In a space as black and dense as an abyss, hundreds of colossal chains crisscrossed one another. Each link was engraved with ancient magical sigils, flickering faintly like dying heartbeats. They trembled and strained, desperately clinging to what had been sealed within for countless millennia.
But time is the enemy of all seals.
One by one, the magical sigils went dark like extinguished fireflies. The power of confinement weakened, frayed, and then—
Crack!
A small fracture echoed through the darkness, followed by a cascade of shattering sounds. The entire network of chains flared with one final burst of light before dissolving into ash, as though they had never existed. At the same moment, the dark pressure that had been compressed for a thousand years exploded outward, sweeping through the entire chamber.
From the very heart of that chaos came a voice—soft, gentle, yet carrying a killing intent so cold it pierced the flesh:
"At last… this day has come."
The tone was far too smooth to belong to an ordinary being—and far too calm to not make one tremble.
As the black smoke dissipated, a slender silhouette slowly emerged. Bare feet touched the shattered ground, and with every step, the remnants of ancient magic crumbled into ash.
A young woman stood at the center of the ruined seal.
She wore a long robe light as mist, its silver-blue hue mixed with ashen violet, exuding an aura of mystery and chill. The layered hem was embroidered with delicate pale-gold magical patterns that swayed gently with each movement. Beneath it was a short inner garment of grayish white—clean and sharp—accented by a black ribbon shimmering faintly blue around her neck. Her belt was a translucent cord, as if crystallized from pure spiritual power, from which several long silk ribbons trailed down.
Her long hair flowed like liquid night, floating in the air as if lifted by an unseen wind. Around her bare ankles glowed pale blue-white patterns. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was sharp as a blade—burning crimson, like embers freshly fanned.
The last remaining magical lock rattled weakly, then snapped apart as she tilted her head ever so slightly, as though brushing away a loose thread.
The girl stretched out her hand.
The air immediately warped. Spiritual energy coiled and bowed, as if kneeling at her feet.
"More than a thousand years…"
She whispered, her voice gentle, almost caressing—yet the space itself seemed to grow several degrees colder. She raised her hand, examining her wrist, where blackened scorch marks from ancient seals still lingered.
"I hope you're still alive to face this wrath."
A surge of black force burst outward, erasing what remained of the space. Stone walls tore apart like thin paper, and sealing runes were blown away like dust. The entire chamber shook violently.
The girl walked toward the gate that Fetch and Sarley had just opened. Through its crack, faint light seeped into the darkness like a fragile ribbon, stretching softly to her feet—yet carrying the omen of a looming catastrophe.
In her palm, a small flame suddenly flickered to life. It was neither brilliant nor dazzling, but deep and muted, like the soul of a winter night, exhaling bone-chilling cold. The flame contracted and expanded, like the heartbeat of a sleeping creature.
She frowned, her expression frosty.
"Though I've escaped, with only this much power left… how pitiful."
The flame extinguished. She placed her other hand over her chest, where the thrum of boundless power should have resounded—yet all that remained was a cold, hollow void. The heart that had once been the source of her overwhelming might… had been taken by them, torn into ten pieces, and held by those who had imprisoned her for a thousand years.
"Fortunately, I still have the magic I accumulated during the seal. It's only a temporary solution, but I should find a way to reclaim my true power soon."
As she spoke, her gaze shifted to the magic crystals scattered throughout the cavern. She extended her hand, and at once the crystals flared with light—then were drained dry of every last drop of energy. The extracted magic was so immense that the air itself twisted and compressed, emitting a long, shrill whine.
The once-brilliant crystals were reduced to pale gray shells—brittle, crumbling, and as useless as cold ash.
She closed her hand, absorbing the stolen magic, her expression icy yet satisfied.
"This will do for now…"
Having finished, the girl prepared to leave, then paused as if recalling something. She turned back toward the gate, carved several markings upon it with her magic, and smiled in satisfaction.
"Farewell," she whispered. With a snap of her fingers, her figure vanished—reappearing an instant later on the surface above.
She stood at a high vantage point, gazing out at the world beyond. Closing her eyes, she savored the rushing wind, the warm sunlight—real and vivid sensations she had not felt in a very long time.
"This feeling isn't bad at all. The world hasn't changed much from before. But I don't have the luxury of time to relax."
"The most important thing now is to replenish my lost power. But ordinary magic crystals won't be nearly enough." She fell silent for a moment, then seemed to reach a decision.
"Time to stretch my limbs a little."
She murmured—and vanished once more.
…
In the blink of an eye, the surroundings changed completely. The air grew heavy, carrying the scent of damp earth and ancient magic. She stood amid a desolate stretch of hills—once the lair of one of the most powerful creatures she had ever hunted.
Astarhound.
An ancient being shaped like a colossal hunting hound, its body encased in dark, metallic armor that resembled both bone and ore. Its eyes burned with deep crimson magic like smoldering embers. In its throat lay an "Astar Core," containing primordial magic crystals, granting its breath the power to tear space itself apart.
"Facing it now would be a bit troublesome, but it's the best option if I want to recover my strength quickly."
As she surveyed her surroundings, she frowned. Instead of the ruined abyss she remembered, a massive ruin stood before her—constructed from white stone engraved with unfamiliar symbols, utterly different from the magic script of her era. This structure had never existed before.
She narrowed her eyes.
"So the world has changed in ways I still don't know."
Even so, the dust of time could not conceal what she sought. From deep within the ruins came a heavy, pounding rhythm—compressing the air like a roar from the earth's depths.
She recognized it instantly.
"So it really is you. But your breathing is far weaker—meaning you're wounded. This may be a perfect opportunity for me."
Just as she was about to advance, her gaze dropped to the ground. Chaotic footprints—fresh and numerous. Not just one person, but a large group had entered not long ago.
"Oh… it seems this hunt won't be as swift as I thought. But that only makes it more interesting." She smiled faintly as she sensed the turbulent magic echoing from deep within the ruins.
"Those people haven't killed the Astarhound yet, which means they're still useful. I'll let them serve as cannon fodder first—saving me some effort."
A thin smile curved her lips, carrying both disdain and an inexplicable hint of amusement.
The wind blew past, lifting the violet-blue hem of her robes like a streak of cold light. Without hesitation, the girl stepped toward the entrance of the ruins—where surprises awaited her.