Crimson: born as noble lived as phantom

The sun had risen by the time I returned to Grim's hut.

I had left all the books I obtained from the Royal Archives with him. Now it was time to find out what he had discovered.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

“Grim?”

There was no answer.

The entire hut was filled with books.

They covered the floor, the tables, the chairs, and almost every available surface. Some were the books I had brought from the archives, while others appeared to have come from Grim's own collection.

“Grim, are you here?”

A few books suddenly fell from the top of a nearby pile.

“Were you calling me, Erik?”

The voice came from somewhere inside the mountain of books.

I stared at the pile.

After searching for a moment, I found Grim sitting in the middle of it.

“Can I ask what you're doing in there?”

“Researching.”

“Why are you imprisoned inside a cage made of books?”

“Deep thinking.”

I stared at him.

I had no idea how to respond.

“And what about all these extra books?”

“Deeper thinking.”

That was enough.

“Just tell me what you found.”

Grim's expression brightened.

“The books you brought from the archives are incredible.”

“And?”

“They contain countless stories.”

“Stories?”

I picked up one of the books lying beside him.

“Wait. Are you saying that all of these are just storybooks?”

“Not exactly.”

Grim took the book from my hands and opened it.

“The writers of that era couldn't record everything directly. So they preserved historical events in the form of stories.”

“Historical events disguised as fiction?”

“Precisely.”

He turned several pages.

“This one is about the Incantation of Evil.”

“The Incantation of Evil?”

“Let me tell you what it says.”

Grim cleared his throat and began reading.

“Approximately eight hundred years ago, the living beings of this world were consumed by evil and darkness. In response, a benevolent alchemist rose to save the world.”

I listened carefully.

“That alchemist used his magic to extract the darkness from the minds of all living beings. He then sealed that darkness within the Mountains of Desmondes.”

“The darkness was removed from every living being?”

“According to the story.”

Grim continued.

“For a time, the world rejoiced. However, the darkness within the mountains continued to grow stronger. Eventually, the seal began to weaken.”

He turned another page.

“One day, a fragment of that darkness escaped.”

“What happened after that?”

“The darkness did not immediately wage war against the living beings. Instead, it waited.”

“For what?”

“For the alchemist to die.”

I frowned.

“After the alchemist's death, the darkness searched for a suitable race to possess. That race was known as the Phantoms.”

My expression hardened.

“The darkness possessed the Phantoms and altered their blood. Through their modified bloodline, it opened the gates of Hell.”

“The gates of Hell?”

Grim nodded.

“When the gates opened, thirteen Supreme Devils emerged.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

“The devils spread chaos across the land. Kingdoms fell. Entire races were slaughtered. All hope seemed to have disappeared.”

Grim turned another page.

“But then, a hero appeared.”

“A human?”

“A human by birth.”

He continued reading.

“The hero possessed not even an ounce of darkness within him. With the power of light, he first defeated the fragment of darkness that had escaped from the mountains.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Afterward, he united humans, beastmen, elves, and every other surviving race. Together, they fought against the Phantoms and the thirteen Supreme Devils.”

“The Catastrophic War.”

“Yes.”

Grim's voice became more serious.

“The war continued for years. Humanity created three destructive weapons, but even those weapons were not enough to defeat the devils.”

“And then?”

“The strongest devil sided with the humans.”

I immediately thought of Angel.

“The devil forged a demonic contract with the hero. With the devil's assistance, the hero defeated the remaining Supreme Devils and sealed them within Hell.”

“So the war ended because of that contract.”

“According to the story, yes.”

Grim closed the book halfway.

“The Age of Phantoms came to an end. The race that had once conquered most of the world disappeared. The hero vanished as well, along with the devil who had helped him.”

“And the three weapons?”

“They were sealed away, far beyond the reach of humanity.”

I remained silent for several seconds.

That was one hell of a story.

“So Angel isn't necessarily our enemy.”

Grim nodded.

“That is what the story suggests.”

I frowned.

“That makes things more troublesome.”

“There's more.”

I looked at him.

“The Incantation of Evil was never truly destroyed.”

“What?”

“Only one fragment of it was defeated. According to another account, a second fragment escaped after the defeat of the Phantoms.”

“And that fragment is still alive?”

“That is the theory.”

I stared at the book.

“Where is it?”

Grim hesitated.

“There is no proof. But I believe it may be connected to Cros.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Cros?”

“The First Sage.”

Grim placed the book on his lap.

“The strongest of the Sacred Soul Sages.”

I remained silent.

“Cros may be the surviving fragment of the Incantation of Evil.”

The possibility immediately began to make sense.

Cros had existed for centuries.

He possessed knowledge far beyond ordinary humans.

He had repeatedly appeared throughout history under different identities.

And if he truly was the Incantation of Evil...

“He could change his face every few decades,” I muttered.

Grim nodded.

“Then he could disappear for a time before returning as the First Sage of Sacred Soul.”

I looked down at the ancient book.

“The Incantation of Evil.”

The name echoed in my mind.

“So Cros has been hiding in plain sight.”

“It's only a theory,” Grim warned.

“Perhaps.”

I closed the book.

“But after hearing this story, I can't dismiss it.”

The pieces were beginning to connect.

The Phantoms.

The Supreme Devils.

The ancient hero.

Angel.

The three catastrophic weapons.

And Cros.

If the story was true, then the greatest enemy of the past had never truly disappeared.

It had simply changed its face.

And for centuries, it had been guiding the world from the shadows.

I looked toward the window.

The morning sun had fully risen, but the room still felt dark.

“Cros,” I whispered.

“The First Sage of Sacred Soul...”

My hand tightened around the book.

“...is the surviving fragment of the Incantation of Evil.”

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