The earthquake hit the library like a buried god roaring to life. Shelves splintered, clouds of dust fell from the ceiling, and ancient scrolls fluttered down like wounded birds. Nova staggered, pressing hands to his temples as a high-pitched ringing tore at his ears.
On the table, the Book of Nox shuddered. Its black cover flamed with blood-red letters, pulsing: thrum… thrum… thrum… In an instant it dissolved into pure light—and that light drove straight into Nova's chest.
He gasped. A scarlet mark seared itself into his skin before vanishing beneath it. The power entering him was cold, whispering, eternal.
Then the siren blared. Its cry rolled over the mountain, a sound nobody in Aldren had heard for generations. Panic exploded in the streets below. Villagers poured into the open square, screaming, clutching children and whatever possessions they could grab.
From loudspeakers came a trembling voice: "Emergency alert! A hostile Summoner has infiltrated Aldren! I repeat—a Summoner has begun the invocation!"
Nova froze. Summoners were feared above all magic classes—not because of their own might, but for the monsters they could call forth. Their power rose with each star of rank, yet during the summoning they were utterly vulnerable. That was when you struck—but this one had been planning for months.
"The enemy has hidden here for three months," the broadcast continued. "They are a 4-Star Summoner—I repeat, Four-Star!—and have initiated a full-scale summon near the southern gate!"
Nova's heart sank. Three months… they'd lived among them all this time.
Outside the gate, a figure in black raised glowing red eyes from beneath a hood. Behind him the air rippled, opening eight portals, each rimmed with a different color of light. From those gates the beasts crawled out: enormous creatures of fur and scale and fang, every one radiating enough power to crush stone. Even the weakest—2-Star beasts—could slaughter a squad of soldiers in seconds. Worse still, the 3-Star monsters were intelligent, barking orders and coordinating attacks like savage generals.
From his vantage on the mountain path, Nova watched fires leap through the lower district. People ran screaming as buildings lurched and fell. His legs trembled uncontrollably.
Nearby, Walter was already in motion, sword drawn, a blue aura igniting around him. He spoke his skill name: "Level 2 Space Magic: Weapon Style—Acceleration Step!" A magic circle flared beneath his feet, and he blinked five strides ahead, slicing a beast's throat before it even registered the blow. Again and again, he teleported through the fray, cutting down monsters and shielding the helpless.
But Nova could not move. His limbs felt like blocks of stone. The ground shook, the sky flamed—and all he could ask himself was: Why is this happening? Why now? Why here? His breaths came short and ragged, the stench of blood and smoke filling his lungs.
Then a thunderous crack split the air. Through the haze, he saw it: a colossal boulder ripped from the mountainside, hurtling toward a cowering child. Instinct took over. From his belt fell one of his sealing papers—a relic from before his power awakened. It burst into flame.
"Level 2 Fire Seal: Fireball!" Nova cried. The paper transformed into a burning orb that streaked upward, slamming into the boulder. It shattered, carving a gap just wide enough. Nova dashed through, scooped up the trembling child, and rolled to safety as rubble thundered down behind them.
The boy choked on dust, tears carving tracks through grime. "Th-thank you, mister!"
Nova managed a weak smile. "It's… my duty." But inside him, the new energy pulsed like a caged beast. He couldn't let anyone see how much it tempted him. If they discovered what he'd become, they would fear him.
He led the child away, then paused at the smoke-choked edge of the square. The screaming had ceased—only the roar of monsters remained.
At the center of the chaos, atop the tallest watchtower, the Summoner threw back his arms. His voice rang out across the night:
"This village shall burn by my hands! For years you mocked me… called me weak! Now… behold what weakness becomes when fed with despair!"
His laughter curled through the air like a curse. One portal pulsed, and from it crawled a living nightmare: shaped like a woman, yet her form was bark and thorned vine. Wooden tentacles writhed beneath her torso, her arms twisted into jagged spears, and hollow eyes glowed with sickly green light. When she spoke, her voice was a shattered melody:
"You are my twenty-fifth meal…"
A 3-Star Beast—sadistic, sentient, ravenous.
Nova's heart thundered. He bolted down a blood-slick alley, boots splashing through crimson puddles stained with faces he knew. He dared a glance back. The creature was slithering after him, that grotesque grin stretching impossibly wide.
"Let the meal… begin."
The air chilled. Shadows thickened.