Dim light filtered through the thin curtains of the ship's cabin, casting faint shadows across Karl's face. He sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, sweat clinging to his brow. The dream still echoed in his mind — not just a dream, but a warning. The Gate… it's wavering, he whispered to himself.
Without waiting for the ship to set sail, Karl quickly dressed and rushed out of his sleeping quarters.
In the kitchen, Molvar was humming a strange tune, casually stirring a bubbling pot of soup. He looked up just in time to see Karl stride in with a grim expression.
"Well well, someone's up early," Molvar grinned. "Don't tell me you dreamed the priestess asked you to marry her?"
Karl didn't respond. He brushed past Molvar, grabbing his cloak and the sword strapped behind his back. "I have to go home. Now."
Molvar raised an eyebrow. He could tell this wasn't a joke. Without hesitation, he extinguished the fire, threw on his coat, and dashed after Karl.
"Wait up! At least let me bring the breakfast. My mushroom soup is not half bad!"
The path toward Mount Evernight was still wrapped in mist, despite the morning sun hanging high above. Karl moved swiftly, his steps almost silent, while behind him, Molvar was panting and struggling to keep up.
"Hey—wait up! I know you've got long legs, but are we racing the devil or something?" Molvar wheezed, clutching his waist.
Karl didn't slow down. "The Gate," he said simply.
"What gate?"
"The seal… it's about to break." Karl's voice lowered, his eyes clouded as if glimpsing into a faraway nightmare. "I felt it last night. The fracture has already begun."
Molvar was silent for a few seconds before chuckling dryly. "And here I thought I was the dramatic one. Well, I guess breakfast is officially cancelled."
Karl glanced at him. "I'm not joking, Molvar. If that seal breaks… everything locked behind that gate will come back."
Molvar nodded slowly, his grin fading into something more serious. "No doubt in my mind. Looks like I've just signed up for a never-ending adventure."
Karl's wooden cabin stood nestled among the thick pine trees, its moss-covered walls and weathered roof blending seamlessly with the wilderness. Even after two centuries, the house remained — silent and unmoving, a witness to time.
Molvar whistled as they stepped into the yard. "Gotta say… gloomy in a very you kind of way. No wonder people avoid this place."
Karl didn't respond. He made his way to a large stone slab behind the house. On its surface were etched ancient symbols — part of the seal that once held dark energy at bay.
He placed his hand against the stone, eyes closing. A chill ran down his spine.
"Something touched the seal," Karl murmured. "Not me. And not anyone from this world."
Molvar stood still. The wind howled between the trees, rattling the cabin's windows. He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the air — but the tension in his eyes betrayed his concern.
"So… should we pack up and move to the valley?"
Karl clenched his fist. "No. If we run, it'll follow. I need to know what's coming. And why."
The night had slowly faded, giving way to the silvery gray light of dawn. Down by the harbor, villagers were beginning their daily routines — hauling nets, loading crates onto boats. All was peaceful... until Arin suddenly halted mid-step.
The wind carried the salty tang of the ocean — but beneath it... something else. A massive aura was rising far out at sea, burning faintly like a spark catching fire beneath the waves.
Arin turned, eyes locked on the horizon. "...No way," she whispered.
The surface of the sea, once calm, began to ripple. There was no strong wind, yet the waves rolled in slow, deliberate patterns — as if something vast was stirring beneath. The seagulls abruptly scattered from the rocks, squawking into the air.
A nearby villager followed her gaze. "Something wrong, milady?"
Arin didn't respond at once. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword, her expression turning sharp.
"Something... is coming. And it's not small."
The scene shifted back to the slopes of Eternal Mountain, where Karl and Molvar had just arrived not long ago. The sun was now high in the sky, but a subtle chill still lingered in the air. In front of a small cabin nestled deep within the woods, Karl stood silently, eyes fixed on a distant point — the place where the seal had once been buried beneath layers of stone and magic.
A faint tension hung in the atmosphere. Something felt... off.
Karl raised his hand slowly. There — a flicker. A faint aura leaking from deep underground, subtle yet undeniable.
He shook his head, eyes narrowing.
"This isn't good..."
Behind him, Molvar stumbled up the path, hauling an oversized bag. He looked up at Karl, completely confused.
"What is it? We scouting for scenic views now?"
Karl turned his head, giving a half-smile.
"You ready?"
Molvar blinked. "Ready for… what exactly?"
Karl's tone darkened. "I think... I'll have to seal it again."
"It? What it?"
Karl didn't answer right away. He simply stared into the woods behind his house — where the energy was no longer still.
Something was awakening once more.
Karl walked slowly through the damp undergrowth, deeper into the forest behind his home. Everything looked the same — moss-covered stones, wind rustling gently through the trees — but he could feel it. Something had shifted.
He stopped before an old circle of stone — the site of an ancient seal. Kneeling down, Karl pressed his hand to the mossy ground. Dust stirred, revealing worn runes etched into the rock — flickering faintly, as if struggling to hold on.
"It's cracking," Karl muttered.
Molvar followed close behind, carefully avoiding the glyphs. "When you said 'seal'... you mean something was locked up here?"
Karl nodded grimly. His fingers brushed the center of the circle, channeling a trace of lingering energy into the stones.
A faint crack echoed.
Then — a surge of overwhelming aura erupted. The wind howled. Trees bent violently. The ground trembled as if the forest itself had taken a breath.
Molvar staggered backward. "What the—!?"
From the center of the circle, darkness twisted upward like smoke. A massive hand broke through the earth. Then, rising slowly, a towering figure emerged — clad in cracked black armor, glowing with red lines like fire beneath shattered stone.
His eyes opened — two burning red embers in a skull-like face.
"…One hundred years," he growled, voice like grinding steel. "One hundred years of rotting in a cold grave…"
Karl's eyes narrowed, recognition dawning.
"Diecer… one of the Dark Generals."
Molvar's hand went instinctively to his hilt. "Uhh... maybe we could, y'know… talk this out?"
Diecer chuckled — a dry, echoing sound like snapping bones.
"You shattered your own seal. Don't beg now."
The wind howled violently as Diecer stepped forward. The ground beneath him cracked with each footfall, pebbles bursting upward under the pressure of his aura.
Molvar swallowed hard.
"You've got to be kidding me, Karl. That guy looks like he crawled out of a nightmare."
Karl stood motionless, arms folded, eyes cold and focused.
"Test him, Molvar. I want to analyze his attack patterns."
"Excuse me!? You're just gonna watch?"
"I'll step in if you're about to die."
"…Wow. Thanks for the heartwarming backup."
Molvar grit his teeth and drew his blade. The silver steel shimmered slightly, pulsing with each beat of his heart. The air around Diecer warped with his presence, making every step feel like a march of doom.
The dark general said nothing. In a blur, he lunged forward — his sword sweeping sideways like a colossal hammer, tearing through the air and splitting a tree in half behind Molvar.
Molvar ducked just in time, sweat beading on his brow.
"Damn—he's heavy!"
"Wide attack range, but slow. Vulnerable right after each swing," Karl called out coolly, as if lecturing a student.
Grimacing, Molvar slid in low, slashing toward Diecer's exposed side.
Clang!
His blade bounced off as if striking solid iron. The recoil sent Molvar skidding back, his arms tingling from the shock.
"His armor's layered with a defensive barrier," Karl continued. "You'll need to hit weak joints or use penetration magic."
Diecer turned sharply, thrusting his palm forward. A black shockwave blasted out — Molvar barely jumped back in time, but the force still sent him tumbling across the ground.
"You alive?" Karl asked, deadpan.
Molvar sat up, hair disheveled, still clutching his sword.
"Yeah… but next time, warn me so I can stretch first!"
Molvar coughed, brushing dirt off his cloak as he got to his feet, his whole body aching.
"That guy doesn't know the meaning of 'light tap'..." he muttered.
Diecer stepped forward again, each footfall sending tiny tremors through the ground. His glowing red eyes under the helmet burned like twin daggers. The massive sword rose once more.
"Alright, big guy! This time, I'm bringing the storm!" Molvar roared, rushing forward instead of dodging.
He unleashed a flurry of strikes — low cuts, mid-air twists, sharp reversals. His blade danced with light, forcing Diecer to take half a step back.
"Good. Third strike had force. But too predictable," Karl commented flatly from the side, still analyzing.
"Thanks, Professor!" Molvar shouted back. "Should I hand him a pop quiz next!?"
Suddenly, Diecer caught Molvar's sword barehanded, halting his assault cold.
"Okay, that's... mildly alarming."
Molvar let go instantly, stepped back, and launched a kick to Diecer's knee. It barely did damage, but it disrupted the general's balance for a second — just long enough for Molvar to snatch his blade back and leap out of range.
Karl raised an eyebrow, murmuring:"Adaptable…"
Molvar panted, a trickle of blood running down his lip, but he grinned.
"Alright, Mister Tactics… Your turn to show off."
Karl gave a small nod. His eyes sharpened like twin daggers of steel.
Diecer raised his blade again, ready to land the finishing blow. But this time, before Molvar could react, a chilling gust swept through the air — clang! His massive sword met an unseen force.
In the blink of an eye, Karl stepped in between them. His cloak swayed gently, his eyes calm but cold like winter steel.
"Take a break, Molvar. Time for me to give this guy a few lessons."
Molvar, half-sprawled on the ground, wheezed out a dry laugh. "I warmed up the stage. All yours now."
Diecer spun his blade and slashed sideways at Karl. But unlike before, Karl didn't dodge. He simply raised his hand — and Diecer's blade slowed mid-air, caught by an invisible grip.
BOOM! — A wave of gravity burst outward, sinking the earth beneath them.
Karl took a single slow step forward, his voice as icy as his gaze:
"Your moves… were outdated two centuries ago."
He lifted a finger, and a small pebble floated up from the ground.
"That horizontal slash? It's called the basic diagonal cut. They teach that in first-year infantry manuals. No wonder you lost."
Diecer roared in frustration, swinging wildly. But Karl shifted slightly left, ducked low, almost lazily.
"You rely on brute strength over technique. Too heavy. Your guard? Full of holes."
A flick of his wrist — boom! — an invisible force smashed into Diecer, knocking him flat.
Molvar's eyes widened: "Okay... that's what I call a hands-on lecture!"
Diecer lay still for a few seconds, then suddenly pushed himself up, head lowered. The air around him began to ripple.
Karl immediately sensed the shift. The energy within Diecer wasn't surging blindly this time — it was moving with purpose. With... control.
Molvar stepped back cautiously.
"He's doing something... Doesn't look like the wild swings from earlier."
"Correct," Karl replied, eyes narrowing. "He's learning."
Diecer slowly raised his head. His red eyes gleamed — not with rage, but with calculation.
"You... slowed my movements using air pressure and gravitational pull… directing force along motion vectors…"
Karl's brow arched — the slightest trace of surprise.
"He's beginning to understand."
Molvar whispered, "Isn't that a good thing?"
"No," Karl said flatly. "He's copying."
Suddenly, Diecer raised both arms — and the ground beneath him sank, pulled by an unnatural gravity. The air warped slightly. He was starting to manipulate gravity himself.
"Damn. Can't let that happen."
Without hesitation, Karl punched the air — not aiming directly at Diecer, but at the space before him. A violent force exploded outward, slamming into Diecer's chest, hurling him back nearly ten meters.
BOOM!
He crashed into a rocky wall, his body shattering like porcelain.
Karl walked up, eyes cold as he looked down at the crumbling remains.
"A mimic without depth… is nothing more than a cheap imitation."
Molvar caught up, mouth hanging open.
"Dude. I blocked a few hits and you go full obliteration mode?"
Karl glanced at him. "I don't repeat lessons."
Far from where the battle had ended, the moonlight continued to spill over the calm ocean.
Back at the harbor, Arin strolled along the dock, the cool night breeze gently brushing through her hair. Yet, unease tugged at her chest — an invisible weight pressing down, as if something was watching.
Suddenly, the sea stirred. Barely a ripple. As though something deep below had awakened.
She froze, narrowing her eyes toward the horizon — where the moon's pale light kissed the surface of the water.
And then she saw it.
A shadow — vague, formless — either standing or floating just above the sea, far out in the distance. It didn't move. It made no sound. It simply existed — staring straight at her.
Arin clenched her fists. The aura radiating from it — faint yet unbearably heavy — made her heartbeat pound against her ribs.
It wasn't human.
And it was here.