As I drifted through the abyss, an eerie weightlessness enveloped me, and I felt like a spectral observer in a world of desolation.
The ground below was strewn with ash and the remnants of shattered lives, while the air hung heavy with acrid smoke.
In the distance, shadowy figures moved with contorted expressions of agony and despair, like lost souls wandering through a nightmare.
From my vantage point, the world seemed like a grim tableau, a realm detached from reality. It was as though I hovered on the precipice of existence, an outsider peering into a tragic drama.
In this nightmarish realm, I observed a child, her tiny frame enveloped in tears as she cried out for her mother.
Even the delicate snowflakes falling from the heavens were incinerated upon contact with the searing heat of the relentless war raging below.
The environment itself seemed to mirror the chaos and devastation, as if nature itself mourned the cataclysmic events unfolding beneath.
The echoes of battle reverberated through the desolate landscape, and the sky above remained a somber canvas, mirroring the anguish and destruction that had befallen this world.
As my spectral form watched, it became evident that the conflict I witnessed was a harrowing war between humans and demons.
These demonic entities, their forms grotesquely twisted, clashed violently with human soldiers. The battlefield was a grotesque tapestry of death, strewn with lifeless bodies and dismembered limbs.
It was a tableau of unrelenting brutality where no side appeared to gain an upper hand.
Desperation coursed through me, compelling me to reach out to the weeping child. But as I drew near, she began to fade away, her cries echoing into nothingness.
Once more, I was engulfed by the encroaching darkness, left to drift alone with only the cacophony of war for company.
The hopelessness of it all bore down on me, a crushing weight in this grim and tormented world. It seemed as though there was no reprieve, no salvation from the horrors that plagued this forsaken realm.
Despite the concealing cloak I wore, an icy chill gnawed at my core within this void. I curled into a protective ball, burying my face in my knees and shutting out the nightmarish surroundings.
"What do you want, demon?" I uttered, my voice a raspy whisper, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
As I abruptly jolted awake from the abyss of that haunting slumber, my heart hammered within my chest.
The sensation of reentering the waking world was like breaking through a barrier, emerging from the depths of a nightmare into the harsh light of reality.
Yet, despite my return to consciousness, the tendrils of that haunting vision refused to release their grip on my thoughts.
It was as though the horrors of the past had woven themselves into the fabric of my being, leaving an indelible mark.
I felt as if my entire being was on fire, consumed by a raging inferno. Every inch of my skin was drenched with sweat, the heat searing through my body.
I could feel my heart pounding, the rapid beating echoing in my chest. I was completely disorientated, unable to make sense of my surroundings.
I felt like I was in the middle of an intense battle, my body bracing itself for an attack. But there was nothing there, no enemy to fight, just the burning heat that refused to abate.
I tried to take a deep breath, to calm my racing thoughts, but my lungs felt like they were being suffocated.
The heat was relentless, never letting up, and I was struggling to stay conscious. I felt like I was going to pass out, but I fought to keep my eyes open, to hold on to the last shreds of my consciousness.
As my mind registered the recurring dream, I thought to myself with frustration, "This dream again?!" However, my exhaustion prevented me from thinking straight, and I struggled to process my thoughts.
An unsettling sensation gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, akin to a strange tether linking me to the realm of demons and a mysterious figure, the demon empress herself, Laplus Darkness.
Her presence lingered in the recesses of my thoughts, like a shadow waiting to reveal its true form.
As I rose from my bed, I could feel the cool sensation of the wooden floor against my burning hot feet.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air and feeling it fill my lungs, clearing my mind. I made my way over to the small wooden table by the window, where a bucket of crystal clear water awaited me.
The sunlight shining in illuminated the room, creating a warm and inviting ambiance.
I dipped the rag into the cool water, and the refreshing sensation against my skin helped to ease the unbearable heat of my body.
I took my time washing my face, allowing the water to soothe my tired eyes and calm my nerves, washing away the sweat and grime, leaving me feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
Looking in the mirror, I noticed the dark circles under my eyes and the tiredness in my gaze. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts and find clarity, I decided to change my mindset and focus on the tasks for the day.
"I need to change into my gear and get moving," I thought to myself. "I have tasks to attend to, and I can't let these dreams keep affecting me."
After changing into fresh clothes, I made my way to the window and opened it. The cool morning air filled the room, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the refreshing sensation.
As I opened my eyes again, the morning sun painted the city with warm, golden hues.
I descended the creaking staircase that led to the common area of the tavern. The comforting aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh-baked bread wafted through the air, enticing my senses.
It was clear that the tavern was already bustling with activity as patrons chatted and laughter filled the room.
I approached the bar where Roberu was busy tending to customers, his deft hands pouring drinks and filling plates. He noticed my arrival and flashed a warm smile. "Good morning, Mumei. Slept well?"
I returned his smile with a nod. "Well enough," I replied, though the memory of the nightmare still lingered in my mind. "I'll take some breakfast, please."
Roberu swiftly prepared a hearty meal, complete with eggs, bacon, and a generous portion of bread.
I settled into a nearby seat, my senses fully awakened by the tantalizing smells and the cheerful ambiance of the tavern.
As I enjoyed my breakfast, my gaze drifted to the bounty posters and requests that adorned the tavern's walls.
The city's ongoing struggle against the encroaching monsters had resulted in an influx of these requests, each one bearing a unique challenge.
My eyes lingered on one poster in particular, a menacing illustration of a monstrous creature.
The creature was known as the "Desert wyvern," a name that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest adventurers.
Its appearance was nothing short of terrifying, with scales as hard as steel and wings that spanned the length of a wagon.
Its fiery breath could turn sand into glass, and its claws could rend even the sturdiest armor asunder.
Beside the image of the wyvern, there were other posters and requests that hinted at the city's dire situation.
One depicted a swarm of shadowy, insect-like creatures known as the "Duskspawn," their numbers growing out of control in the city's outskirts, threatening to encroach upon Azurith Port itself.
Another detailed a mission to escort a group of refugees to safety, their desperate pleas for help apparent in the tear-stained letter accompanying the request.
With my breakfast finished, I exchanged a few words with Roberu, who had been attentive to my needs throughout the meal.
I expressed my intent to take on some of the requests and do what I could to assist the city during these troubled times. Roberu nodded in approval, his mismatched eyes reflecting a deep gratitude.
Leaving the tavern behind, I stepped out into the bustling streets of Azurith Port. As I traversed the sprawling metropolis, my mind raced with thoughts of procuring the necessary supplies for my impending journey.
The last time I had visited this city, navigation had been a relatively simple task. However, this time around, the sheer enormity of the city had left me feeling disoriented and overwhelmed.
But my thoughts were interrupted as a group of heavily armed guards passed by.
"If everything goes according to plan, the city will finally begin to return to normal," one of the guards remarked.
"Yeah, since Astaha became active again, monsters have been swarming to the city. The entire nation is suffering from shortages and famine," another guard added.
"But I heard that Astaha is one of the strongest, if not the strongest, dragon in the world. Do you really think that we could defeat such a juggernaut?" a third guard chimed in.
"It has to work. And besides, Sir Ernst will take part in the raid and I even heard rumors that a knight of the Knight's Order of the central continent will participate. They were sent as a diplomat, it seems," the first guard commented.
"Really, but I can't believe that it will be someone of the upper ranks, they are way to powerful! They are all masters in their respective fighting styles and some of theme even mastered two or more unique styles." The second guard remarked.
As the guards debated the situation, my intuition was confirmed – a dangerous presence was nearby, and the source of the overwhelming mana was Astaha, the True King of Storm and Calamity.
This realization struck me with a jolt. It was what I had forgotten. But what surprised me even more than my forgetfulness was the alarming notion that Astaha, seemingly, was reawakening.
I approached the group of guards cautiously, clearing my throat to get their attention. "Excuse me," I began, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about Astaha. Can you tell me more about him and the impending raid?"
The guards turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of surprise and annoyance. The first guard, the one who had mentioned Astaha, regarded me with a raised eyebrow. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone guarded.
"My name is Mumei," I replied with a polite nod. "I'm a traveler passing through the city, and I'm quite intrigued by the situation here. Any information you could provide would be greatly appreciated."
The second guard, who had expressed doubts about the raid, shook his head. "Sorry, miss, but this is sensitive information. We can't just share it with anyone."
Before I could press further, a stranger, a man of middle age with a weathered face and a patch over one eye, took me away from the guards to a quiet corner of the street.
He wore a tattered cloak, and the glint of adventure in his remaining eye suggested a life spent on the fringes of society.
"I couldn't help but overhear your interest in Astaha," he said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "You seem like someone who might be looking for more than just information."
I regarded him warily but nodded. "Yes, I am. I have my reasons for seeking knowledge about Astaha and the impending raid."
The man's grin remained lopsided, and he leaned in even closer. "Well, I can help you, but it won't come for free, you understand?"
I nodded once again, fully aware that information of this nature often had a price. I reached into my pouch and handed the man a handful of coins.
Nodding happily for a moment, the man glanced around, ensuring no one was eavesdropping, and then leaned in to whisper his request.
"There's a woman down by the docks, dressed like a pirate, goes by the name 'Houshou Marine.' She's got ears in every corner of this city, and if anyone knows something about Astaha and the raid, it's her. Find her, and she might share what you seek."
I thanked the man for the valuable information and committed the name 'Houshou Marine' to my memory.
As he melted back into the bustling city, I knew that my quest for knowledge about Astaha and the impending raid had just taken an intriguing turn.
With determination in my step, I made my way toward the docks.