DING!
The sound reverberated across the frozen plains like a shockwave of bone. Everyone instinctively turned toward the Frozen Cathedral, its frostbitten spires rising like jagged teeth on the horizon. And from its towering doors—now wide open—they came.
Marching.
No stomps, no cries—just the sound of crunching ice beneath countless feet… or what looked like feet.
There wasn't just one figure. There were dozens. Robed from head to toe, they moved in synchronised steps, like they were being pulled forward by a shared, invisible rhythm.
Jaemin's FOCUS flared.
PING!
[New Abyssal Class Discovered: The Crytharis.]
He narrowed his eyes, letting the FOCUS sharpen the data.
They were humanoid, yes—but only in structure. Not in the way they moved, not in the way they looked.
Their faces were like porcelain masks, too smooth, unnervingly pale, but cracked in the head, fractures as if pressure from within was threatening to burst them open.
They had no mouths, no vocal cords—and yet, the air was filled with a cold pressure, like their emotions were being pushed outward in silent psychic pulses.
It didn't sound. It wasn't a voice. It was just there, crawling into the bones.
Their eyes were deep black sockets, and from within them shimmered a ghostly cyan light, the kind you see reflected in the deepest parts of glacial caves. A distant glow with no source.
Their heads were elongated at the back, shaped like a bishop's hood—except crowned with floating, crystal shard rings that shimmered in fractured, jagged orbits. Not a halo. Just... wrong.
Arcane sigils, twisted and carved in Abyssal script, covered their robes—tattered, faded, and frostbitten. Some of their lower bodies didn't even end in legs, but in cracked obelisks, as if their torsos were grafted onto upright slabs of cathedral crystal.
And all of them were walking.
Marching.
In absolute silence.
No one moved. Jaemin's squad—Kim Rae-ah, Ji-yoo, the others—they were frozen. Not just from the cold, but from the weight of what they were seeing.
"What… the hell are those things…"
Rae-ah whispered, barely audible.
Jaemin didn't speak. His eyes were focused—not on the Crytharis—but on something behind them. Something is still within the cathedral.
Because the bell… had only rung once.
And for something that massive… one toll was never enough.
Everyone scrambled back behind Jaemin as the imposing Crytharis advanced, their presence alone heavy enough to silence the air. But Jaemin's gaze didn't waver.
His eyes locked on a faint form sprawled just behind him — Hwang Seungho's unconscious body.
The bell of the Cathedral knocked him unconscious, just what is in there that is so strong...
Lost in that dark thought, Jaemin noticed the Crytharis begin to part, forming a path through their ranks. From that opening emerged a figure — different, unmistakably commanding.
The man's face was human-shaped, yet eerily perfect: smooth, ice-pale skin, lips forever stitched into a faint, unreadable smile. His pupils were absent, replaced by faint silver irises pulsing with a rhythmic light.
He wore ceremonial frost-silk robes that draped his dense, wiry body. Despite the flowing fabric, his muscles were tight and sharp like a monk's — starved but still deadly.
From his back protruded bone-like tubes, arranged in a radial crown shape, humming softly, each vibrating with silent hymns that seemed to fill the air. His mouth didn't move, but power sang through his body with every breath he took.
He walked calmly, unhurried. But when provoked, he would erupt with a cold, methodical fury — attacking not from anger, but as part of some dreadful ritual.
Jaemin's Focus pinged sharply.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
TING!
[Name: Cantor Seraphor, Priest of the Withered Hymns]
[Species: Crythari]
[Role: High Priest]
"So that's the boss."
Jaemin muttered under his breath.
Behind him, the others' heavy breaths told of their growing fear. Jaemin knew these Crytharis hadn't come for idle threats — they were here to kill.
Suddenly, a chilling voice muttered in Abyssal tongues. Thanks to both the Focus and the Core of Shadows, Jaemin understood every word as if whispered in his mind.
The cold voice drifted out from Cantor Seraphor like smoke curling off dry ice.
"Leader… are you their leader?"
It didn't sound like a threat — more like a ceremony.
Jaemin's voice didn't break — calm, indifferent,
"Does it matter?"
Seraphor's stitched smile never moved, but the words still flowed.
"Very well. I shall assume you are the leader of the humans, then."
"What do you want?"
Jaemin asked, eyes narrowing.
"Give us your humans."
Seraphor replied, utterly void of emotion.
"And we shall open this rift and let you go free. We do not wish to fight you."
That was it. Straight from the High Priest's mouth — a trade.
"Why?"
Jaemin demanded.
"Why do you need them?"
"To sacrifice. To satisfy the Withered Hymn."
Click!
A scoff left Jaemin's lips. No words.
FSSHHK!
His daggers coalesced in his hands, cyan and violet. The Binary Stars flared to life.
"No."
"Very well."
Seraphor's eyes dimmed slightly.
"Then be warned… You are outnumbered."
Jaemin grinned.
"Yeah… but see, with the right stack of magic tricks—"
He tilted his head.
"—I usually even the odds. Or odd the even…"
It sounded cooler in his head.
FWOOSH!
light surged — Resonants emerged one by one.
Behind Jaemin, utter silence.
"…WHAT ON EARTH!!!"
Ji-yoo shrieked from the back. They were all backing up, wide-eyed. Even Rae-ah had frozen in place.
Jaemin didn't turn around. He wasn't going to explain.
With them out of the way, he had room to breathe.
Seraphor turned slightly, facing his army.
"Go."
The Crytharis surged forward, gliding across the snow like phantoms. Their frozen hymns burst from their bodies — not sounds, but frequencies — and the battlefield was flooded with psychic pressure, each wave a muffling blanket on the senses.
The hymns slowed the movement. They dulled reaction. A human coreborn wouldn't be able to lift a finger.
Except…
Jaemin didn't feel it.
At least, not for long.
PING!
[ALERT: Harmful energy detected. You have been DEBUFFED.]
PING!
[ALERT: Debuff has been overridden.]
"Yeah… that's not gonna work on me."
He stepped forward, raising one blade.
"Now let me show you what I do to false priests."
As expected, the Crythari hymns had no lasting effect on Jaemin — his Focus system overrode the psychic toxins with ease, leaving him immune to their slowing presence.
But it wasn't the same for his Resonants.
CLINK!
CLASH!
SLICE!
Steel rang and danced as the battlefield exploded into chaos. The Crythari fought in complete silence, their attacks graceful but brutal — coordinated as if following some invisible song. Their blades curved unnaturally, slicing through ambient aura, overpowering several of Jaemin's Resonants.
It was clear: the Crythari weren't just cannon fodder — they were elite. Possibly the equivalent of Coreborn captains in skill and agility.
But Jaemin's army wasn't weak either.
Despite the sheer pressure, the battle didn't spiral out of control.
The Golems, monstrous and brutal, were still standing tall, their massive fists smashing through Crythari ranks.
The Behemoth, with its iron armour and obsidian legs, bulldozed through the frozen choir like a living earthquake, flattening three to five Crytharis at once with every stomp.
FWOOOSH!
Up above, the Arcanists finished their incantation — a ball of spiralling cyan arcane energy flared to life, ten times larger than before.
KABOOM!!
The blast flattened an entire wave of Crytharis in one massive detonation, shards of crystal and robes scattered across the ice like broken relics. Their glassy helmets shattered. Their obelisk legs cracked. Dozens of them are gone in one strike.
Jaemin's Focus pinged.
TING!
[Your Resonants have levelled up.]
Shrouds → Level 2
Mourner→ Level 8
He smirked.
The battlefield was balanced. The Crythari army had begun to thin, and his Resonants were now evolving mid-battle, growing stronger with every kill, faster with every moment.
But across the snowy field… stood Seraphor.
Unmoving.
His icy longsword radiated a frost so cold that the air around it shimmered like glass. In his other hand — a dagger, smaller, but laced with swirling blue glyphs. That one felt dangerous. Not stronger in power… but in intention.
That dagger wasn't for war. It was for ritual.
Jaemin's eye twitched as Seraphor raised the weapons.
"Guess we're not done yet…"
CLANK!
The sound was sharp, clean, and violent — Jaemin's Binary Stars clashed head-on with Seraphor's crystal dagger and sword. Each hit carried power, but neither gave way.
CLANK! CLANK!
Seraphor's movements were eerie — no wasted steps, no sound, just precise counters. He was matching Jaemin blow-for-blow, not out of desperation or instinct — but with ritualistic, rehearsed calm. As if he'd fought this duel in a hundred dreams before.
Jaemin's strikes got sharper. He twisted low, cut up, feinted high — nothing worked.
SILENCE.
The High Priest's pale face didn't flinch. He didn't breathe. He didn't blink. He just fought.
SWOOSH!
Jaemin leapt high into the air, flipping backwards to create space. He landed light, boot skidding against the frost.
Far across the battlefield—
But something else was stirring...
Hwang Seungho stirred. Blood dried on his lips, his face pale, his body limp... but his eyes opened.
And when he saw Jaemin — alive, standing, fighting — something snapped inside him.
That bastard was still breathing?
That weakling… was standing tall… commanding shadow armies?
The rage was instant. The shame of failure. The deaths of his team. All of it boiled up and erupted.
"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"
Hwang Seungho roared, fist glowing with flaming Bastion aura, sprinting across the field like a berserker, ignoring everything else — the Crythari, the shadows, the Resonants.
He only saw Jaemin.
But then-
SLICE!
Cantor Seraphor threw a powerful ice shard and deadly speed, straight onto his chest.
CRACKK-KRSH!
"Do not get in my way...child.
Jaemin didn't even look back. He just stood still — expression blank. All Hwang Seungho saw in his final moment was Jaemin's back. Farther than he could ever reach.Higher than he could ever climb.
And then—"Well, guess I'll give another chance...Override."
WOOSH!!!
Bright energy burst out of Hwang Seungho's body, not in drips — but like a dam breaking.
