. Meanwhile, Shivam wasted no time digging in. The warmth of the broth spread through his body, and the rich flavors made his stomach tighten with hunger. He ate fast—too fast—until suddenly, a chunk of food got stuck in his throat.
Shivam coughed violently, his face turning red. Before he could panic, Vallis swiftly filled a glass with water and handed it to him. He grabbed it, gulping the water down in one go, finally forcing the food down.
Len, watching with mild amusement and concern, smirked.
Len: “Shivam, slow down. No one’s going to steal your food.”
Before Shivam could respond, Len reached over and gave him a light pat on the head. The unexpected gesture made Shivam freeze. His cheeks warmed with embarrassment, and he lowered his gaze, suddenly self-conscious.
Feeling Vallis’ eyes on them, he glanced up and saw her chuckling softly. She rested her chin on her hand, looking at Len with curiosity.
Vallis: “Captain, who is this kid anyway? At first, I thought he was one of your recruits, but he doesn’t seem like one. So why are you so fond of him? You were never this kind to anyo—”
Before she could finish, Len cut in with a sharp but calm voice.
Len: “His name is Shivam, and he’s an Iso. You can tell just by looking at him, right, Vallis? And don’t bring up the past—it’s not relevant. Let me enjoy my meal.”
Vallis pursed her lips and pouted slightly. Dodging the question again, huh? She didn’t push further, sensing that now wasn’t the time. Instead, she turned her attention back to Shivam, who had finished eating but seemed hesitant about something.
Shivam’s empty bowl sat in front of him, and Vallis noticed the way his fingers fidgeted slightly. His eyes darted toward Len’s bowl as Vallis refilled it with a second serving, but he remained silent.
It was clear—he wanted more but didn’t dare to ask.
Shivam argued with himself. Should I ask? No, I shouldn’t. I’ve already eaten enough. Len already paid for me. Asking for seconds would be greedy. His stomach, however, had other thoughts, growling softly in protest.
Len, noticing the way Shivam clenched his fists, sighed. Without saying anything, he grabbed Shivam’s empty bowl and held it out to Vallis.
Len: “Can you refill this too?”
Shivam’s head snapped up.
Shivam: “Wait, I—”
Len: “No complaining. Just eat.”
Len handed him the refilled bowl, unfazed by Shivam’s protests. Shivam wanted to refuse, his pride screaming at him to reject the food, but in the end, the scent of the warm broth won. He picked up his spoon again, his voice small.
Shivam: “…Thanks.”
Len just smiled and continued eating. Vallis chuckled, watching the interaction with amusement.
Vallis: This kid… he’s different from the others.
After finishing his second serving, Shivam leaned back in his seat, feeling full for the first time in days. A deep warmth spread through his body, making him sluggish. His eyelids grew heavy, his exhaustion catching up to him.
Meanwhile, Len paid Vallis and leaned against the stall, talking to her in a low voice.
Len: “Vallis, did you find the culprit behind the forced Fol awakenings?”
Vallis crossed her arms, shaking her head.
Vallis: “Not yet, Captain, but my team and I managed to track down some of the victims. Some suffered serious injuries—their bodies couldn’t handle the sudden Fol infusion. Others… weren’t so lucky. They died in the process. A few, though, were able to adapt and control their Fol without issue.”
Len’s jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the wooden counter. Innocent people had died because of this. Someone out there was playing god, forcing awakenings without caring about the consequences. His anger simmered beneath the surface.
As they spoke, Shivam, too full and too tired to fight off his drowsiness, slowly drifted off. His head bobbed forward before slumping onto the stall’s counter. He had barely caught any of their conversation—his body was too exhausted to keep up.
Len glanced at him, noting how quickly he had fallen asleep. A small chuckle escaped him before he turned back to Vallis.
Len: “I’ll be looking into this myself. If you hear anything new, let me know.”
He adjusted his coat, preparing to leave, when suddenly, a loud voice rang out from across the street.
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???: “Suru?! Oh-ho! So it’s true—you’re back in town!”
Len turned his head casually, his gaze landing on the approaching figure.
???: “Suru, Captain of the Seven Demons! I challenge you! A duel—to prove who’s truly fit to lead the Seven Demons!”
Len’s expression remained relaxed, almost lazy, as he recognized the man. A smirk tugged at his lips.
Len: “Oh? If it isn’t the ‘Fourth Warrior of Beasts.’ The Beast of Creation, Warrior Ace.”
Ace smirked as he strode forward, his presence commanding attention. The air between them grew thick with tension, but just as Ace was about to step closer, Len lifted a hand, gesturing toward the stall.
Len: “See that?”
Ace followed his gaze and frowned. Shivam was slumped over, completely out cold, breathing softly.
Len: “He’s sleeping.” Len stretched his arms lazily. “So, I’ll fight you tomorrow morning. Duel grounds.”
Ace’s smirk wavered.
Ace: “Hah? When did the Captain I knew become such a softie? Come on, let’s settle it now.”
Len’s relaxed posture didn’t change, but his voice dropped—calm, yet firm.
Len: “I said no. So don’t push it.”
Something in his tone made Ace instinctively step back. A chill ran down his spine.
Ace scoffed but folded his arms, nodding slightly.
Ace: “Tch. Seems like your way of showing authority hasn’t dulled.” His smirk returned. “Good.”
With that, Ace turned on his heel, leaving the challenge set for tomorrow.
Len glanced once more at Shivam, still fast asleep, and sighed.
Len: Kid must’ve been more exhausted than I thought.
Len then carried Shivam’s sleeping body through the quiet streets, his steps steady as he made his way to the small inn he had rented. The boy was light, his breathing slow and even. Too exhausted to wake up, too vulnerable to protect himself.
Reaching his room, Len carefully laid Shivam onto the bed. The boy's clothes were filthy, the grime of the streets still clinging to him. With practiced hands, Len undressed him, peeling away the dirty fabric before replacing it with clean clothes. As he buttoned up the fresh shirt, his fingers suddenly froze.
A presence. A dark, lingering energy.
It clung to Shivam’s neck, a subtle pulse of Dark Fol that Len hadn't noticed before. His brows furrowed.
Why didn’t I sense this earlier?
Was his sensing ability nullified by something? Or had he simply not paid enough attention to Shivam before? His mind raced as he carefully brushed his fingers over the dark mark. The moment his touch met the Fol, it reacted—shifting like a living entity, resisting him.
But Len wasn’t one to hesitate.
His own Fol instinctively flared, and without even needing to conjure anything, the energy surrounding him gathered into a pure force—a sudden burst of power that immediately dispersed the Dark Fol into nothingness.
His eyes darkened as he took a closer look.
Shivam’s body showed the same markings and disruptions as the other victims—the ones who had been forcefully awakened. Yet unlike them, Shivam’s body had adapted. He wasn’t writhing in pain, nor did he seem unstable.
Was that why I didn’t notice it before?
Len had assumed Shivam was a natural Iso—not someone who had their Fol forcibly awakened. Had that assumption lowered his guard?
As he pondered the implications, a sudden shift in the air made his instincts snap into place.
Someone was watching.
Before Len could think, his Fol surged outward on its own, a violent, unrestrained burst of energy—it shot toward the darkened corner of the room like a wild beast unleashed.
The energy collided midair—then vanished.
A figure absorbed it.
A voice followed.
???: “Captain Suru, it's me. Not an enemy.”
The figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows as if peeling away from the darkness itself.
Len narrowed his eyes.
Len: “Kai. The Shadow Demon. Rank Five.”
Kai gave a small nod, his form flickering like a mirage.
Len: “Don’t appear without warning. Understood?”
Kai stiffened before nodding quickly.
Kai: “Understood, Captain. I have intel on how the culprit is forcefully awakening people’s Fol.”
Len’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened. He gestured for Kai to continue.
Kai: “The method they’re using—it’s Dark Fol.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
Len raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting for more.
Kai: “Dark Fol, as you know, originates from the Dark Continent in the Eastern Region. The culprit seems to have somehow gained the ability to use it. Every victim we’ve found carries the same signature of Dark Fol lingering on their bodies.”
Len’s fingers tapped against the wooden bed frame.
Kai: “We can remove it, but it’s risky. If an inexperienced Iso tries to nullify Dark Fol, they could easily kill the person instead of saving them.”
Len let out a slow breath. That complicated things.
Len: “Good work, Shadow Demon. I’ll leave the rest to you and the others.”
Kai didn’t linger. His form shimmered, his body becoming intangible before phasing through the floor, vanishing into the void.
Now alone, Len sat beside Shivam, looking at his peaceful, unaware face. Someone had forced his Fol awake. Someone had experimented on him.
His grip on the bedsheets tightened.
Too many thoughts ran through his mind, but for now, he needed rest.
Len laid down beside Shivam, staring at the ceiling, his mind still turning over the pieces.
For now, he would sleep. But tomorrow, he would start hunt but also go to have a duel with Ace as well.
At three in the morning, the air was crisp and silent. Len arrived at the duel ground, his breath visible in the cold air.
Ace was already there, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders.
The moment he spotted Len, he didn't hesitate—a sharp spike of ice materialized in his palm, and with a flick of his wrist, he launched it forward.
Len’s eyes narrowed.
With a single stomp, the earth responded instantly, a thick rock wall rising in front of him. The ice shattered against it, but Ace was already on the move.
He charged, his body crackling as lightning arced around him, ice creeping up his limbs in a swirling aura. His speed surged, the ground freezing beneath his steps.
Len backstepped immediately, his stance shifting into defense. Ace’s speed was no joke.
A sudden blast of lightning shot toward him—fast, precise.
Len twisted his body, dodging—but the real attack followed.
The moment he avoided the lightning, a sharp icicle speared into his left leg, freezing over his limb and rooting him to the ground.
Ace smirked.
Ace: “Got you.”
Len didn’t panic.
Without hesitation, fire erupted around his leg, melting the ice in mere seconds. His freed foot slammed into the ground, sending a ripple of Fol through the earth.
Ace jumped back, recognizing the shift in stance.
He grinned, but his Fol flared dangerously high.
Ace: “Time for—
A massive surge of elemental energy burst from his body. The air around them crackled as heat and cold clashed violently, unstable but powerful.
Ace: Meteor Shower and Lava Eruption!"
The moment those words left his mouth, Len moved.
No time to let Ace fully conjure it.
A blur—Len dashed forward at terrifying speed.
Before Ace could react, Len was already in his space—his fingers at Ace’s neck, right at a vital point.
His muscles tensed, shifting subtly. His normally short nails extended, sharpening into claws—long, razor-like weapons.
Ace froze.
The energy around him faltered, breaking apart into harmless wisps of Fol.
A long silence.
Then, Ace let out a breath and raised his hands in surrender.
Ace: “Damn. You’re still holding back. I thought you were an Elemental Fol Specialist.”
Len withdrew his hand, his muscles relaxing, and his nails retracted back to normal.
Len: “I didn’t want to destroy this place. Or let other Iso sense me.”
Ace smirked, rubbing his neck, but he didn’t argue.
Later, Len goes back to the inn.
As Len walked into the room, his boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. The dim candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
On the ground, Kai knelt, his hand gripping the shoulder of a man drenched in sweat, his breath ragged.
But what caught Len’s attention was the dark Fol swirling around the captive’s body.
His gaze flickered to the bed—Shivam was still asleep, undisturbed.
Without a word, Len tilted his head toward Kai.
Len: Take him.
Kai nodded. He grabbed the captive, and with a blur of shadows, both of them sank into the floor, vanishing.
---
Len descended into the inn’s underground chamber—a place few knew existed.
The walls were lined with torture devices, some rusted with age, others freshly polished.
Kai stood beside the captive, his grip firm, the victim's arms bound with Fol-infused chains.
Len stepped forward, his expression blank.
Len: “State your name. Now.”
The man remained silent.
Len exhaled.
Without warning, he placed his palm against the man’s chest—and in an instant, a sharp wave of ice surged through his body.
The captive convulsed violently, coughing up blood as his organs partially froze.
Len: “I won’t ask again.”
Silence.
Len pressed his fingers deeper—another pulse of ice shot through the man’s body. His insides began to freeze at a slow, agonizing pace.
The captive gasped, blood trickling from his lips.
For two hours, Len repeated the process, his face unmoved, indifferent.
Eventually, the captive slumped forward, unconscious.
Kai tilted his head.
Kai: “Captain, should I take over?”
Len simply nodded and walked away.
As the door shut behind him, Kai grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight.
He crouched beside the captive, his fingers phasing through the man’s chest until they wrapped around his still-beating heart.
The man woke up with a gasp, eyes bulging in terror.
Kai (whispering): “If you don’t talk…”
He tightened his grip.
“…I’ll crush your heart.”
Still, the captive remained silent.
Kai chuckled. But instead of crushing the heart, his hand moved lower, slipping into the man's large intestine.
The captive let out a choked scream.
Blood dripped from his mouth as his body convulsed in agony.
And yet, he still refused to speak.
Kai’s grin widened.
Kai: “Shame.”
Without hesitation, he closed his fist.
The man’s body jerked violently—then went completely still.
Kai withdrew his hand, letting the corpse slump forward.
With a sigh, he muttered to himself:
Kai: “I was hoping he’d last longer.”
Then, without a sound, he vanished into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Len went to the room where Shivam was still sleeping. He washed his hands in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. For a brief moment, he saw something—his younger self, around 16 years old, with cold, emotionless eyes. It was a stark contrast to the caring look he now had toward Shivam.
Shaking off the thought, Len left to pick up breakfast for himself and Shivam.
---
As Len walked downstairs, Shivam slowly woke up. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Suddenly, he jerked upright, scanning the room.
"Where am I? How did I end up here?"
A flicker of panic ran through his mind.
"Did someone kidnap me?"
His thoughts were interrupted as the door creaked open.
Len stepped inside, carrying breakfast and smiling calmly.
Len: "Took you long enough to wake up. It’s already 8 AM."
Shivam stared at him for a moment, then his memories came rushing back.
"Right… I was with Len yesterday… We were at a stall together…"
Everything clicked into place, and he finally relaxed.