In the meantime, Edgar strolls with his hands tucked into his pockets inside the dimly lit corridors of the seemingly endless passage. A melodious whistle escapes his lips as his curious gaze wanders. His pace is deliberate, each step covering a wide stride. Edgar continues his walk down the hallway, drawing closer to a door on the right side of the wall. A faint glow seeps through the slightly ajar gap, casting a soft beam into the corridor.

     Now dressed in a crisp white shirt and a beige vest beneath a black suit that matches his black ascot tie, Edgar's black leather shoes resound with a muffled thump against the polished floor with every stride. Completing his attire, he wears black trousers that complement his upper garments. As Edgar cautiously approaches the door, he discerns soft giggles and murmurs from the other side.

     Edgar halts and stands before the doorway. Curious, he slowly pushes open the door, revealing a sudden burst of light flooding the room. Upon entering, Edgar immediately sees a bed littered with neatly folded clothes and dresses. His gaze then shifts to the right, where he notices the closets standing open and stripped of their contents. Eventually, Edgar's eyes settle on Sophia, Sarrah, and Bethany, positioned on the far right side of the bedroom.

     Sophia sits on a chair in front of a mirror atop the dressing table, applying powder to her face with a brush. Meanwhile, Sarrah combs Sophia's hair with a hairbrush while Bethany watches from the background, donning multiple flowing petticoats. As Bethany turns towards the bed to retrieve additional underskirts, the trio resumes their animated conversation.

"Hey, I have this idea," Sophia began, her voice brimming with excitement. "I was thinking we could accentuate the curls. You know, make them the focal point," Sophia suggested.

"Great idea," Sarrah thought, immediately on board with the suggestion.

"Perhaps we could create voluminous curls... like... resembling those... uh, hairstyles from the past century?" Sophia suggested, her eyes shining with inspiration.

"Alright," Sarrah replied, gently brushing through Sophia's hair. "It would take some time, though."

"So, Bethany! How many layers are you wearing now?" Sophia asked as she applied a light blush to her cheeks.

"I've layered around... hmm... five petticoats!" Bethany responded.

"Five!? Wow! That's quite impressive," Sophia gasped in amazement.

"Mhm! I know, right?" Bethany nodded.

     Edgar's eyes throb with a blazing discomfort upon beholding the girls. Sophia only wears a knee-length chemise that leaves her calves, shins, ankles, and feet bare. Sarrah, too, dons a similar attire as Sophia. Meanwhile, Bethany, despite being cloaked in five-layer underskirts that conceal her feet, remains solely in her undergarments.

     Suddenly, Sophia, Sarrah, and Bethany turn their heads towards Edgar, their collective gaze fixated on him from the doorway. Slowly, one by one, they ominously raise brushes, combs, and pillows in their hands. Their eyes bear an intense glare, their spirits primed to hurl objects at Edgar.

"Wait. These all happened before—" Edgar stammered nervously, filled with apprehension.

     Edgar swiftly turns to the hallway. Clenching his teeth, he propels himself forward, hastening his steps. Glancing over his shoulder, relief floods through him as he realizes no objects have been hurled at his face this time. Nevertheless, Edgar knows he must press on, racing down the corridor until the sight of the door fades from view.

     As the night progresses, a cloak of silence descends, veiling the surroundings. Silence hangs in the air—as if time itself has frozen. Yet, the cold, shivering breeze persists, though it refrains from gusting audibly.

     Far away, a sprawling mansion lies beneath the night sky, untouched by the moonlight's caress. It stretches wide like a grand palace, its gable roofs towering over the clouds. However, the interior remains bereft of light, with dusty windows barricaded by wooden planks. Grass and vines stealthily creep along the mansion's foundations while the surrounding trees stand thorny, their spiky branches lacking leaves. No neighbouring dwellings can be discerned; only an empty, unidirectional concrete road extends ahead.

     Inside the abandoned mansion, a mysterious force causes a door to thud gently. Suddenly, the doorway bursts open. Cal strides into the room, followed closely by Nelson, Rowan, Joel, and four other men. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, Cal stands at the room's centre, surveying his surroundings.

     Cal scans the room, taking in the sight of dust accumulating like a blanket of snow that covers every surface. White sheets drape over each piece of furniture, from chairs and desks to cabinets. Casting his eyes to the right, Cal notices the windows, their glass now blurred and opaque, barring even a single beam of moonlight from entering.

"Phew! We're back in your mansion, at last!" Nelson cheered. However, his smile quickly faded as wonderment took over. "Huh... why is it all abandoned?"

     Cal walks towards one of the windows. With his fist, he smudges the blurry glass, clearing his view until he catches sight of the moon. His eyes fixate on the moonlight, its lucent glow reflecting his unfathomable wrath.

"So, uhh. Care to explain why you want to kill the Podeshires?" Rowan asked Cal. "Like, what did they even do to you?"

Cal drew in a long, deep breath, his emotions simmering beneath the surface before he finally uttered his response. "It's because one of them... took the life of my wife," he revealed.

Rowan's eyes widened. "Oh?"

"...It was in the late nineties. My wife had just given birth to our first-born son. We were a happy family. However, a war erupted between Auxgaurrde and Asbranne during that time. My wife was deployed as a medic to the front lines. She was doing well... she managed to return home frequently. But then... one fateful day, during the final, brutal clash of the war... a Podeshire, wielding his overwhelming abilities, unleashed devastation upon the soldiers. In the chaos, he took away medics, including my wife. She lost her life... because of a Podeshire..." Cal recounted, his voice laden with a potent blend of rage and sorrow.

"Damn..." Rowan approached Cal from behind.

"Ever since then, I want the Podeshires to go extinct. Their god-like powers make them far too lethal to be allowed to exist," Cal took a deep breath and ventured. "Now, only one Podeshire remains for me to confront. But... this last Podeshire possesses the same cunning and dangerous nature as his father. Not only does he have elemental powers, but he also possesses the ability to manipulate and control minds," Cal explained, turning to meet the eyes of Rowan and the others.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Rowan asked, urging Cal to continue.

"My son... my only son... that Podeshire manipulated him, forcing him to betray me..." Cal's voice wavered with anguish and anger.

"...Oh..." Rowan let out a heavy sigh, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

"...But now, since I am finally out of prison, there is only one course of action left for me..." Cal said, furrowing his brows. Then, in a sudden burst of intense emotion, he erupted into a furious yell. "...I will confront and vanquish that Remaining Podeshire once and for all!" Cal turned towards a nearby mirror, his frustration reaching its peak as he delivered a powerful kick, shattering the glass into countless shards.