No matter how many times one witnessed it, the sight of the First Fire being kindled never failed to stir the heart.
That blazing flame painted the world with its very first colors, breathing life into all things.
The Everlasting Dragons, vast as mountains, had seemed invincible—creatures that could survive in any extreme. They looked as though they would rule the world forever.
And yet, Gwyn, Lord of Cinder, hunted those dragons.
From there, the tale began—the story of fire, and the dawn of its age.
"The Age of Fire begins here."
From the birth of flame, through the war against the dragons, and into the dawn of a new era, the bonfire told a story filled with hope.
It was a story that promised the fire would burn eternally, bringing unending light to the world.
Once again, the raid party found themselves captivated—entranced—each of their minds drifting toward that distant, primordial age.
Leon, in particular, was deeply moved.
The idea that fire itself had granted life to the world struck him as inexplicably romantic, as if his very soul were ablaze.
But for those seeing it for the first time, the shock was far greater.
Stella stood frozen for what felt like an eternity. Only when she stumbled and fell to the ground did she snap back to reality, blurting out in disbelief:
"Eh?!"
So kindling the bonfire shows visions? Then why didn't I see anything before?
She pinched her own cheek, half-convinced she was seeing an illusion.
Don't tell me the bonfires I lit before were fake?!
The vision shown to her was vast and mysterious, overflowing with hope. The revelation of the world's birth shook her to her very core.
But what captured her attention most… was Gwyn, Lord of Cinder.
The instant she laid eyes on him, something inside her stirred violently—like she was staring at a true sun through his figure.
The sun is so great… so magnificent—like a transcendent father. I wish I could one day be just as radiant… just as vast and burning.
And then, it hit her.
She felt this way because she was a Warrior of Sunlight.
And the names—"Lord of Cinder" and "Warrior of Sunlight"—were so similar. There had to be a connection.
When she'd sworn her oath at the Sun Altar, she'd received a Sunlight Medal. In that moment, a message had engraved itself into her very soul:
[Warrior of Sunlight, glorious ally—write your golden summon sign to aid those in need. Your mission is to guide them toward victory.]
[Become a knight of light who, in the name of the gods and the sun, guards your comrades with sword in hand.]
Those words had filled her with pride, a noble warmth blooming in her chest.
Helping others was no longer just a means to gain rewards—it was something higher, something sacred.
And yet, after poring through countless books, she'd never once found a record of the Warriors of Sunlight. For a time, she had even wondered if it was all just a fabrication of the dungeon itself.
But that couldn't be.
How could a mindless dungeon conjure up something so intricate, so meaningful?
With renewed determination, Stella swore to uncover the truth behind the Warriors of Sunlight—and to spread their legacy across the world.
To begin that journey, she set herself a simple goal:
Clear Sein Dungeon first!
Meanwhile, the others were reacting in their own ways.
Melga sat quietly before the bonfire, lost in thought. She was the first to come back to her senses—but unlike her usual calm and easygoing self, she wore a faint frown, absently rubbing her fingertips together—a clear sign of unease.
With that anxious motion, a small metallic badge slipped from her leather armor. She quickly caught it and tucked it away before anyone noticed.
No one saw… except Wade.
Had one rewound the crystal's vision in slow motion, they would have seen it clearly—a badge of dark silver, etched with a black crescent moon.
It was the sigil of the followers of the Moon Goddess—the twin sister of the Goddess of Darkwind.
The mage Roger plopped himself down on the ground, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Oh-ho! What a rare sight this time, eh?"
Perry, on the other hand, couldn't calm himself. Turmoil churned inside him, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He muttered under his breath:
"No… no, it shouldn't be like this. The books clearly said…"
Roger smacked him on the back of the head, earning a glare in return.
Then he clapped Perry's shoulder with a lazy grin.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't trust books too much. Just because something's written down doesn't make it true."
"But the books I read were from the fifth floor of the library!" Perry protested. "That floor's restricted—no one can access it without the guildmaster's approval! Doesn't that mean the contents are—"
He had been about to say valuable, but Roger cut him off.
"You ever read 'Dragon Matron's Reproduction and Care: On How Mortals Can Bear the Children of Unshifted Dragonesses'?"
"…What?" Perry blinked. Of course that couldn't be real.
"That's a fifth-floor book too. Also restricted. Pure smut disguised as research, written just to scam funding."
Roger chuckled, giving him another hearty slap on the back.
"Anyway, whatever the case—I believe what this bonfire shows is real history."
"Why?" Perry asked blankly.
"Why?" Roger scratched his messy hair, grinning crookedly as he gave a thumbs-up.
"Because the Age of Fire sounds cool as hell. Sometimes, a man's approval is that simple."
While the mages bickered, the two clergy reacted very differently.
The Holy Light Knight sat with his eyes squeezed shut, veins bulging at his temples as if he were being forced to witness unspeakable blasphemy. His spirit trembled on the edge of collapse.
The Fire Priest, on the other hand, was ecstatic.
He broke into a ritual dance right then and there, his ragged red robes flapping wildly—he looked more like an orcish shaman than a priest.
He shouted between breaths of laughter:
"All hail the Fire God! Ha-ha-ha! So it's true—the world was born of Fire! Our doctrine was right all along!"
But then he suddenly froze, scratching his head in confusion.
"…Wait, what exactly is the First Fire? And Gwyn, and Nito—what gods are they? Why wasn't our Fire God mentioned?"
A treacherous thought whispered through his mind:
Perhaps our Fire God, Flame, has nothing to do with this First Fire at all.
But then he shrugged it off. So what? As long as the world began with fire, that's fine!
A grin split his face.
Who cares about Flame? I'll just make Gwyn my Fire God instead! It's not like Flame has answered us in a hundred years anyway!
Overcome with joy, he continued shouting and dancing—completely forgetting that one of his companions was a devout zealot.
"Heretic!"
The Holy Light Knight suddenly exploded, his palm slamming into the Fire Priest's chest so hard that the man spun like a top.
The sudden outburst stunned everyone.
"Blasphemy! Heresy!"
The knight's composure shattered. His eyes glowed red, wild with fury, as he glared at the bonfire.
Then, without warning—he did something none of them could have predicted.
He raised his foot… and kicked the coiled sword!