Reborn Financier-Chapter 61: Secret Demonic Lab

Time had eroded the Eastern Courtyard into a forgotten scar. What had once been a place of study and serenity now lay beneath crumbling stone and choking vines. The garden was no longer a sanctuary. It was a mausoleum.

Kaidën stepped over a gnarled root poking from the cobblestone like a finger from the earth. The air was humid, but still. Too still.

Bran’s voice broke the silence. "Weird. It’s so quiet here."

Leonhart, walking slightly ahead, didn’t look back. "It’s the kind of silence where sound dies. Listen closely — not even birds."

Bran’s furry ears twitched. "Not even bugs."

Kaidën scanned the broken statues, cracked arches, and mangled stone benches. Everything bore the same story — magic had once thrived here. But now only decay remained. His gaze sharpened, noting subtle marks others missed: burn trails, faint mana scarring, and sigil remnants nearly invisible to the untrained eye.

Seren huffed behind him, brushing cobwebs from her pristine coat. "Ugh. Of course the ruins reek of demonic residue. Everything about this region is cursed. The longer we stay here, the more likely something’s going to explode."

Kaidën gave a dry chuckle. "Let’s hope I’m nearby when it does. I’d love to see that ponytail catch fire."

Her staff nearly jabbed him. "Touch me and you’ll regret it."

Leonhart raised a hand without turning. "Focus. Both of you."

Kaidën let out a lazy sigh but internally, he was annoyed. Not at Seren — he was used to that level of disdain from noble mages. What bothered him was something... off in the air. His instincts whispered at the edge of his thoughts. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

And then he saw it.

By an old, cracked stone pillar near the eastern wall, the air shimmered — faint, like oil on water. Subtle, almost invisible. But there.

"Wait," Kaidën said, stepping toward it. "Do you see that?"

Leonhart stopped. "See what?"

"That shimmer. Right there—near that stump."

Seren scoffed instantly. "I’ve scanned this whole area. There’s no barrier, no illusion—"

"You use detection spells. That’s the problem," Kaidën cut her off. "Some things can’t be detected. You have to notice them."

Bran tilted his head and sniffed the air. "Huh. Smells like... copper. But burnt. I smell magic. And blood."

Leonhart frowned and raised his palm. A sigil bloomed to life — a pure-blue clarity rune.

As it activated, the shimmer screamed — not audibly, but magically. Like an invisible thread snapping.

The veil dropped like silk cut loose.

Before them was a stone arch, nearly swallowed by thorned vines. Behind it, a narrow tunnel vanished into darkness. The entrance hadn’t been part of the courtyard moments ago.

Seren’s eyes widened. "A... concealed gateway?"

Leonhart stepped forward slowly. "This wasn’t hidden by normal means. This is old warding — a hybrid of divine and abyssal cloaking. Not something you’d find in textbooks."

"But I saw it," Kaidën said again. "Why?"

Leonhart gave him a sharp glance. "That’s what I want to find out."

They entered the arch, one by one.

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The stairs descended deeper than any of them expected.

Cracked stone gave way to smooth obsidian walls layered with reinforcement glyphs. Ancient torches lit as they passed — not with flame, but cold white-blue mana.

Seren’s frown deepened with every step. "These aren’t modern enchantments. Some of these runes... they predate the Second Academy War."

"Someone’s gone to great lengths to keep this buried," Leonhart muttered.

Bran ran a clawed hand along the wall. "The air smells trapped. Like no one’s breathed down here in years."

They reached a landing, and a heavy door loomed before them — carved from blackened steelwood, embedded with sealing glyphs.

Leonhart approached cautiously, reading the symbols. "This is... anti-divine warding. Also demonic. Mixed deliberately."

He placed a golden sigil against the center. The runes resisted for a moment, humming like a heartbeat — and then shattered, glowing shards scattering into the floor.

The door groaned open.

What greeted them was not a room.

It was a forgotten nightmare.

***********************************************

The chamber stretched outward like a malformed corridor, wide and cold. Worktables lined the walls, covered in shattered vials, rusted clamps, and surgical tools stained black with time. Scrolls were half-burnt. Books lay open with pages torn out.

The scent hit them all at once.

Old blood. Rot. And magic too warped to name.

But what caught their eyes were the cages.

Some were empty, others held bones — not all of them human.

Bran’s nose wrinkled. "...They weren’t just experimenting on monsters."

Leonhart knelt by a cage where broken manacles hung. "Or people. This one had someone young. Look—child-sized bones. Malformed."

Seren backed away, her face pale. "No... these patterns, these grafting runes — this isn’t just alchemy. This is fleshcrafting. Illegal under every known magical order."

"They were fusing demons, monsters, and humans together," Kaidën said softly, stepping deeper into the room. "Like trying to create something that shouldn’t exist."

He stopped in front of a metal slab. It had rusted, but the restraints were still locked — one stained with dried blood.

A cracked mirror leaned beside it.

Kaidën stared at his reflection — at the twin-colored eyes, the dark scar by his jaw.

The mirror shimmered.

His reflection didn’t move.

It just smiled.

Kaidën blinked. The image was normal again.

He stepped back slowly.

Leonhart moved ahead toward a sealed arch at the back. "There’s more."

He placed another sigil and broke the lock.

The chamber beyond was worse.

Larger, colder.

Tubes lined the walls — glass capsules tall as men, filled with foul liquid and shadows within. Some had burst long ago. Others still pulsed faintly.

Inside one of the intact tubes...

Something floated.

Not quite human. Not quite beast.

Its flesh was layered in plates — not armor, but natural scale. A horn jutted from one side of its skull. One arm ended in bone claws. Its mouth was sealed with stitched flesh. But its eye was open.

And it was watching.

Leonhart whispered, "Grade 5... No. This isn’t just a demonic beast."

Seren’s voice cracked. "It’s a hybrid."

Kaidën stepped closer.

The eye locked on him.

And then — impossibly — it twitched.

Just a hint.

The corner of its mouth curled upward.

Bran drew a dagger. "It sees us."

"No," Kaidën murmured, frozen. "It sees me."

Leonhart stiffened. "We’re leaving. Now."

"But we—" Seren began.

Leonhart’s tone dropped. "Now."

As they turned, the room rumbled.

Lights flickered. One of the shattered tubes burst, spilling thick black ichor across the floor.

A voice whispered — not from the air, but from within each of them. A breath against the soul.

"Found... you..."

Kaidën didn’t flinch.

But as the chamber sealed behind them, and they began to ascend the stairway again, one thought echoed louder than all.

The demonic Abomination, a mixture of human, demon and monster all together, looking like Abomination, ran after them continuously.

To be continued...