Sitting in a finely ornate armchair, Connor, a dimension walker from the “Oculus of the Border” organization, couldn't help but frown at the sight before him. It was something he never, not even in his wildest dreams, thought he'd see come true. The pinnacle of a disaster that perhaps should never have happened.

  It all began with the disappearance of several groups of adventurers tasked with exploring the forests, specifically in the vast territory north of the Duchy of Bresmitz. This immediately caught the attention of Connor and everyone involved in the search for the culprit of the massacre at the Musall Manor.

  At first, everyone thought it was the appearance of some high-level beast or a forest guardian when the disappearance of the first group of adventurers was confirmed. But when a second, and then a third, group disappeared, all the alarm bells went off in the guild, forcing the immediate withdrawal of the remaining teams.

  The incident prompted a response from almost all local authorities and led to the deployment of several military units to the area bordering the forest where the adventurers had allegedly disappeared.

  For days and weeks, the cause of the disappearances was sought, but nothing came of it. Connor even had to deal with complaints from an enraged earl and the guild, which mourned the loss of nearly twenty of its highest-ranking adventurers in the area, including one of its few level-six mages.

  Despite the disaster, Connor understood that he was getting closer to his goal, and that these disappearances had a direct connection to the individual he was seeking. The fact that so many experienced, high-level mages had vanished so easily only revealed the danger posed by this new threat, which he hoped to fully uncover.

  But unfortunately, he didn't have time to take advantage of this information or organize a new exploration of the forest, as new problems began to arise, this time directly within the cities of the Duchy of Bresmitz.

  First, there was the disappearance of figures linked to the black market of magic: an area supposedly hidden, but in reality deeply intervened and controlled by the Empire. Influential merchants and figures connected to local governments disappeared without a trace, only to have their mutilated remains appear days later on roads outside the same cities.

  It would all have been considered a series of isolated crimes, especially considering they occurred in different parts of the duchy, if not for one common detail: All the bodies had cuts in their skin with the words "Oculus" and "Connor" carved precisely into them. A clear, direct, and impossible-to-ignore message.

  If the murders were intended to divert the authorities' attention elsewhere, the culprit—or culprits—had achieved their objective, as Connor was forced to dedicate all his time and personnel to hunting down one or more serial killers willing to directly challenge the highest authorities of the Empire.

  Everyone who knew the true meaning of the Oculus of the Border knew that provoking them was suicidally stupid. However, those who committed the murders proved to be experts in the art of disappearing, leaving behind only the message and a scene reminiscent of the atrocious acts that only the most twisted cursed cults were accustomed to committing.

  And it wasn't long before the murders began to target individuals of greater power and hierarchy: low-ranking nobles, garrison captains, and finally figures directly linked to the duchy's administration. It was then that everyone realized that the culprits were not simple criminals or fanatics, but magicians with considerable strength, capable of moving without a trace and carrying out their crimes at precisely the right moments. Panic soon spread like a disease.

  However, ordinary people viewed the events differently. Although the terror and military restrictions that arose stifled their already limited freedom, they soon noticed a pattern: all the victims were individuals with a detestable reputation in society. Men who for years had abused their power, crushing the weaker under the weight of their influence. Thus, while the nobles began to feel fear in their fortified mansions, the slums filled with murmurs of satisfaction and whispered prayers for the "invisible vigilante" to continue his work. In the shadows, a dangerous hope began to develop: the idea that someone was finally punishing the untouchables.

  The authorities' panic grew as the pattern became impossible to deny. Each corpse continued to appear accompanied by the same marks etched into the skin. An unequivocal message to Connor, who seemed to increasingly boast of his impunity, in what now seemed to be a permanent mockery and open defiance. Something that forced the Oculus of the Border to deploy more personnel to hunt down the culprits.

  When the victims surpassed one hundred, Connor began to suspect that perhaps he had made a mistake in challenging this new emerging force. The attacks by the cursed cults paled in comparison to the scale of the phenomenon, which not only plunged the entire duchy into chaos but also began to alter the political balance of the region. The high command demanded results, the guilds refused to send more adventurers, and the nobles accused each other of collaborating with the enemy. Order itself was crumbling.

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  Meanwhile, the town celebrated. In the taverns, new cases were recounted like legends. Among them, the most famous were those of Baron Eclistes and Captain Kimmer. The former, infamous for abusing his servants and making his slaves disappear, was found dismembered in his room; his head was found nailed to a stake in the central square, his genitals in his mouth, a grotesque symbol of his own depravity. The latter, a captain renowned for his corruption and his alleged involvement in the kidnapping of children from peasant families, was found hanging from a low branch of a tree, his stomach stuffed with silver coins and two gold pieces replacing his eyes.

  No matter how many soldiers were deployed or what measures the authorities took, the culprits remained ghosts. The murders were repeated in different cities, late at night, leaving no trace or witnesses. It was as if the cursed forest itself had extended its roots to the heart of civilization.

  And then, when the dead already included level-five mages and renowned authorities, the Duke himself had to intervene, declaring a state of siege throughout the duchy, mobilizing his best military units, and declaring that anyone found involved in any way with the murders would be executed without trial.

  It was then that the spectacle took on a completely surreal tone for everyone involved. The victims were no longer just nobles, merchants, or mages, but the very soldiers and officers tasked with capturing the culprits. The line between hunters and prey had vanished.

  The Duchy of Bresmitz covers a vast territory, too large for the number of troops that could be deployed in its major cities and towns. Detachments sent to patrol the roads, unaware of what they were facing, began to disappear or were simply ambushed at their resting places, leaving veritable carnage. Entire patrols were found annihilated, even within the cities themselves. Within weeks, fear turned into mass hysteria. Soldiers refused to go out at night, commanders falsified reports to avoid sanctions, and rumors of desertions spread like an invisible wildfire.

  Four months after the murders began, the tragedy reached its breaking point: the Oculus itself suffered its first casualties. Four level-five mages and one level-six magi, assigned to protect a provincial governor, were found decapitated in the official residence. The governor's body lay in the center of the main hall, skinned and arranged like a macabre trophy. At his feet, drawn in blood, was a smiling face.

  That event changed everything. The entire Duchy realized they were no longer facing an assassin or an isolated group, but a highly organized force with advanced knowledge of stealth, strategy, and terror. It was the breaking point that forced the Empire to intervene directly.

  The Imperial Council declared the incident a high-level threat, authorizing the deployment of troops from nearby kingdoms and the arrival of high-ranking mages—levels seven and eight—to reinforce the investigation. Even the Church, which until then had remained on the sidelines, sent representatives. Interestingly, no member of the clergy had been targeted during the entire wave of murders, a fact that was a source of relief for some, and a sign of suspicion for others.

  Connor, meanwhile, became the center of the storm. He was interrogated countless times by Imperial agents, inquisitors, and high-ranking officials. His name, engraved on almost every victim, made him an uncomfortable suspect, but also the only person with the authority and knowledge to understand the magnitude of the enemy. His reputation hung in the balance.

  Still, there was something positive in his misfortune: finally, his warnings regarding the Musall Manor case and the mysterious power moving in the shadows were taken seriously. The price, however, had been too high. The pieces on the board no longer responded to any logic, and Connor began to suspect that what was behind it all was not simply an organization, but something far more complex, perhaps capable of matching or surpassing the cursed cults, at least in the damage they could cause to empires.

  However, to everyone's surprise, the murders abruptly stopped. As if a shadow that had covered the Duchy for months had vanished overnight. The following days passed with an artificial calm, charged with an almost unbearable tension. No one knew whether to celebrate or fear what this sudden silence meant.

  During the first few weeks, the general population began to breathe a sigh of relief. Patrols returned to the streets, merchants reopened their shops, and life seemed to return to a degree of normalcy, within all the restrictions imposed by the empire. But the authorities, far from finding solace, sank into even deeper confusion. With no clues, no culprits, and no real closure, the military high command was paralyzed. Most of the operations had been designed to catch the killers in the act, not to hunt down ghosts who had apparently decided to stop.

  A full month passed without a single assassination. Under pressure from guilds and nobles, the Duke and the imperial authorities were forced to relax the state of emergency, withdrawing some troops and allowing trade routes to reopen. This decision was not made out of conviction, but rather out of political exhaustion and economic necessity. However, the oracles consulted were unanimous in their warnings: the culprits were still there, within the same region.

  Connor, for his part, did not share the general optimism. He had seen too many times how silence preceded tragedy. Everything inside him told him that this was not the end, but a pause… a held breath before the next blow.

  And although no one would openly admit it, everyone—from the lowest soldier to the Duke himself—felt the same thing: the sensation that something was watching, waiting for the exact moment to move again.

  And unfortunately for Connor, the prediction came true.

  In the opulent room, lit only by the flickering light of a chandelier, the mage sat in a velvety armchair, his back rigid and his hands clenched on the carved dark wood arms. Anger mingled with disbelief on his face. Before him lay an image he could not have conceived even in his worst visions.

  The lifeless body of Earl Nurath, that sharp-tongued and proud nobleman, renowned for his influence in the adventurers' guild and who had helped Connor begin his explorations in the forests, lay slumped in his favorite chair. His face, once always bright and eloquent, now looked an unnatural white; The blackened lips contrasted with the pallor of his skin, and a hole yawned in the center of his chest, where the inside could be clearly seen. The heart had simply vanished.

  Connor felt a surge of rage course through him from his stomach to his temples. Not only were they back… but they'd killed a genuine level-7 mage.

  His gaze slowly lifted to the wall behind the corpse, where someone had written in thick, uneven strokes of blood, now dried and blackened, forming a message that chilled the entire room: "Did you miss me?"

  The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Connor gritted his teeth, knowing that the worst part wasn't the message, nor the corpse in front of him… but the fact that, once again, the enemy had exceeded all expectations.