Unfortunately… that day might come too late.
Even the last Saintess of Dawn would eventually vanish into the dark.
"…Forget it," Elara muttered, turning away.
She remembered Warfang had brought in some top priests. Maybe she'd get a chance to meet one, maybe pick up something useful. But she didn't have time to waste learning slow, ritual-based spells when the North was about to explode.
"Bryella! Look at that temple, the Dawn one. Over there." She pointed across the street. "Do you know anything about Dawn? Or Radiance?"
Maybe Bryella's past held some answers. Elara tugged at her hand, hopeful.
Bryella gave her a flat look. "Nope. Also… I want that snack. Buy it."
"…Sure." Elara sighed again.
Bryella dragged her white puppy along, and Elara, arms full of more food, trailed behind. Whether Bryella really didn't know or just didn't care was anyone's guess. But she had seen something like Radiance before. What Elara just explained didn't quite line up with her memory.
"…?"
Suddenly, Bryella glanced over her shoulder.
Nothing looked out of place. Everything felt normal.
She quietly took the treat Elara handed her.
And just like that, the two girls and the little dog blended into the crowd, nothing more than a small part of the city's noise and chaos.
Among them, a cloaked figure passed through the busy street. His robe was worn, hood pulled low. His hands and feet looked normal, until you looked closer. His skin twitched. Muscles pulsed under the surface like they were boiling.
As he neared the temple, he instinctively ducked his head lower, shrinking away from the golden-leaf carvings on the bell tower.
He stayed clear not because he feared it, but because he found it pathetic. That once-proud sect had long since faded, and even here, where its last flame should've burned strongest, the light barely flickered. It couldn't compare to the Master's fire.
But then, "Urgh…!"
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His entire body shook. A deep crack split down his chest, and more tore through his limbs like shattered porcelain, bleeding from fingertip to heart.
Beneath the cloak, things looked even worse. His skin was patchy, rough in some places, too smooth in others.
His face kept shifting, bits of man, woman, child, and elder stitched together. Each piece carried a different expression… and its own soul.
Still, he knew what to do. Black threads, woven from cursed mana and screaming spirits, stretched out from the cracks, sewing him back together like a broken doll. Slowly, painfully, he returned to something vaguely human.
"I need to reach it…" he muttered, limping forward.
People walking by only felt a strange chill. He shouldn't have ended up here.
He shouldn't have crossed paths with that dragon. And yet he did, and it destroyed him.
All it took was one wrong decision.
The body he once had? Gone, nothing left. And the worst part it wasn't even a proper fight.
Just one strike, like a mountain stuffed into a fist, slammed through him, even though he'd already been half-dead. The force behind it? Enough to squash a giant, and he was just an ant in the way.
But he didn't die. Thanks to the Dark God's blessing, Trevor's body-crafting skills, and pure willpower, he clawed his way back.
Now, his body was just meat held together by sheer will. It could fall apart any second. But the soul? The soul remained.
That's when he saw it, The dragon finally dropped the act. What had seemed like a regular creature revealed its real form: a terrifying monster hungry for everything.
He felt it immediately, the pressure, the weight, the urge to flee.
The beast opened its jaws, teeth like saw blades, as tendrils reached out to rip him apart. It wasn't just after his body.
It wanted his mana, his life force, even the soul gifted by the Master. And if it had eaten him, that would've been the end. No comeback. No second try.
That's why he burned through everything to avoid resurrection at the same location. He switched to a backup revival point instead.
Still, during that moment, several key rituals got smashed. The magical beasts meant for sacrifice? Gone. The whole plan had to shift.
Luckily, the Ice Fragment, the one that controlled the storm, was still intact. "That damn dragon… was this all some kind of trial from the Dark God?"
It hadn't just been strong. It didn't even feel like a real dragon. It was like something wearing a dragon's skin, with a grotesquely muscular body that barely hid its twisted origin.
He wasn't meant for raw combat. Even with his strongest shell, he was only about as tough as a fully-armed elite knight. And yet, he got crushed instantly.
Just surviving that cost him nearly all his stored blessings and essence. Even the Master's original plan had to change.
To make it worse, he think the dragon had made friends, with the Ice Spirit no less. The same spirit now guarding the city's lord, growing more alert by the day.
Everything was falling apart.
In a fit of rage, he slammed his fist into a wall.
A nearby woman pulled her daughter away, disturbed by his presence. He didn't care.
He used to be the boss of a proper villain group. Now? He was a joke.
He hadn't even done anything yet, and some random dragon came along, wrecked him, with a single punch.
It was humiliating. He trudged through the market, ignored the stalls, and turned into a quiet alleyway. There, he stopped at a shabby-looking vendor's stall.
The man behind it was skinny, wrapped in patched-up clothes, and chewing on a cigarette. His face was hidden in shadow. But when the cloaked stranger stepped closer, casting his own darkness over the stall, the vendor slowly looked up.
Their eyes met. Fire glowed behind the stranger's eyes, the Fire of Decay.
The vendor's back, tattooed with a cursed symbol, began to burn. His face twisted, but he quickly masked it with forced calm.
"M-Master. What can I do for you?" he asked.
The command came quickly.
"Take me to this city's sanctuary. Prepare food for 300 people. The rest will follow."
"Yes, of course…" The vendor bowed deeply.
Clack... Clack...
As they walked, torches along the underground corridor burst to life. Grotesque carvings lit up. Strange inscriptions glowed. The walls pulsed like something alive, full of veins and bulging tumors.
From a corner, dismembered arms creaked open a heavy stone door.
Inside was a hall of iron cages, wrapped in barbed wire. Rotting limbs dangled from the ceiling. Blood dripped down, painting the cracked floor red.
Cries echoed through the shadows, mad laughter, chanting, broken prayers. Skulls lay shattered in the corners. Something unseen slithered nearby.
This wasn't a place for humans anymore. Not beasts, not plants, not people. Everything had changed, corrupted and twisted.