Lilith
Thornhill, British Columbia
Canada Region, K.U.R.A
October 12th 6414
12:15 pm
Once my identification was issued and Alethia confirmed the final details, we were led into a chamber dominated by an Ether Gate. I noticed Neil and Ben occasionally glancing at me from the corner of their eyes, their suspicion or curiosity apparent, but I paid them no mind. Instead, I focused on my new sword. It was a shortsword, modest in length yet striking in its craftsmanship. The blade gleamed with a double edge, its polished surface reflecting faint arcs of light. Its silver hilt and intricately detailed guard spoke of careful hands and masterful artistry. Along the length of the blade, a series of ancient runes had been etched, faintly glowing. Each rune represented a particular enchantment imbued into the weapon's core, though I couldn't begin to guess their precise nature.
Enchanted blades carried a dark reputation, one forged in the fires of both history and myth. Even a low-grade enchanted weapon could lay waste to a village, while the most powerful among them were infamous for leveling entire nations. They were devastating tools, a grim reminder of what human ingenuity and supernatural forces could combine to create. Long before the emergence of Dungeons, such weapons had been considered relics of a bygone age, their methods of creation lost to time. Yet with the advent of the Dungeons, the once-forgotten art had resurfaced, and now enchanted blades found their way into the hands of warriors of every stripe.
As I held the sword, its weight perfectly balanced, I didn't much care about its grade or potential. I lacked the mana or aura required to awaken its true power. Instead, I admired the precision of its construction, the smooth lines of the blade, the way the runes seemed to pulse faintly as though breathing. I was more drawn to its craftsmanship than its destructive capabilities.
Alethia moved ahead and opened a heavy iron door, gesturing for us to step through. Beyond it lay two massive columns, carved with intricate spirals and symbols, that emitted a shimmering pool of white light. The light swirled and rippled as though alive, and in its center was a portal—a jagged tear in the fabric of space itself, leading to somewhere far beyond this chamber. Alethia took up a position near the portal's edge and turned to us, her hand motioning toward the glowing threshold.
"This Ether Gate will take you directly to the Dungeon's entrance," she explained. "Once you arrive, you'll find another gate inside the Dungeon's outer boundary. That will serve as your entry point into the depths."
I nodded, tightening my grip on the sword's hilt. "Let's get this over with," I said, though a small part of me couldn't deny the flicker of intrigue stirring deep inside. While I wasn't particularly eager for combat, the idea of exploring a Dungeon—a place said to defy the laws of nature and brim with strange and powerful beings—piqued my curiosity. My time in the Dread Forest had been marked by hunting Demonic Beasts, their twisted forms a constant reminder of the world's cruelties. But the Mana Beasts of the Dungeons were something else entirely. I couldn't help but wonder what they looked like, how they moved, what it would be like to face them. The thought sparked a cautious excitement, though I tried to keep it from showing.
Without another word, I stepped through the portal first, my body momentarily consumed by the swirling light. The sensation was strange, like passing through a veil of static, but brief. On the other side, I found myself standing among a dense cluster of trees. The air here was thick, heavier than the forests around Xibalba, and the canopy above filtered the light into a dim, green haze. I turned to make sure the others had followed. Ella emerged from the portal next, then Neil and Ben. They glanced around, their expressions betraying a mix of wariness and fascination.
The setting was eerily familiar. The woods looked remarkably similar to those surrounding the town, almost as if we hadn't gone anywhere at all. The trees were ancient, their gnarled roots twisting over the uneven ground, and the scent of damp earth and decayed leaves hung heavily in the air. I thought of the Enoch estate—our newly inherited home—nestled at the forest's edge. If I remembered correctly, the mansion's backyard bordered a stretch of these very woods. As I stood there, sword in hand, a peculiar feeling washed over me.
It wasn't just the chill of the shaded forest or the faint rustling of unseen creatures. It was something deeper, more primal. I could feel the weight of the woods pressing down on me, as though the trees themselves carried memories of long-forgotten events. An eerie presence seemed to linger in the air, brushing against my senses like a faint whisper just beyond the range of hearing. I couldn't shake the impression that the forest was watching me, that it was alive in a way no natural woodland should be. The sensation tugged at me, urging me to venture deeper, to uncover whatever secrets lay hidden among the roots and shadows. It was almost like a silent call, tempting and unsettling in equal measure.
I forced myself to focus. I couldn't let that pull distract me—not now. Ella was here, and she was my responsibility. Sanders had assured me that the town was the safest place for her, that the Royal Family's reach couldn't extend into this remote corner of the world. But as I stood there, surrounded by ancient trees and the murmur of unseen forces, I couldn't help but feel the weight of those assurances falter. The Dungeon loomed ahead, unseen but close, its mere presence a reminder of the danger that lurked within. Sanders' words might have shielded Ella from fears of external threats, but what about the dangers that came from within?
Dungeons were notorious for their unpredictability. No amount of preparation could truly ready a person for what awaited inside. I had been warned countless times—by instructors, by veterans, by those who had survived and those who had barely returned alive. Dungeons were the domain of Mana Beasts, creatures born from the world's chaotic magical energy. And while I had faced my share of horrors in the Dread Forest, I knew better than to underestimate the unknown. Whatever lay ahead, it wasn't just Ella's safety I needed to worry about—it was all of ours.
Ariella was just a Warrior Realm cultivator. So even though as a Vampire, she possessed astounding regeneration that made her semi-immortal, she could still be killed. I couldn't let anything happen to her. Anything. My desire to protect the girl made the space around me tremble.
"Lith," Ella called me by the name I was using in Thornhill. Lith. The name echoed in the air, snapping me out of my brooding thoughts. I turned to see Ella standing nearby, her eyes wide with wonder and excitement. Her voice reminded me that my emotions had seeped into my surroundings, twisting the energy around me. I drew a steady breath, focusing inward to quell the turbulence. The forest around us relaxed, the oppressive atmosphere fading as I regained control.
Ben, who had been watching me carefully, cleared his throat and gestured toward a clearing where a structure loomed in the distance. "I think the Dungeon is in that direction," he said.
I nodded, following his lead as Neil drifted closer to Ella. His face mirrored her enthusiasm, a spark of anticipation lighting his features. "If you go further into the woods, you might encounter some lesser-ranked Magic Beasts," he said.
Ella's curiosity was piqued. "Really?"
Neil nodded. "Yeah. A lot of Raiders start with the weakest creatures in the forest. It's almost like a warm-up—an informal training ground—before they take on the Dungeon. Ben and I used to practice here all the time before we felt ready to move into the deeper levels."
I studied Neil more closely, still finding it hard to believe that this wiry, unassuming man was a Mage with a Warrior-rank cultivation. In the few days I'd spent here, I had encountered three Manaborn humans—Neil, Maximus, and that stern receptionist back at the association—each capable of wielding power beyond their race's natural limitations. Humans had always been considered the weakest of the Nine Races. Even when they awakened and cultivated, their base foundation remained inferior. A human of the same rank as another race was still fundamentally weaker. Yet, here in Thornhill, the rare seemed almost commonplace.
As we continued on, the trees thinned out, revealing an open plaza bustling with activity. The vibrant scene before me caught me by surprise. A sprawling marketplace stretched across the clearing, lined with stalls offering everything from freshly grilled meat to polished weapons and mysterious potions. The scent of fried meat wafted through the air, making my stomach tighten in longing. Vendors shouted over the murmur of the crowd, calling out the virtues of their wares, while buyers strolled from stall to stall, inspecting items with practiced eyes. I saw Dungeon Raiders gathered in groups, their armor and gear still dusty from recent expeditions. Some lounged beneath the shade of a massive tree, laughing and drinking from heavy mugs, their camaraderie palpable even from a distance. It was a lively, chaotic atmosphere, the hum of activity underscored by the occasional clatter of equipment or the bark of a merchant's voice.
Above it all loomed the Dungeon Tower. Its sheer height made it stand out even among the tallest trees, its dark surface reaching skyward like a monolith. Shafts of light filtered through gaps in the thick canopy, casting shifting patterns of shadow and light on the plaza below. The air carried an electric charge, a faint vibration that set my nerves on edge. This was the gateway to the unknown, a place where danger and reward were intertwined, where whispers of treasure and doom mingled in equal measure.
"This way," Ben said, steering us through the throng. Despite the allure of the market stalls and the tempting aroma of grilled food, we didn't linger. The cost of our Dungeon licenses had left us with little money to spare. If we were to recover our expenses—and, hopefully, profit—we would have to face the dangers within the Dungeon itself. That was the gamble. The reason we were here.
We pushed through the crowd, following Ben toward a line of Raiders gathered near the base of the tower. A podium stood before them, and atop it, a man in a crisp black uniform addressed the assembly. His voice carried over the chatter, firm and authoritative.
"Remember," he said, "those of D-rank and below must first pass through the Tutorial Trial. Only those of C-rank and above are permitted to explore the Dungeon Tower directly. Any D-ranks caught breaking the rules will face fines and permanent barring from future expeditions."
The crowd murmured in response, some grumbling quietly while others exchanged knowing nods. I glanced at Ella, who was still drinking in the scene around her, her excitement undiminished. I wasn't sure if she fully understood the gravity of what we were about to do. The Dungeon was not just a place of adventure—it was a trial, a crucible. There was no guarantee of success, only the promise of a challenge that would test every ounce of strength and resolve we possessed.
I turned to the others, studying their expressions as we prepared to descend into the unknown. Ben seemed focused, his gaze steady as he mulled over our strategy. He had earned a C rank, marking him as a capable and seasoned Raider. Ella and Neil, on the other hand, had been assigned D ranks due to their current standing in the cultivation system—Warrior Realm Ascendants. When I glanced down at my own ID, the B rank stared back at me. Alethia had judged my strength to be equivalent to that of a Master Realm cultivator.
The ranking system still felt abstract to me, a web of classifications and benchmarks I had little reason to explore. What I did know was this: cultivation was divided into four stages, each with multiple realms that a cultivator had to ascend through. The first stage was the Awakening Stage, a foundational tier meant for those just starting their journey into power. Within the Awakening Stage were five realms:
Novice Realm, Acolyte Realm, Adept Realm, Warrior Realm, and Master Realm.
Beyond that came the Harmonization Stage. This was where a Master Realm cultivator would ascend to heights few could imagine. The realms here were:
Grandmaster Realm, Sage Realm, Great Sage Realm, Semi-Saint Realm, Saint Realm.
As for the stages that came after Harmonization, I honestly knew very little. I'd never cared much about the details of cultivation, and the fact that I could recall even these two stages was surprising. Still, the complexities of the ranking system weren't my primary concern at the moment.
I yawned, feeling the tension of anticipation mingling with boredom as Ben started laying out his plan.
"Since you two are D-ranks," Ben began, gesturing at Ella and Neil, "you'll need to start on the Tutorial Floor. And since I doubt Lith here is going to let Anna go in alone…" He glanced at me, his expression sharp, as if daring me to object. I gave him a slow, easy smile, knowing it would annoy him. True to form, he rolled his eyes before continuing. "I think we should all stick together and take the Tutorial Floor. Safety in numbers and all that. What do you say, Lith?"
"Fine by me," I said with a shrug, though I was already bracing for whatever lay ahead. The air around us grew heavier as the sounds of the plaza swelled. Excited voices rose behind us, Raiders and vendors alike chatting animatedly. The atmosphere buzzed with an energy that was both thrilling and ominous, as if the Dungeon itself was eager to see who would venture into its depths next.
"Move aside," someone whispered behind me, their voice low yet commanding. I turned to see the crowd near the Dungeon Tower shifting, parting like water around a stone. People stepped back in hushed reverence as a small entourage made its way through the throng. My eyes fell on the one leading them—a girl who seemed to draw the sunlight itself, her presence undeniable. She was petite, with fair skin that almost glowed in the soft light filtering through the trees. Her brown hair, woven into intricate braids, framed a face dusted with freckles, each one catching the golden rays and adding a natural warmth to her complexion. Her emerald eyes gleamed with an intensity that was almost otherworldly, and they were what struck me the most. Something about them felt familiar, like fragments of a forgotten dream. I barely noticed the ten or so people trailing behind her, clad in lighter armor and clearly her subordinates. My focus was on her alone—on the confident way she moved, the faint smile that played at her lips.
She wore a white battle armor that clung to her form, the polished plates glowing faintly. A slender rapier, its hilt gilded with intricate designs, rested at her side. Every detail about her, from the way she carried herself to the effortless grace of her stride, suggested power, control, and purpose. And yet, as much as I admired her appearance, I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity, that I had seen her somewhere before. That emerald gaze seemed to pierce through me, leaving behind a faint, nagging ache in my temples. My head throbbed, the faintest pang of a headache whispering at the edge of my consciousness. I brushed it off quickly, unwilling to let my discomfort show.
As if sensing my scrutiny, her emerald eyes met mine, and her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. I didn't flinch, but I felt my pulse quicken as our gazes locked. She didn't look away, didn't even falter. She was calm, assured, and entirely in control of the moment.
"That's Jennifer McClough," Neil whispered to Ella, though I caught the words as well. "We went to high school together."
I frowned slightly. She seemed young—maybe eighteen or nineteen, close to my own age. But the brush of her aura, faint yet distinct, revealed something unexpected. The subtle pulse of her power carried the signature of the Harmonization stage, though it was hard to tell if she was just entering the Grandmaster Realm or on the verge of progressing further. Either way, it was a level of cultivation most humans rarely reached, and certainly not at her age.
"She's a human," Ella murmured, clearly surprised.
"Yes," Ben grunted. "The most powerful human in this town."
That declaration caught me off guard. I'd sensed strong cultivators before, but something about Jennifer's presence was different. The air around her had a faint, unnatural chill, as if the space she occupied carried a shadow of winter's breath. It wasn't overwhelming—nothing like my own presence when I allowed my emotions to slip—but it was still notable. I could see why the crowd gave her space. Her aura didn't scream power, but it whispered it steadily, a constant reminder that she was not to be underestimated.
Jennifer approached us, her entourage trailing a few steps behind. She gave Neil and Ben a polite nod, her expression warm and disarming, then turned her attention to Ella. Her gaze lingered briefly, her smile widening slightly as if in approval, before finally settling on me.
"I don't believe I've seen you here before," Jennifer said, her voice soft but clear, each word carefully measured. "Are you new to Thornhill?"
I met her gaze evenly, a wry smile forming. "Yes. Though I must admit, I'm surprised you think you'd recognize every Dungeon Raider in this town."
Behind me, I could feel Neil and Ben stiffen at my response. I heard Neil mutter something under his breath, a faint groan of embarrassment, while Ben let out a quiet grunt that sounded a lot like exasperation. Jennifer's entourage—those ten followers clad in their polished armor—shifted, their eyes narrowing. Their collective glare was sharp, their indignation palpable. Some looked as though they'd leap forward if given the slightest signal. I could feel their restrained anger, the raw emotion bleeding into their auras, and it thrilled me in a way I couldn't quite suppress.
Their aggression didn't intimidate me. If anything, it excited me. I caught myself smiling faintly, my muscles tensing slightly, ready for a fight if it came. My fingers itched to draw my sword, to see how these followers of hers measured up. But I held back, content—for now—to keep my composure and play the waiting game.
"Yes, I make it a habit of mine to know all the Dungeon raiders in Thornhill," Jennifer said with a smile so sweet it almost made me forget where I was. Then she chuckled softly, a sound that caught me off guard. I had expected her to react differently—to be offended by my sharp tongue, to let her followers push her into some kind of confrontation. Instead, she was nothing but friendly. The way her green eyes shone with amusement threw me off entirely, and I felt the stirrings of an ache behind my temples. It wasn't just her demeanor; it was something deeper. Something about her was unsettling.
Her gaze dropped to the sword hanging at my hip. "That's an Enchanted blade, isn't it?" she asked, her tone light, almost curious.
"Yes, it is," I replied curtly, gripping the hilt reflexively. "If you'll excuse me, my group and I need to get going." The headache was intensifying, a pulsing pressure just behind my eyes. I didn't know why, but the more I stood there, the more agitated I felt. It wasn't anger, exactly. It was something raw and primal, clawing at the edges of my control. I needed to move, to spill blood, to do something that would quiet whatever it was inside me.
Jennifer tilted her head slightly. "I don't believe I caught your names," she said, her smile unwavering.
Before I could respond, Ella stepped in. "I'm Anna Rochester," she said with a slight bow of her head. "And she's Lith Rochester, my sister."
"Lith, huh?" Jennifer repeated, her emerald gaze lingering on me for a moment. Then she smiled again, that same disarming smile. "Well, I'm Jennifer McClough. It was a pleasure meeting you."
Without another word, I turned and strode away, barely waiting for the others to follow. The ache behind my eyes didn't fade; if anything, it grew sharper with each step. I didn't dare look back, didn't want to see her smile again. I needed distance. Something about her presence had burrowed under my skin, leaving me with a desperate, gnawing need to get far, far away.
****
"Careful, Neil!" I called out, my voice cutting through the din of snarls and the clash of weapons. A goblin lunged toward him, its crude blade glinting in the faint, eerie light of the cavern. Neil stood motionless, his focus locked on the staff in his hands, murmuring the words of a spell. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't make it, but then a flash of energy shot from his staff, the goblin collapsing in a heap before it could reach him.
We were deep within the tutorial floor, where the battles had grown more frequent and the goblins more aggressive. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sharp, earthy stench of these creatures. Goblins were the dominant foes here: small, wiry humanoids with mottled green skin and primitive weapons. They moved with a cunning that betrayed their low intelligence, relying on numbers and brute force rather than strategy. While we'd encountered other kinds of Mana beasts—some with sleek fur and glowing eyes, others covered in scales like miniature dragons—the goblins were our main adversaries, swarming us again and again.
For me, it was hardly a challenge. They were fragile things, their heads all too easy to remove with a single strike. My knuckles were slick with goblin blood and brain matter, the acrid stench clinging to my skin. I didn't mind the smell of death; in fact, there was a dark comfort in it, a warmth that settled deep inside me. Still, I caught the uneasy looks from Neil, and even Ben, every time I dispatched another goblin. I could see the flickers of fear in their eyes, though Ben was better at hiding it.
Ben wasn't a stranger to combat. As a Lycan, he had natural strength and speed, and his claws and fangs were weapons in their own right. I watched him leap from goblin to goblin, shredding them in swift, brutal movements. He moved like a predator, his form fluid, his strikes efficient. But even Ben couldn't keep it up forever. I could see his breathing grow heavier, his movements just a fraction slower as the goblins kept coming.
Ella, on the other hand, was unshaken. She stayed close behind me, her black crossbow at the ready. Her calm, steady hands loaded bolt after bolt, and every time she fired, another goblin fell. She wasn't just accurate; she was fast. A single volley of arrows would cut through the creatures, impaling them with deadly precision. She seemed completely at ease, her focus unbroken, her aim unerring. It didn't surprise me. I knew her capabilities well. Ella had always been gifted with a bow, and it remained her favorite weapon.
What struck me most, though, was Neil. I hadn't expected him to be as skilled as he was, moving through spells with a kind of effortless precision. He performed silent casting, bypassing the need for spoken incantations, and simply conjured elemental magic from the air around him. It wasn't just the act itself—it was how naturally it came to him. Yes, he had an enchanted staff that amplified his abilities, but even so, his command over fire and earth elements was something rare.
Most mages struggled to master a single affinity. For Neil to wield two was remarkable, and it hinted at a deeper, innate talent. I'd heard the tales before: those who could command all six elements were said to be nature's chosen, granted a gift that set them apart. While Neil wasn't quite there, his dual affinities were a sign that his cultivation path would be far smoother than most. Such individuals didn't have to fight the same uphill battles. Instead, they grew into their powers more easily, refining their magic with less resistance.
As a goblin rushed toward him, Neil didn't flinch. He raised his staff and unleashed a three-tier spell without hesitation. A block of stone shattered into countless shards, and those shards hurtled through the air, piercing the goblin cleanly. It was a precise, deadly move. Neil allowed himself a brief smile, though I could see the signs of weariness creeping over him. The fight was taking its toll, yet he didn't falter.
Meanwhile, I continued my work. Goblins fell in droves under my assault. My claws tore through their skulls, splattering thick, dark blood across the clearing. I stopped keeping count after the first few dozen kills. There were simply too many. But despite the relentless slaughter, I remained careful to retrieve the white Orbs that each Mana Beast left behind. Each time a goblin fell, a glowing Orb appeared—its core. They were said to hold the essence of the creature, a crystallized concentration of its Mana. In the outside world, these Orbs were highly sought after, worth fortunes to those who could harvest them.
As the battle dragged on, the goblins began to retreat. Their attacks ceased, and they melted into the shadows of the forest that surrounded us. The tutorial floor had always resembled the woods near Thornhill, so much so that it sometimes felt like we'd never left the place. But now, the oppressive presence of goblins was gone. The clearing grew still, the air heavy with the scent of blood and earth. Only the faint rustling of leaves remained.
We paused by a lake, finally given a chance to catch our breath. The water was clear and still, reflecting the jagged canopy of trees above. It was a stark contrast to the chaos we'd just endured. I crouched at the edge, dipping my bloodied fingers into the cool water and scrubbing away the crusted goblin blood. Nearby, Neil filled his canteen, his face lined with exhaustion.
I watched him for a moment, feeling a surge of questions rising to the surface. His talent, his skill, his apparent affinity for multiple elements—it didn't add up. There was more to him than he let on, and I intended to find out what.
"You seem exceptionally skilled at spellcasting," I said, watching as Neil's face lit up. It was like I'd handed him a treasure chest. "Even without your grimoire, the way you can cast spells so quickly is remarkable."
Grimoires were vital to most Mages—arcane tomes brimming with spells, often tailored to their user's particular affinities. Not only did they serve as repositories of magic, but they also amplified a Mage's power and precision. I had seen Neil use his grimoire before, its runes glowing faintly as he cast, but lately, he'd started weaving his spells without ever opening it. That in itself spoke volumes about his abilities.
"When did you first awaken?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"I was ten years old," Neil replied, a flicker of pride in his voice. "At that age, I managed to master Simple Magic as a rankless Mage."
"That's quite an achievement," Ella said, her voice tinged with admiration. She was busy counting the mana cores she'd collected, her fingers deftly sorting through the glowing orbs. Even in this relatively calm moment, there was a wild energy about her, a vitality that never seemed to fade. "With that kind of talent, you could easily make a career as a Dungeon Raider."
Neil gave a faint laugh and shook his head. "That's Ben's dream, not mine. I plan to leave this place as soon as I've earned enough money."
"Oh? And where will you go?" I asked. The world outside Thornhill and Ashtarium was vast—endless stretches of uncharted wilderness, sprawling cities, ancient ruins, and untamed seas. Did he mean to leave the kingdom entirely?
"I want to head east, to the Galadh Institute of the Sorcery Art," Neil said. His words made me pause. The East was a distant, almost mythical place to most people here. It lay beyond the Atlas Ocean, far past the shores of the New Continent. The Eastern Continent was said to be one of the few places where all races mingled freely, unlike the fractured lands of Europa. Europa was a harsh, divided continent, where centuries of war and old grudges had created deeply entrenched divides. For humans, especially, it was a dangerous and unwelcoming place. But the Eastern Continent—Galadh in particular—was different. It was a land of opportunity for those who sought knowledge.
"Do you plan to become a scholar?" Ella asked, tilting her head.
"Not exactly," Neil said, his expression softening. "I want to immerse myself in the Arcane arts, to truly understand magic in all its forms. I'll gather knowledge, refine my craft—and then, I'll use that knowledge to uncover the truth behind the Dungeon Towers."
His words hung in the air, the camp falling into a thoughtful silence. For a moment, the crackle of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves were the only sounds. Neil's ambition was clear, his resolve burning brightly. He had a goal, a purpose that propelled him forward into the unknown. There was something admirable—something enviable—about that.
I glanced at Ella, who had gone back to sorting mana cores, her expression unreadable. For all my strength and skill, I lacked what Neil had. My life had no broader purpose, no grand dream. The only thing that kept me moving was Ella. She was my anchor, my reason for everything. Without her, I wasn't sure what my life would amount to. Perhaps I'd still be back in the Dread Forest, slaying Demonic Beasts, consumed by bloodlust and rage, with no direction.
Neil's ambition was a reminder of what I didn't have. And yet, as I looked at Ella, I knew that what I did have was just as valuable. She was my purpose, my guiding star. If my life revolved around her, so be it. It was enough for me.
"That's quite a lot," I said, genuinely impressed. Neil simply chuckled, brushing off the compliment with a casual shrug.
"I know," he said with a grin. "Don't you find it exciting? The mystery behind this place, I mean." As he spoke, he glanced skyward. The stretch of blue above us seemed endless, yet it was unlike any real sky. Even though we were deep within the Dungeon, the illusion was perfect—an alternate reality meticulously crafted, separate from the world outside. The air was crisp, almost too clean, and there was a faint hum in the distance that gave away its artificial nature.
"I do," Ella said, her tone thoughtful. She wasn't just humoring him; she truly meant it. I could see it in her eyes, the spark of curiosity that had always been part of her. That was when it hit me—why Neil had been rubbing me the wrong way ever since we met. His wide-eyed curiosity, that insatiable need to understand the world's secrets—it reminded me too much of the Ella I once knew. Before her family was taken from her, before the pain and loss hardened her, she'd been just like him. Watching Neil now, I felt a pang of something I couldn't quite name—nostalgia, perhaps, or maybe just the bitterness of seeing what Ella might have been if things had gone differently.
"I've always been fascinated by history," Ella said, her voice quieter now. "Especially the history of the Old Age." I knew that was the truth. She was a walking encyclopedia when it came to ancient artifacts and lost eras. Her passion for collecting relics of that forgotten time was the very reason I'd gotten into punk music. The Ashtarmel family's vaults held treasures that most people only dreamed of—bits and pieces of a bygone world that Ella had poured herself into studying.
"Then why not come with me to Galadh?" Neil said, his voice bright with enthusiasm. "They offer classes on Battle Art and ways to refine your cultivation techniques. You'd love it there."
He was practically beaming at her, his admiration as obvious as the sun overhead. That lovesick look in his eyes—raw and unguarded—snapped me out of whatever good mood I'd briefly felt toward him.
"Stop pestering her with your fantasies," Ben growled, his voice a low rumble. He'd finished his rest and was already standing, his posture rigid and ready. The relaxed atmosphere of our break evaporated in an instant. "We need to move. I'm itching to take on some of the Mana Beasts on the first floor."
Without waiting for anyone's agreement, Ben started toward the path. The rest of us followed, weaving through the overgrowth toward the gate that would lead us to the upper floors. As we neared it, I felt the pull—a familiar sensation, like being caught in a gentle current. The gate, a shimmering pillar of light, stood in the middle of the clearing. It reminded me of the Ether gates I'd used before, though this one felt somehow… different. The space around it seemed to shimmer, and as we stepped into the light, the world around us shifted.
When my vision cleared, I found myself standing in what appeared to be a town square. It was an uncanny copy of Thornhill's central plaza, right down to the cobblestones and the arrangement of stalls. The sunlight poured down in that strange, too-perfect way, and a soft breeze rustled the colorful canopies of merchant carts. My head swiveled as I tried to make sense of it. This wasn't Thornhill, and yet it looked identical.
"The first floor of the Dungeon is said to be a copy of the town itself," Neil said, his voice filled with that same wonder. I looked over at him, the curiosity practically radiating off him.
"From what my Pack told me," Ben added, his tone matter-of-fact, "the Mana Beasts sleep during the day and start hunting at night. Looks like we arrived during the morning phase."
"So what now?" I asked, though I was already turning, scanning the square for anything out of place.
Ella's voice came from behind me, light and teasing. "Isn't it obvious?" She grinned, her crossbow resting on her shoulder as she glanced toward the alleys branching off the plaza. "We explore."
-
Outside the Royal Palace of the Ashtarmel Family
Yorkside Region
Capital, Kingdom of Ashtarmel
August 11th, 6406
10:30 AM
Lith wished she were back in the room Ariella had chosen for her. The sun bore down on the expansive courtyard, and she was still unaccustomed to its warmth. She sat beneath the shade of a large oak, watching Ariella practice her archery. Nearby, Sanders stood, adjusting Ariella's stance and explaining proper technique. Lith's gaze lingered on the princess. For someone so young—only eight years old—Ariella's precision was remarkable. Her arrows consistently found their mark, the sound of them thudding into the target echoing softly through the courtyard.
It had been a week since the king offered Lith a place to stay. Since then, she had spent most of her time locked away in the lavishly decorated room that now belonged to her. Despite the grandeur of her new surroundings, she couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest. They'd given her space to process the news of her father's death, but no amount of time would help her come to terms with it. She wasn't even sure she wanted to. The memories of her father were fragmented—there, and then not. If she tried too hard to focus on them, pain and blankness would surge, leaving her more lost than before.
The heat here was oppressive. Back in the Dread Forest, it was perpetually night, and the air was cool, crisp, and still. Here, the relentless sunlight filtered through the trees, making everything shimmer and seem unreal. Lith found herself staring at that artificial sun, wondering how something so bright and vast could be a mere imitation.
"It's fake, you know," Ariella said, startling her. Lith blinked and turned to see the princess standing close, her silver-blonde hair darkened by sweat, her white practice shirt clinging to her small frame. "The sun up there—it's artificial. The dome that covers the whole region makes it."
"Where I come from, it's night all the time," Lith replied, her voice low and reflective.
"The Dread Forest, right?" Ariella said. "I've read about it. It's one of the places affected by the Eternal Night."
"Eternal Night?" Lith repeated, unfamiliar with the term.
"You know," Ariella said, tilting her head slightly. "The phenomenon that helped us win the Long War."
Lith shook her head. She didn't know what that was. The term 'Long War' meant nothing to her.
"You've never heard of it?" Ariella's eyes widened in surprise. She sat cross-legged on the grass in front of Lith, her young face adopting a serious, almost scholarly expression. "The Long War was a war of the races that happened thousands of years ago. It was fought between the Vampire race and the Children of the Light. According to the history books I've been reading, the other races were split between the Vampire factions and the Children of the Light's faction."
"Children of the Light," Lith said slowly, shaking her head. "I've never heard of them."
"That's because their name was erased from history," Ariella said. "After the war, they were wiped out completely. The books say that after a series of nuclear strikes, their kind was—"
"The Eternal Night was caused by the Ansgar noble house," Lith interrupted, the words leaving her lips before she could think them through.
"Yes… Wait," Ariella said, blinking at her. "How do you know that? I thought you didn't know anything about the war."
"I don't," Lith said, frowning. She didn't know how she knew. The information had surfaced from somewhere buried deep inside her mind. Memories flashed through her consciousness—nuclear blasts, toxic radiation that could poison even Vampires, her father rushing her away from their home. Then came the familiar pain. It clawed at her skull, trying to drive her into a haze of nothingness. "I just knew it. I don't know how, but I did. Just like I know what a Vampire is. Just like I know how to kill one."
"You've killed before, haven't you?" Ariella's voice was soft, not accusatory. Lith stiffened. She wanted the girl to fear her. Deep down, she thought it would be better if Ariella was afraid of her, kept her distance, didn't try to understand her. But when Lith looked into Ariella's wide, curious eyes, she saw no fear. Only sadness. Perhaps pity. No, it was something else—curiosity. Innocent curiosity, as if she were a puzzle the princess was determined to solve. It was that look that unsettled her most.
"Yes," Lith said quietly. "I had to."
"Had to?" Ariella asked gently.
Lith hesitated, memories rising unbidden. The faces of those she'd killed flashed in her mind. Some had deserved it—vicious, monstrous things—but others… others had been weak. Helpless. "I did what I needed to stay alive," she said at last. Her voice hardened, a brittle edge creeping into her tone. "I killed because it was the only way."
She stood abruptly, her movements sharp. The look on Ariella's face was too much. This child had no idea what life was really like. She lived in a bubble, surrounded by guards and walls, protected from the world's cruelty. She didn't understand that sometimes survival meant doing unspeakable things.
"Don't look at me like that," Lith muttered. "You have no idea what it's like. What it's like to—" She stopped herself. To kill. To feel the life drain from someone else and to know you were the cause. The memories rose again, bringing with them a sickening mixture of pride and disgust. That intoxicating thrill she felt when she ended a life… She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. She didn't want to think about that now.
"I'm sorry," Lith said suddenly, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to snap at you." She felt something wet on her cheeks and brushed it away. Tears. She couldn't remember the last time she cried—if she ever had.
"It's okay," Ariella said softly. Then her attention shifted, and her face lit up with concern. "Oh no, you poor bird."
Lith followed her gaze and saw a small creature twitching in the grass near the tree roots. It was a sunflower bird, its golden feathers dull and ruffled. The tiny creature flapped its wing weakly, unable to lift itself off the ground. Ariella crawled closer, reaching out carefully.
"It's hurt," Ariella murmured, gently picking up the fragile creature. Lith could feel the bird's feeble life force, its vitality draining fast. It wasn't just hurt—it was dying. A faint pang of guilt stirred in her chest. Was this her fault? Had she let something slip in her emotions that caused this delicate thing harm? She didn't know. All she knew was that she couldn't look away.
"Give it to me," Lith said, her voice calm but firm. Ariella hesitated for a moment before placing the injured bird gently in Lith's hands.
"What are you doing?" Ariella asked, her voice tinged with both concern and curiosity.
"Shh," Lith replied, her tone soft but deliberate. "I'm trying to concentrate." Closing her eyes, she turned her focus inward. She reached into that dark, instinctive place within her—the one that had always craved to take life. But instead of embracing that familiar, destructive urge, she sought out something else, something deeper. Beyond the hunger, she felt a current of energy, subtle and hidden, like a faint, flickering light.
Her breath slowed. She visualized that light, allowing it to grow stronger, brighter. Her fingertips tingled as she guided the energy to her palm, shaping it, willing it forward. Slowly, she directed the essence into the fragile bird. A warm pulse emanated from her hand, and the bird's quivering form steadied. The creature's dull feathers seemed to regain their luster, and its labored breathing became even and steady.
With a small, startled squawk, the bird sprang to life. Its tiny wings fluttered, carrying it skyward. Ariella's mouth opened in shock, her hands clasped together as she watched the creature vanish into the trees.
"You…you healed it," Ariella whispered. She wore a look of wonder, her lips curving into a small, incredulous smile. "How did you do that?"
"I don't know," Lith said quietly. She stared at her hands, turning them over as if expecting to find some physical trace of the power she had just wielded. "I've never done that before. I… I only know how to take life. This is…" She trailed off, her voice thick with disbelief. For so long, her abilities had been synonymous with destruction, a curse she had wielded as a weapon. This was different. This was something she hadn't thought herself capable of.
She could still feel the faint echo of energy within her, a lingering reminder that she had given a piece of herself to the bird. Her heart beat faster as she tried to understand it, her thoughts churning. Who am I? What else can I do? What have I forgotten?
Lith looked down at her hands, then back at the princess. "When I told you my last name, you looked… surprised. Like it meant something to you. Why?"
Ariella's smile grew wider. There was a hint of excitement in her expression, as though she had been waiting for Lith to ask that very question. She reached out and grasped Lith's hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "Come with me," she said, her voice brimming with purpose. Without another word, she turned and began to lead Lith out of the courtyard.
*
They sat together in Ariella's room, Lith perched stiffly on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting together as Ariella rifled through a cluttered desk covered in books. The space was notably more lavish than Lith's room—larger, with pale lavender walls that seemed to glow faintly in the soft sunlight streaming through tall windows. A massive queen-sized bed, its duvet impeccably smooth, dominated one side of the room, while an array of books, parchment scrolls, and odd trinkets cluttered the other.
"Found it!" Ariella exclaimed, her voice breaking the heavy silence. She turned, clutching a small black book in both hands as if it were a precious artifact. Bounding across the room, she jumped onto the bed beside Lith, her silver-blonde hair gleaming like spun silk. Her excitement was almost palpable.
"What's that?" Lith asked, her voice low and uncertain.
Ariella held it up triumphantly. "It's the Bible. I remembered hearing your family name somewhere before. Not many people carry the name Kain."
The book's cover was simple—black leather embossed with a gold cross. Below it, the word "Bible" was stamped in gilded letters. Lith's brow furrowed as Ariella opened the ancient tome, flipping through its thin, slightly yellowed pages.
"Here, listen to this," Ariella said, her voice dropping into a reverent tone as she began to read aloud.
"'And Cain said to Abel his brother, "Let us go out to the field." And when they were in the field, Cain rose against Abel his brother, and killed him. And the Lord said to Cain, "Where is Abel your brother?" He said, "I do not know; am I my brother's keeper?" And He said, "What have you done? Listen! Your brother's blood cries out to me from the soil. And so, cursed shall you be by the soil that gaped with its mouth to take your brother's blood from your hand. If you till the soil, it will no longer give you strength. A restless wanderer shall you be on the earth." And Cain said to the Lord, "My punishment is too great to bear. Now that You have driven me this day from the soil I must hide from Your presence, I shall be a restless wanderer on the earth and whoever finds me will kill me." And the Lord said to him, "Therefore whoever kills Cain shall suffer sevenfold vengeance." And the Lord set a mark upon Cain so that whoever found him would not slay him. And Cain went out from the Lord's presence and dwelled in the land of Nod east of Eden. And Cain knew his wife and she conceived and bore Enoch. Then he became the builder of a city, and he called the name of the city after his son's name, Enoch.'"
Ariella paused, looking up from the book. Lith felt a chill creep up her spine.
"That's a strange story," Lith said cautiously. "But what does that have to do with me?"
Ariella closed the Bible and turned to Lith with a pensive expression. "Cain was the firstborn son of Adam and Eve," she explained. "The first humans ever created."
"And also the first murderer," Lith muttered.
"Yes," Ariella nodded, her voice growing more animated, "but there's more. According to the Holy Book of Lilithism, Cain wasn't just the first murderer—he was the first New-blood Vampire."
"Wait, what?" Lith's eyes widened. "He was a Vampire?"
Ariella nodded eagerly. "The Holy Book says Cain was the first mortal to drink of the Divine Blood of the Great Mother. He underwent the Rebirth process and became the first of our kind. He's considered the first prophet."
Lith shook her head, pacing slowly around the room. "And you think that has something to do with my family?"
"Think about it," Ariella pressed. "You're named after the Great Mother, and your family name is Kain. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore."
Lith felt an uneasy weight settle in her chest. She reached for the Bible and flipped back to the passage Ariella had read, scanning it again. The words sank into her mind, heavy and unsettling.
"He was cursed," Lith said softly. "Cursed by God for spilling his own brother's blood."
Ariella frowned. "We don't know if that's true. The Bible was written by humans who barely understood the truth. The Holy Book of Lilithism says he was blessed with great power."
Lith's mind spun. Blessed? Cursed? Her life hadn't felt anything like a blessing. From the moment she awoke in the Dread Forest, abandoned and alone, she had felt nothing but the heavy weight of survival. She thought of the times she killed—how she took life to preserve her own. If that was a blessing, it didn't feel like one. And now this… this connection to Cain, to some ancient being that supposedly bore the same name. It made her head ache. Could her ability to heal the bird really be tied to this ancient lineage?
"If we can get to the church's library," Ariella said, interrupting her thoughts, "we might find more information about the Kains. What do you say?"
Lith turned toward the princess, her face hard and resolute. "Fine. I want to know who I am."