Seven years had passed since the demon assault on Levia's front lines. In the shadowed depths of the Arelion Forest, beneath the looming mountain, a wild boar thundered through the trees, snapping trunks in its desperate flight. Blood and breath steamed from its body as it fled from a hunter it could not escape.
Long blue hair streamed behind her, silver blade gleaming in her grip. She moved with fluid precision, weaving through branches, her pace matching the beast's. In a single flash, steel sang—the boar's head slid free, blood spraying across stone as its body crashed into a boulder. The forest trembled at the violence, scarred by wreckage and crimson stains.
Deep within the cave, the black dragon lay in meditation, as he had for centuries. His silence broke when she entered, dragging the massive carcass and dropping it with a grin. "I did it!"
His voice, ancient and resonant, rumbled through the cavern. "You destroyed the forest's balance, left a trail of blood, and nearly forgot your sword." He sighed, shifting into human form, his tone softening.
"I still did it though," Emmy pouted, defiant.
"At least you concealed the trail well enough," Darkness admitted, easing her mood. His thoughts lingered. To avoid Hades or Meldia's wrath, I kept her here. She is twelve now, stronger than most humans, trained in sword and magic. Perhaps it is time she finds her own path. She remembers nothing of the night she fell unconscious—not even her name. I gave her one: Emilia. She shortened it to Emmy, and insists I call her that. She calls me Darkness, as I allowed. Perhaps that will not bring trouble… A faint smile touched his lips, unnoticed.
"See? You're happy too," Emmy teased.
"That's your imagination," Darkness dismissed, gaze shifting toward the forest. His eyes narrowed. Two black masks appeared in his hands, slit-eyed and ominous. He tossed one to her. Emmy caught it, frowning. She knew its purpose, though she despised it.
A carriage bearing the Leviathan insignia halted at the forest's edge, horses draped in royal garb, driver stiff in ceremonial wear. From within stepped a young man in blue uniform, black hair sharp against the moonlight. Crimson. Behind him, a woman with short purple hair followed, Rune, her silver sword at her side, officer's cap pulled low.
"This place brings memories," Crimson muttered, surveying the grass-grown ruins.
"Not fond ones," Rune replied, adjusting her blade.
"I don't know why you wear that cap. Too serious," Crimson joked. "We're supposed to be on break."
"You say that, but I'm still serving the kingdom," Rune grinned. "So how far this time?" Her eyes lifted to the mountain's shadow.
"Information gathering. Local guards reported strange signs—animal heads without bodies, shattered terrain, abandoned swords." Crimson's tone hardened.
Rune sighed. "Mysteries upon mysteries. Some things never change."
"The real concern is the purple ghasts," Crimson continued. "Creatures like violet haze, bodies indistinct. Not hostile—or so we think. Guards only report sightings, never contact."
"I've never heard of such beings," Rune frowned, searching memory.
"That's because they never existed before now," Crimson said grimly. "And they only appear deep within the Arelion Forest."
Rune adjusted her cap, resolve firm. "Then let's see for ourselves. Worst case—we erase a new species." She strode forward, Crimson close behind, the forest swallowing them both