seven Legion

Suddenly, the figure cast a spell… It was as if time itself had frozen. The air stilled and the night became eerily silent. The figure knelt beside Ken and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Wake up, Ken."

A voice, soft yet firm, called out to him. Ken's eyelids fluttered open, his mind groggy from sleep. But the moment his vision cleared and he saw the shadowy figure, drowsiness vanished like smoke in the wind. His body tensed as his breath caught in his throat.

"You… What are you doing here, Witch of Curse?!"

His voice was a mixture of shock and suspicion, his instincts warning him to keep his guard up.

The Witch of Curse simply smiled, her expression unreadable. Her deep, chilling voice carried an unsettling calmness.

"How are you doing? Sorry to wake you, but do you mind taking a little stroll with me?"

Ken hesitated, glancing toward Hel and the others. He wasn't sure if he should just leave like this.

"What about Hel and—"

Before he could finish, the Witch of Curse cut him off.

"Don't worry about them. I've placed a spell here; they won't notice anything."

Ken glanced at his surroundings, noticing how unnaturally still everything was. It was as if the world had been placed under a trance. He sighed, realizing resistance was pointless.

"Okay..."

And so, in a strange turn of events, Ken found himself walking alongside the Witch of Curse. They strolled through the darkened academy grounds, their footsteps echoing against the stone paths. A heavy silence settled between them. Ken felt the weight of unspoken words pressing against his mind.

Then, she finally broke the silence.

"Do you want to know about the undead energy that emerged from the magic stone when you placed your hand on it?"

Ken stopped walking for a moment. His eyes widened as he processed her words.

Of course, he had been curious about it. He had even considered asking her. But now, the opportunity had presented itself without him needing to speak. A part of him knew there had to be a catch.

He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want in return?"

The Witch of Curse raised an eyebrow, as if slightly amused by his response.

"What do you mean by that?"

Ken folded his arms.

"Nothing is free in this world. If you're offering me something so important, then you must want something in return."

She chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of approval.

"Well, aren't you a clever one?" She tilted her head. "Fine, how about this? I want you to grow stronger—because right now, you're too weak."

Ken clenched his jaw. He knew she was right, but hearing it from her stung his pride. He remained silent, absorbing her words.

She continued.

"It won't be too hard for you. At least, when you become strong enough, I promise everything will start making sense."

Ken took a deep breath, pushing aside his irritation. His expression hardened with determination.

"Okay, then tell me!"

The Witch of Curse's smirk faded slightly as she observed him. Then, she spoke.

"Well then, for starters, how much do you know about your father?"

Ken frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean by that?"

"So, he never told you anything... That's just like Rick. He never talked much, huh?"

She glanced at Ken before continuing.

"Then let me tell you the tale of the Devil of the Undead."

Ken's heart pounded at the name.

"Is that why Hel called me 'Son of the Devil' when we first met?" he thought.

"Your father was the commander of the Seventh Legion," she revealed. "In his prime, he was known as the Devil of the Undead. He fought countless battles and wars—never once tasting defeat. He was a leading figure in the Undead Continent... but then, he met your mother."

Ken's breath hitched. His mother?

"M-my mother?!" he blurted out unconsciously.

"Calm down"

Ken took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed.

"Sorry, I let my emotions get the better of me."

The Witch of Curse continued.

"I won't tell you about your mother just yet. You're too weak to know right now, so don't get your hopes up."

Ken clenched his fists but nodded.

"Don't worry. I know I'm too weak right now."

"Good," she said. "Just know that after meeting your mother, something happened... and overnight, the Seventh Legion disappeared. People still remember them, but no one knows where they are. Some say they were wiped out, while others believe they still live in the shadows."

She let out a sigh before continuing, her voice carrying a hint of something Ken couldn't quite place—regret?

"But the truth is, your father disbanded the Legion. As for the reason... you're too weak to know."

Ken's irritation grew. He hated feeling powerless. He wanted to get stronger—fast. But he controlled himself and asked,

"But why are you telling me all this? How is it related to my black aura?"

The Witch of Curse's tone became calmer.

"Your father also had a black aura. That aura signifies that you were chosen by a 'Marshal' of a Legion at birth. I suppose you could call it destiny."

Ken's eyes widened.

"Then... am I going to become a commander of a Legion?"

She smirked.

"Only if you can find the Marshal who chose you and make a contract with him. It could be your father's Marshal... or perhaps a Marshal from another Legion."

Ken's excitement faded slightly.

"But where can I find this Marshal? And how will I even know if he's the one who chose me?"

"Well, if it was your father's Marshal who chose you, then you're in luck—because he's here, in the academy."

Ken froze.

"Here?" he repeated, stunned.

The Witch of Curse nodded and looked ahead at a building in front of them.

"Yes. He's in that building."

Ken's surprise grew when he recognized it.

"In your office?"