Hell.
That is the only word to describe Blood Valley for those who witnessed its horrors for the first time.
A valley of death nestled between colossal peaks in the heart of Les Anciennes. A place where the snow never ceased to fall.
The pristine snowflakes drifted gently from the sky, only to turn crimson the moment they touched the snow on the valley floor, drunk from the blood and remains of those thrown into this slaughterhouse.
A vast expanse of bloody snow stretched between the distant mountains and the weathered dracium panels of the Shield, their surfaces forever stained with blood and guts.
And on this grisly frozen stage of death, Deathwalkers and daemons clashed in a never-ending cycle of slaughter.
The daemons were silent and brutally efficient, ensuring that they killed instantly with the utmost brutality. Limbs were severed, bodies crushed, lives removed without ceremony.
The Deathwalkers fought back viciously with everything they had. Blades, spears, and arrows pierced black hearts, while bullets pierced black armor and flesh.
Every weapon forged by the Crafters in the Shield was their instrument of survival.
Explosions of darkness bloomed across the bloody valley, marking the demise of the daemons and unleashing the crimson wraiths whose wails echoed all over the valley.
Infernos of blue flames incinerated those who couldn't get away in time, as their bodies became the twisted vessels of the wraiths.
For the newbies whose survival odds barely scraped single digits, this was a nightmare that would haunt whatever remained of their short lives.
For the veterans, it was routine.
A macabre performance repeated so often that the horrors dulled into familiarity.
And this familiarity, disturbingly, became a sort of amusement.
"Goodness!" Artemis winced as she glanced sideways. "That daemon just pulled a woman apart like a cheese stick!"
"Focus, Captain," Carlo sighed, though his eyes flitted over to the horrifying spectacle despite himself.
"Makes you realize we're basically cheese sticks," Artemis muttered. "But instead of cheese, it's just blood and guts."
"A profound philosophical revelation, Artemis," Vanis remarked flatly, her mismatched purple and crimson eyes observing every part of the battlefield.
Unease gnawed at her, coiling in her gut like an insidious serpent.
The S-rank daemon had vanished the moment Vanis, Artemis, Carlo, Sir Kay, and the veteran Deathwalkers were deployed.
No trace. No pressure. No distortion in the air.
As the three of them slowly advanced with their senses sharpened, Vanis noticed something else.
Daemons were ignoring them.
Even the most unhinged Abnormal was rushing past them, slaughtering the surrounding Deathwalkers, as if the three didn't exist.
Vanis's jaw tightened.
It didn't bode well.
Not at all.
Blood flowed down her arm, hardening into a crimson sword of crystallized blood.
Everything faded into silence around her until only the voices in her head remained.
Deranged whispers of insanity that know no rest.
And then.
"Above!"
Minerva's voice cut through the whispers like an icy knife.
Vanis moved by pure instinct, jumping back just as black, chained spikes rained from above in a violent cascade.
They slammed into the snow where she had stood a heartbeat earlier, scattering it everywhere.
The chains snapped and twisted like snakes before surging toward her.
Vanis immediately activated Haema.
Blood tendrils enveloped in Bloodfire sprouted from her back and lashed out, intercepting the chains in a flurry of crimson-black flames.
She felt the wind pick up and saw a thin string weave between the chains, immediately binding them up in a sudden snare.
The air crackled as crimson lightning descended from the skies and struck the bound chains with a deafening force.
Artemis stood to Vanis's right, wind swirling around her weaponized yoyo.
Carlo stood on her left, red lightning crackling on his claymore.
The air buckled as a black vortex opened before them.
Vanis's eyes narrowed as something stepped out of the portal.
It was a horrifying sight.
An abnormally tall and lean body that seemed… wrong.
A body made of billowing darkness that poured from it like smoke, the insides hardened into a jagged black armor veined with dull gold.
Its arms were revoltingly elongated, ending in massive serrated claws that nearly brushed the crimson snow, making faint trails as the creature moved forward.
And atop its hunched shoulders was what looked like black flames with two purple flames for eyes.
A feeling of utter revulsion surged through Vanis.
She activated Lux.
A melodic hum filled the air as particles of light swirled and gathered around her.
They converged to form glowing shards of solid light that hovered around her.
As she watched, the daemon tilted its fiery head.
It raised a grotesque claw and pointed at each of them, one by one.
Its voice, like a knife scraping against stone, echoed in their minds.
"Vanis Hectus, Carlo Devereux, Artemis Fray…" Its voice trailed off terrifyingly.
The sound of their names settled into Vanis's chest like lead.
This daemon knows who they were.
Not good.
"Curse him," the daemon continued, its horrible tone dripping with malice. "Curse him for your horrible end."
Vanis's gaze hardened.
She didn't understand what the daemon meant, but it was clear that it was after them.
That was why it hid itself and waited for the three of them to move far away from Kay and the main force.
They were its targets.
Multiple portals immediately bloomed around them, and out of each emerged chained spikes wreathed in an inky darkness, swaying as if tasting the air.
The air hummed as multiple spinning lances of light and blood formed above Vanis.
She gritted her teeth and tightened the grip on her sword.
They had faced S-rankers before, and all those experiences had almost killed them.
Her senses and instincts told her that this daemon standing before them was weaker than Asphodel.
But it was still an S-ranker.
The daemon raised its claws, and they got ready for battle.
That's when it froze.
Its aura flickered as its distorted voice shook.
"No…"
It turned toward the Tear.
"Your Majesty…"
Vanis didn't know what was happening.
But she didn't care.
She felt it. This was their chance.
But before they could move, something struck the daemon first, and it stopped them in their tracks.
A crimson tendril of crystallized blood erupted through the daemon's chest.
It happened so fast.
It was too precise as well.
"Vanis?" Artemis asked, utterly baffled.
Vanis shook her head. It wasn't her.
The construction of the appendage was different.
And it was too quick to be hers.
The daemon looked down at the spike in disbelief, and its aura erupted. "You wretched hu-"
It couldn't finish its sentence before the spike split.
It curved inward, forming a hook that plunged into the daemon's chest.
With a roar of pure fury, the daemon was ripped backward and dragged into the Tear so quickly it almost looked like a flash.
In mere seconds, it was gone, swallowed by the swirling darkness of the Tear.
Vanis, Artemis, and Carlo stood frozen, weapons half raised, their minds trying to figure out the situation.
"What the fuck just happened?" Carlo asked.
No one answered, as something else was wrong
"Why…" Artemis whispered, her tone tight. "... is everything quiet?"
There was no sound of clashing weapons.
No thundering of the artillery.
No tearing of flesh and breaking of bones.
No screams or howls.
Only the sound of falling snow.
Silence fell almost abruptly.
"Vanis," Artemis's voice cut through the silence. A voice filled with alarm as her golden eyes scanned the now-empty battlefield.
"Where are the daemons?"
Vanis followed her gaze.
The young captain was right.
Where there were daemons fighting Deathwalkers, only the latter remained, looking very puzzled.
There were, however, traces of the vanished daemons, echoes of their power, and clouds of fine red mist of what would've been wraiths.
It was as if the daemons and wraiths were destroyed simultaneously.
"I… I cannot process this," Minerva said in Vanis's ear.
Her voice stuttered, something that was utterly rare for the AI.
"Explain, Minerva," Vanis said, keeping her calm.
"Something…" Minerva paused. "Something came out of the Tear."
"It traversed the battlefield at great speed, neutralizing the remaining daemons with deadly precision."
Another pause.
"This engagement happened right after the daemon turned towards the Tear."
Vanis felt a chill spread through her body when she heard that.
It appears she now understood what caught the attention of the daemon.
"Afterward," Minerva continued, her tone flattening, "the S-ranked Abnormal was forcibly dragged back into the Tear."
Her voice shook like static. "It almost resembled… a deadly specter."
"A ghost…" Artemis whispered.
Suddenly her eyes widened, her attention caught by something else.
Vanis knew why. She felt it as well.
The ardor in the air was trembling, and a ripple of power rolled over them.
It was powerful and… familiar.
Her breath hitched.
No. Could it be?
"Minerva-" she began, only to be interrupted.
"It… cannot be," the AI interrupted her, her voice shaking, almost human.
"What is it, Minerva?" Vanis demanded, trying to remain calm.
Their bracelets blinked rapidly, and the green flash of the teleportation code swallowed them.
In the blink of an eye, the scenery changed.
Vanis found herself still on the battlefield, now surrounded by other Deathwalkers, their faces pale and their bodies tensed, on high alert.
Sir Kay stood at the forefront with a rigid posture, on high alert.
Everyone was silent, and no one moved.
Everyone was looking in one direction.
Vanis followed their gaze, and her blood ran cold.
A young man stood several steps away from them.
He wore the remains of a once-white Deathwalker uniform, the color of which had dulled, and the torn fabric was covered in blood and some foreign black liquid.
His right arm was missing, and the torn sleeve where it should have been fluttered in the wind like a tattered banner.
His overgrown, messy snow-white hair swayed in the frigid wind of the valley, and scars crisscrossed his exposed pale skin, deep and horrifying.
Yet his beautiful face remained untouched.
His crimson eyes glowed eerily from within, but they had no life in them.
The light that Vanis saw in those eyes was no more.
They were empty.
Silence filled the valley, with the frigid winds and eternal snowfall of the mountains being the only sounds.
"No way," Carlo broke the silence, swallowing hard.
Artemis's hands trembled as she raised them to her mouth, her entire body trembling.
Vanis felt her legs becoming unsteady, threatening to give way and bring her to her knees. So she forced herself to remain standing.
She looked at Kay, who stood in front of them all.
Although he looked calm, she could feel the turmoil roiling inside him.
His hand was warily on the hilt of his sword, as if he were ready to draw it out.
Vanis had never seen him like this.
She tore her gaze away from Kay and looked back at the figure before them.
The High Prince who perished a year ago was dragged into the Tear by a malevolent daemon.
"Mordred," Kay said at last.
His voice wavered.
"Is that… you?"
The crimson-eyed prince said nothing for a long moment.
He just stared at them.
Then, his lips twitched, forming a broken, tired smile.
"Hello, Uncle." his voice was soft.
"I'm back."