Everyone in the Academy was confused, they watched as the crimson mist slowly fell down, unable to do anything to it. For some reason, the soldiers at the gate along with the communication devices that connected the gate to the main stream system of the Academy were also unreachable.
Something was definitely wrong.
A man with a silver hair packed into a ponytail behind, and a full grey beard stared at the wall with a dark expression on his face, his black eyes darkening like veils of clouds gathering for a heavy downpour.
He wore a simple, suit-like attire with a white, high necked cloak fluttering behind his back.
Two more instructors came to his side and bowed.
“Head Instructor, we have confirmed that no one is currently at the wall.”
The Head instructor frowned.
“What? Why?”
The other one of the instructors responded, his tone was sharp and witty.
“The last feed was that of a scream, we think they might have been attacked.”
“Attacked? By what?”
The Head Instructor turned to the red mist as it was nearing the ground now.
Annette landed behind him, causing the ground to crack, she stood up, donning a cross-necked garb that also fluttered in the subtle wind.
“Head instructor, what is going on?”
The man glanced at Annette, his dark expression did not change any bit, almost as if he did not care if she was here or not. But he responded.
“We have lost communication with the wall… and then there’s this strange creeping mist, that is drawing nearer to us.”
Annette stared at the mist for a few seconds, silent. Then she spoke.
“Head Instructor, am I permitted to speak freely.”
The man looked at Annette with a grimace but responded evenly nonetheless.
“You can speak Lady Annette, you’re a Librarian.”
Annette looked at the mist—it was closer to the ground now and more were even spilling over, it seemed like the entire sky was getting consumed by the strange Mist. And the wall itself. No signs of the alloy wall of the Academy itself could be seen, everything was consumed by the crimson mist.
“I think… the Sea of Crimson Clouds is spilling over…”
The Head Instructor’s eyes widened at once.
“What?!!”
He stared at Annette, eyes widened and trembling. Then he shifted to the wall. His voice shook.
“That… that is not even possible! Do you have any idea what you’re saying?!”
Annette looked at him with a resolute light in her eyes.
“Oh I do Head Instructor. And I know you do too. You’ve been the Head Instructor in this school for close to forty years. There’s no way you don’t know that Milhwa was built on the corpse of a monster.”
The instructor’s expression darkened into a grimace, shooting fires at Annette.
“You! How dare you make such statements?! Do you know the implications of what you speak?!”
Annette frowned at the man.
“You either be obsessed with keeping those dirty secrets or finding a way to save the school. To find a way to deal with whatever this is, we must first understand what it is we are dealing with. Keeping secrets is useless now!”
The Head Instructor’s eyes was still widened. He shook his head with a very foreboding darkness shadowing his face.
“You… you don’t know what you are asking for… this is not the sea of Crimson Clouds. I’m sure this is something else, I will not tell into your reckless trap.”
Annette slapped her face in frustration and disappointment. She was silent for a second only to face him and yell with a terrifying voice.
“The Academy is going fall for Fach’s sake!! The Academy is GOING TO FALL!!”
The man did not look at her, instead he stared at the crimson clouds that were now misting on the ground, consuming the greenery lawns of the Academy fore front, everything was immediately died red as it passed, forever dyed by the cloud.
The instructors were sparsely Positioned in the front of the Academy, each of them with a slightly horrified expression on their faces.
It wasn’t only Annette that was thinking the way she was. Every other person also was, but their suspicion was groundless. Annette though, had a clear understanding of what she was saying and knew that definitely, the Head Instructor, the Principal, Heimburger and many other high Instructors would definitely know about it.
That they were playing dumb even at a time like this was just extremely annoying.
While she was waiting for a response from the Head Instructor, suddenly, something wailed from inside the mist and without a waste of second, it flew outside, pouncing on one of the instructors.
All the others activated their talents, wanting to shoot at the creature, but it had vanished before they could register it in their line of sight.
All of a sudden another instructor cried our with a guttural wail, he was pushed to the ground and in one swift movement, his head was yanked off, causing blood to splash all over the concrete ground.
The crimson mist thickened.
Screams shattered the tense silence as a second instructor dropped, his head torn clean from his shoulders, rolling into the spreading red haze. The others didn’t wait.
“Engage!”
The Head Instructor barked, his voice like thunder, pulling the scattered instructors from their shock.
Talents flared to life.
A wall of flames erupted from the fingertips of one of the instructors, arcing into the mist like a barrier. But the fog didn’t burn. It moved through the fire—snuffing it out with an eerie hiss—and surged forward in tendrils.
“Form up!”
A spearman shouted, stabbing forward as another shadow burst from the mist.
He struck true—his spear piercing something, something with flesh—but the creature seemed to giggle. A wheezing, hollow cackle that sounded too close to human and far too wrong.
Then came the retaliation.
A crimsom limb, jagged and hooked at the end, shot forward and tore through his armor like it was parchment, dragging him bodily into the fog. A crunch followed. Then silence.
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