The night felt unusually heavy.
Not stormy.
Not violent.
Yet heavy.
As though the island itself was holding its breath.
Inside his dormitory room.
The candle flame flickered softly.
Shadows danced across scattered reports and maps.
The investigation had reached a crossroads.
For weeks.
Kel had followed rumors.
Legends.
Contradictions.
Now.
For the first time.
He had a direction.
A real direction.
The silver-haired youth stood beside the window.
His golden eyes gazed toward the distant sea.
Moonlight painted the ocean silver.
Countless waves rolled endlessly against the shore.
Inside his mind.
Seiren remained unusually quiet.
The Guardian was thinking.
Very seriously.
Eventually.
Kel broke the silence.
"Seiren."
The Guardian looked up.
"Hm?"
The silver-haired youth turned toward the sea.
"Where did you find those footprints?"
A pause.
"The ones you mentioned."
Seiren immediately understood.
The enormous tracks.
The strange impressions.
The signs of something moving between sea and land.
The evidence she discovered days ago.
The Guardian closed her eyes.
Reviewing memories.
Reviewing locations.
Then answered.
"Beneath the cliff."
Silence.
Kel froze.
Not visibly.
But mentally.
Several puzzle pieces suddenly connected.
The abandoned manor.
The grieving noblewoman.
The dark arts.
The rewritten legend.
The ocean.
And now—
Footprints.
Beneath the cliff.
The same cliff.
The same location.
The same place appearing repeatedly throughout every version of the story.
Inside his mind.
Seiren immediately noticed.
"You connected something."
Kel nodded slowly.
Then spoke.
"Let's move."
The Guardian blinked.
"Now?"
"Now."
The answer came instantly.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
Seiren stared.
Then immediately objected.
"Absolutely not."
The room fell silent.
Kel raised an eyebrow.
"Hm?"
The Guardian crossed her arms.
"You are suicidal."
The accusation arrived immediately.
"Do you even realize what you're saying?"
Seiren floated before him.
Blue eyes narrowed.
Serious.
Very serious.
"If your theory is correct."
"And there really is a monster beneath that cliff."
"Then you're planning to confront it alone."
A pause.
"At night."
Another pause.
"After sealing ninety-nine percent of your powers."
The Guardian pointed dramatically.
"This is called suicide."
Kel remained calm.
Perhaps too calm.
Then shook his head.
"Not a monster."
Seiren frowned.
The silver-haired youth looked toward the moonlit ocean.
His expression became thoughtful.
Almost melancholic.
"Not anymore."
The Guardian listened.
Kel continued.
"A lady."
A pause.
"A lady consumed by grief."
The ocean waves crashed against distant cliffs.
The room remained silent.
The words felt strangely heavy.
Not because they were certain.
Because they felt possible.
The silver-haired youth continued quietly.
"Someone who lost everything."
"Someone who turned toward forbidden power."
"Someone who survived when she should have died."
His gaze moved toward the dark horizon.
"Someone who is no longer human."
The Guardian remained silent.
Then asked softly.
"And now?"
Kel's answer came immediately.
"An uncategorized thing."
The room fell silent.
The phrase sounded harsh.
Yet accurate.
Not human.
Not monster.
Not spirit.
Not beast.
Something in-between.
Something that didn't belong anywhere.
A mistake created through grief and dark arts.
Inside his mind.
Seiren looked troubled.
"You really believe it?"
Kel nodded.
"The clues align."
A pause.
"The Leviathan young."
"The missing sea creatures."
"The cores."
The Guardian slowly understood.
Then her eyes widened.
"The cores..."
Kel nodded.
Exactly.
Monster cores.
Magical cores.
The concentrated essence of powerful creatures.
Ancient rituals often required enormous energy.
And maintaining transformations required even more.
The silver-haired youth spoke quietly.
"Leviathan young are powerful."
"They possess stable magical structures."
"They possess enormous vitality."
"They possess exceptional cores."
The room grew colder.
Because suddenly.
Everything made sense.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough to form a horrifying possibility.
A creature surviving for centuries.
Sustaining itself.
Feeding upon magical cores.
Seeking increasingly powerful prey.
And eventually targeting Leviathans.
The same Leviathans whose disappearance triggered this investigation.
Inside his mind.
Seiren remained silent for several moments.
Then sighed.
A very long sigh.
"I hate it."
Kel smiled faintly.
"Because it sounds plausible?"
The Guardian nodded.
"Because it sounds tragic."
Silence followed.
Neither spoke.
Sometimes.
The worst monsters were not born from evil.
Sometimes.
They were born from suffering.
Eventually.
Kel began preparing.
The silver-haired youth opened a storage ring.
A dark cloak emerged.
Simple.
Practical.
Then a mask.
Plain.
Featureless.
Something that concealed identity completely.
Inside his mind.
Seiren watched quietly.
"You're really going."
"Yes."
"You're impossible."
"Frequently."
The Guardian rubbed her forehead.
Then suddenly smiled.
A dangerous smile.
One very familiar to Kel.
"Fine."
The silver-haired youth paused.
"Hm?"
The Guardian crossed her arms proudly.
"If you're going to investigate something ancient, tragic, and potentially horrifying..."
A pause.
"I'm coming too."
Kel laughed softly.
The sound surprised even Seiren.
Because genuine laughter from him was rare.
Very rare.
Then the silver-haired youth nodded.
"Naturally."
Moments later.
The dormitory window opened.
A shadow slipped into the night.
Silent.
Almost invisible.
The academy remained unaware.
Students slept peacefully.
Professors prepared tomorrow's lectures.
The society members continued debating rumors.
Nobody knew.
Nobody realized.
That the object of all their discussions had already reached a conclusion.
And was now moving toward the answer.
The cliff awaited.
Ancient.
Dark.
Standing above the endless sea.
Kel moved through moonlit streets.
His cloak fluttered behind him.
His masked face hidden from all eyes.
The city gradually disappeared.
Stone roads became dirt paths.
Dirt paths became rocky trails.
The ocean grew louder.
Wilder.
More ancient.
Eventually.
The cliff appeared.
Towering above black waters.
The same cliff overlooking the abandoned manor.
The same cliff connected to every version of the legend.
The same cliff beneath which Seiren discovered the footprints.
Kel stopped at its edge.
Moonlight illuminated the ocean below.
The waves crashed violently against jagged rocks.
A cold wind swept across the coastline.
Inside his mind.
Seiren spoke quietly.
For once.
Without jokes.
Without teasing.
Only seriousness.
"It's down there."
Kel's golden eyes narrowed.
Far below.
Near the waterline.
Something moved.
Just briefly.
A shadow.
Too large.
Too deliberate.
Too unnatural.
Then it vanished again.
The ocean returned to silence.
But both of them had seen it.
And for the first time since beginning this investigation—
Kel felt certain.
The legend was waiting.
Not in the past.
Not in old stories.
Not in forgotten records.
But beneath the cliff itself.
Still alive.
Still watching.
Still grieving.