Far from the continent of the Ultras—
—The Temple—
Only a few minutes had passed.
Mere minutes since the disaster had occurred.
The crimson gate that had appeared out of nowhere. Phoenix, who had rushed through it to follow them.
And the mages, who continued to report back...
Grim reports stating that the Empire's greatest generation—those who bore the titles of Church Champions, Victoriads, the children of current lords, and the heirs of the great guildmasters ..
Alongside the greatest talent of their time .. Phoenix Sunlight .
All of them had now vanished somewhere inside the continent of the Ultras.
Ivar Valerion, the current head of the Temple, stood before the growing pile of reports, his hand pressed against the wall as a throbbing headache nearly brought him to his knees.
The more he thought about the gravity of the situation, the harder it became to find any answer.
"What do we do now?"
What could he say? What would he announce?
"So… what now? Do I simply go to the giants of the Empire and tell them—'Hello, all your children have been kidnapped and are now stranded in enemy territory?'"
A colossal disaster had just dropped onto Ivar's head. His fist clenched unconsciously and smashed into the wall beside him.
"How did this happen?"
How had they done it?
It was impossible for the Ultras to pull off something like this. There existed no spell, no ability capable of remotely tampering with a teleportation gate.
There was only one possible explanation for something this impossible—
"From the inside…"
Ivar muttered as sudden realization struck him like lightning.
To alter a teleportation gate's destination path, the interference had to come from their end. In other words, it had to be inside the temple.
And that meant only one thing.
Without hesitation, Ivar issued immediate orders.
In under a minute, the temple was sealed shut. No one was allowed to leave. Everyone was now locked inside… with Ivar.
He had already decided—if it came to it, he would shoulder all the blame. But right now, something else took priority.
"There's a traitor."
Someone among them…
A filthy spy who had orchestrated this catastrophe.
And Ivar would find them.
Standing before the very gate that had just devoured the Elite Class, the current head of the Temple understood a grim truth—
They had passed the point of no return.
The enemy had been waiting for a reason.
A reason to start a war.
And now… they had one. The cruelest one imaginable.
"Oh God… have mercy on us."
Ivar whispered with all sincerity—praying for himself, and for the teenagers now stranded deep inside enemy lands.
---
—Ultras Continent—
The other side of the gate.
The place meant to be the grave for Frey and his companions.
A full army awaited them.
Men clad in terrifying black armor, surrounded by towering buildings made of stone and black iron.
They had been waiting a long time at that gate—waiting for the sheep to come to slaughter.
But their prey never arrived.
Annoyed by the delay, a man finally reached the edge of his patience.
Dressed in a fine suit and long coat, his hand gripping the hilt of his sheathed blade, Gavid Lindman stepped forward.
"What is the meaning of this?"
His voice was deep, edged with irritation and impatience.
"I'm asking you… Beatrice."
He called out to a certain name while casting a sideways glance at a figure sitting behind him.
She was a strange woman, looking to be in her thirties, dressed in a red medieval gown adorned with black roses. Her blonde hair was hidden beneath a stylish hat. Sitting there calmly, she smiled while clasping both hands together.
"How may I serve you, Lord Lindman?"
Her voice was sweet and silky as she responded with a question of her own.
As usual, Gavid didn't bother hiding his growing impatience.
"Where are they?! Shouldn't they be here by now?"
The woman called Beatrice answered with a curious look.
"I truly wonder how they pulled it off… I'm certain I disrupted the gate's path and linked it to this location. And yet, just as they were about to arrive, they somehow diverted off course! It's a miracle!"
She seemed genuinely delighted to share the revelation.
"One of them managed to interfere with the teleportation path—something even I, the Eternal Witch, cannot do. Fascinating… how did they pull it off? Was it a tool? A spell? Just who was it? Which one of them?"
She spoke rapidly, her excitement building, until—
"Beato. You're rambling again."
A voice cut through the air as Madam A appeared beside her out of thin air.
"Ah! My apologies."
Beatrice offered a quick apology.
Gavid, in contrast, spat to the side with disgust.
"Filthy witch."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Beatrice replied as if it were praise, which only deepened Gavid's scorn.
"We gave you one task… and you failed it entirely."
"Don't be like that, Lord Lindman. I told you I'd bring them—and I did. They're somewhere in the western part of the continent."
"The western side of the continent? Am I supposed to be happy about that?"
The Ultras Continent was anything but small.
"And what now? Do you want to punish me? Oh, why don't you plunge that beloved sword of yours deep into my chest? Right here."
Beatrice tapped a spot just above her heart, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Gavid's face twisted in disgust.
"I have no intention of staining my blade with the blood of one of your puppets."
"So cold-hearted… as always, Lord Lindman."
She let out a melodic laugh.
"You have no idea how much effort went into crafting that homunculus you call a puppet. You should be grateful—without her, none of this would've been possible."
Who would have thought…
That elegant woman, seemingly perfect in every way, was nothing but a puppet.
And just like that—
"No need to worry. The Empire will never uncover my other doll, hehehehe~"
Beatrice twisted her eye between her fingers, revealing far more than she should've.
Gavid, unfazed and unimpressed, turned away from her, barking orders to his troops.
"To all forces… the High Blood… spread across the continent and awaken every servant of the Lesser Blood!"
"The targets are the Empire's prodigies. Whoever brings them back—dead or alive—shall be honored with blood and glory! Leave no corner of the continent unsearched!"
"Yes, sir!!"
The army roared in unison.
And just like that… the hunt began.
A continent rose—against twenty-two souls.