A few centuries ago
A cloaked figure was gracefully walking through the pelting rain as if the harsh drops did little to no damage to his cloaked body. His black robe swept across the muddy gravel road of the dead town as he took graceful but noiseless steps down the rain-splattered road. His senses were on high alert even though his posture said otherwise; his sharp ears trying to catch any sort of movement, and his sharp eyes which could cut through the souls of demons were narrowed to slits as they strained to catch any suspicious movement.
This was the Arch Village. Once upon a time, this village was known for its brightness, even though it was occupied mostly by either the poor or the middle class- it was still brighter than the estates of nobles. But all this brightness diminished when the dark witches ambushed the village. It started with missing children before it turned into a full-blown ambush, the rest is history.
