The next morning, sunlight filtered through the towering canopy, casting a gentle wash over the weathered stone walls of the Stargazer Tower.

  Shadowling stood atop the stove, triumphantly stirring a skillet filled with a concoction of unidentifiable ingredients. His long tail, coiled around a spice bottle of dubious origin, shook a haphazard dusting into the pan.

  “Today, I’ll make them see me differently!” he chirped to himself.

  By the hearth, Gru lay dozing. One head nodded in sleep, while the other stared fixedly toward the stove, nose twitching. The expression on his face was… complicated.

  Chelorra sat quietly at the dining table, nursing a cup of tea. She wore her usual desert garb; a dagger tucked into the broad sash at her waist. Before her sat a breakfast of her own making: toasted bread, fried eggs, and stew—simple, yet undeniably fragrant.

  She glanced sideways toward the stove—as expected, Shadowling was up to something again.

  Chelorra tilted her head slightly, considering.

  If she intervened now, would it wound some fragile sense of pride?

  After all, living with them for so long, Shadowling had not only learned to speak the human tongue—he was starting to resemble a human in other ways as well.

  Footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

  Mobius entered the kitchen clad in a dark woolen robe. Intricate floral patterns were embroidered along the collar, wide cuffs, and hem, while gold and silver threads woven into his sash shimmered faintly in the morning light.

  He rubbed at his tousled black hair, eyes still heavy with sleep, until his nose gave a sudden, sharp twitch. An indescribable odor hung in the air—a chaotic blend of sugar, raw fish, and something burnt.

  “…What is that smell?” He frowned. “A… salted-fish-flavored dessert?”

  Shadowling immediately bounded over, presenting a plate of “cooking.” He balanced it atop his head and offered it up like a treasured gift.

  “My lord! This is a special breakfast I made just for you!”

  Mobius looked down at the chaos on the plate—a smoking apple; a sticky, amorphous paste whose origins were impossible to discern; half a fish; and a spice scent so bizarre it defied description.

  Gru, who had been nuzzling Mobius affectionately, recoiled at once—both heads pulling back in perfect unison.

  Mobius hesitated for three seconds. Then, out of courtesy, he took a symbolic bite.

  The next second, he spat it out.

  “Shadowling…” Mobius asked gravely, “…which alchemical workshop taught you to cook?”

  Shadowling’s face flushed bright red. He looked mortified, yet inwardly full of stubborn resolve. Damn it… Next time, I’ll use Rainbow Serpent eggs to make fried eggs.

  Chelorra shook her head with a soft smile and slid her own plate toward Mobius. “Have mine. I’ll make myself another.”

  Mobius laughed at once. “My thanks! It’s a blessing to have you here. Otherwise, between the highly toxic beasts Gru brings back from his hunts and Shadowling’s… unpredictable cooking, I’d likely become the first wizard in the history of the Central Continent to die of food poisoning.”

  Shadowling and Gru both let out low, indignant grumbles in protest.

  The table settled into quiet again.

  Two humans and two beasts sat together around the old, timeworn breakfast table.

  Chelorra ate in silence. Mobius reached out and handed a piece of bread to one of Gru’s heads, while Shadowling sneaked bites from Mobius’s breakfast and, at the same time, slipped food to Gru’s other head.

  Warm morning light streamed through the tower’s windows, settling on their shoulders.

  Within the cold and ancient tower, a quiet warmth settled in.

  After breakfast, Mobius went down alone into the tower’s basement.

  There, he had carved out a crude yet spotless dissection chamber. At its center stood a stone slab, and upon it rested a massive head—the severed head of the first Grimface Ape.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Mobius had already changed into a clean white smock, the sleeves cinched tight at the wrists, his familiar lambskin gloves pulled on. He stared at the head before him, his thoughts drifting back, unbidden, to the clamor of the previous afternoon.

  After killing the second Grimface Ape, Mobius took no chances. He immediately sent Gru to conduct repeated scent sweeps around the village, covering a radius of nearly ten miles. Only after confirming there was no third “unexpected” presence did he stand down the alert.

  In their euphoria, the villagers laid out the most lavish feast they could muster—roasted lamb, honey-glazed chicken, mutton offal pies, soft bread, hearty stews, fresh fruit, and dark rye ale.

  Mobius sat among them at the long table, taking deep swallows of ale.

  Shadowling crouched on the back of a chair, gnawing on a cluster of grapes.

  Gru, restored to his usual size, was locked in a tug-of-war with himself—both heads vying over a massive slab of meat.

  A little girl with braided hair shyly pressed a small flower into Chelorra’s hand, then fled at once, cheeks burning red.

  “Please, eat your fill!” Village Chief Matus said with a broad smile as he poured another round. “We truly cannot thank you enough.”

  “Chief Matus—had the two Grimface Apes ever appeared together before?” Mobius asked after swallowing a mouthful of ale.

  “No.” Matus shook his head. “If Orin hadn’t muttered last night that the thing looked… bigger somehow, I’d never have believed there were two of them.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” Orin said from the long table. He set down the bread in his hand, still slick with grease, his face pale with lingering dread. “At first, I thought it was just the dark—thought the Magibeast was too close, that my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

  He took a long pull from his ale and let out a breath. “Gods above… If the second one hadn’t shown itself when it did—if you’d already left—then… well. By the time Kalu and Bain came back, they’d have found nothing left but bodies to bury.”

  His thoughts drifted back to the dissection chamber of the Stargazer Tower.

  Mobius fixed his gaze on the head resting atop the stone slab, pale green eyes flickering faintly in the candlelight.

  The appearance of the two Grimface Apes still troubled him.

  —Why had the first attacked them outright?

  Was it merely startled? Even before its transformation, Gru was not a presence most creatures would dare approach—let alone after he had grown to such size.

  —And why had the second pressed the attack instead of retreating once wounded?

  That sword gash across its abdomen should not have left it with such reckless “courage.”

  —And then there was this…

  When it moved to ambush, the villagers were scattered, working completely unaware.

  With Gru standing at my side, it had still chosen to come for me.

  For the moment, Mobius had no answers to any of it.

  However—

  The mana crystal discovered after Gru crushed the Grimface Ape’s skull had given him a direction.

  A mana crystal was a medium used by wizards to bridge their own power with the natural elements. Such a mineral, born of the land itself, had no place inside a living creature.

  —Perhaps the key to the mystery lay within the Grimface Ape’s brain.

  Mobius drew in a slow breath, set those thoughts aside, and began.

  He took a razor from his tool kit. His movements were swift and steady as he shaved away the fur from the ape’s head, stripping it clean in practiced strokes. When the skull lay fully bare beneath the candlelight—

  Mobius’s pupils contracted sharply.

  At the crown of the skull were several faint scars—the unmistakable traces of flesh that had been cut open, then stitched closed again.

  The sight stirred a memory from a late night before he had left the Wizard City. In a deliberately concealed basement, he had seen the same marks on the head of another Magibeast corpse.

  His heartbeat quickened despite himself. Whether from excitement or unease, he could not say. Back then, he had neither the chance—nor the courage—to cut into that sutured wound. Now, at last, he might be able to part the fog and see the truth beneath.

  He picked up a dissection knife forged of fine steel, its blade paper-thin, its edge cold and keen. His movements were smooth, unbroken. Moments later, the Grimface Ape’s scalp was cleanly opened.

  He leaned in to examine it.

  Along the inner surface of the scalp, the blood vessels and nerves had grown in grotesque excess, swollen far beyond anything natural. Even the skull itself showed signs of unnatural expansion and deformation—as though it had been forcibly saturated with additional “nourishment,” driving flesh and bone to grow anew, uneven and distorted.

  And most crucial of all—

  when the skull was fully revealed before him, he saw it clearly: a section of bone that had once been opened, then healed over.

  Mobius murmured a spell under his breath and curled his fingers slightly. A thin flame was drawn from the nearby candlestick, guided to the dissection blade and slowly fed into it, warming the metal until the edge glowed faintly red.

  He followed the mark precisely, the blade passing through bone as easily as warm butter, and lifted away the section.

  Then, with a sweep of his left hand, a hovering magical lamp drifted down to his side.

  He bent closer, studying the interior of the skull as it was laid bare beneath the light.

  In the next instant, his eyes lit up.

  He reached inside with a pair of iron tongs and drew out a diamond-shaped crystal—a Mana Crystal. Its cut, size, and purity were almost identical to the one found the night before.

  Mobius placed it into an iron case at his side. It landed with a clear, metallic click. Then he took up his quill and meticulously recorded the discovery and every step that had led to it, his handwriting precise and unwavering.

  He remained in the dissection chamber for hours thereafter.

  He completed the examination of what remained, measuring, observing, and comparing each organ in turn, committing every detail to the page.

  So absorbed was he that the passing of midday went entirely unnoticed.

  In the basement, only the soft rasp of quill against parchment remained, accompanied by the steady glow of the magical lamps.

  Outside the Stargazer Tower, the sun now stood high overhead.

  And something long buried was being brought to light at last—piece by piece, beneath a wizard’s dissection knife and quill.

  Follow or Rating—it helps more than you’d think.

  — Janus Twelve