Lily
Thornhill,
Vankar Island
Northern Isle Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
October 29th 6414
6:15 am
The ground next to me erupted in a shower of dirt and shattered stone as the massive undead dragon—a monstrous amalgamation of skeletal remains and decayed flesh—roared with a fury that shook the air. The roar alone sent nearby buildings crumbling, their debris swirling into the sky in a suffocating cloud of dust. I crouched low, instincts taking over, as our group scattered in every direction to avoid the destruction. The barrage of rubble forced us to split up, preventing the dragon from wiping us out in one fell swoop.
A chill ran down my spine as I glanced upward. I had taken cover between two half-standing structures, mere feet from where the undead behemoth loomed. The dragon hadn't simply appeared—it had been summoned. I realized now that stepping on what I thought was just an odd patch of ground had triggered a trap sigil. Its dark magic had brought this nightmarish creature into our path.
ROAR!
Another earth-shaking bellow tore through the air, followed by a cyclone of pressure that swept entire buildings into the sky. The force flung debris outward in all directions, turning bricks and beams into deadly projectiles. I barely had time to dodge before another chunk of a nearby structure came crashing down.
Ahead of me, I saw Neil and Ella huddled behind a crumbling wall of rock that Neil had hastily conjured. The makeshift barrier groaned under the dragon's relentless assaults. Hidden just behind it, Ella was letting loose arrow after arrow, each one tipped with precision, but her shots simply bounced off the dragon's decaying hide. Its undead nature rendered it immune to all of her efforts. Even Ben, darting across rooftops like a shadow, unleashed bursts of energy projectiles, but nothing seemed to faze the creature. It was relentless, its immunity a cruel joke against all our tactics.
The only one who seemed to hold her own was Jennifer. With her unique ability factor and finely honed battle arts, she was keeping the dragon at bay just enough to give us breathing room. Her attacks didn't damage it either, but her movements were deliberate, calculated—providing us with precious moments to regroup and strategize. She was a blur of white titanium and precision strikes, holding the dragon's attention and allowing the rest of us to fight without being immediately crushed.
As for me, I had one goal: to get close enough to the beast to strike with my enchanted blade. I gripped its hilt tightly, scanning for any opening to rush in, any weak point in its colossal form.
"Whose idea was it to leave the lower floor?!" Neil's shout cut through the chaos. He threw up another burst of wind magic, deflecting a rain of sharp debris threatening to crush him and Ella.
It had been almost an hour since we'd ventured out of the lower dungeon level—a replica of Thornhill's bustling city—and into this barren middle floor. The town here was desolate, a lifeless ghost town compared to the eerily inhabited streets of the floor below. The contrast was stark, and my thoughts wandered back to how we ended up in this mess.
~
I stepped through the white portal, the last of our group, my mind still uneasy about our decision. We'd just cleared the lower floor, but Jen had pushed for us to move higher, to test ourselves against more advanced challenges. I'd argued against it—these upper floors were dangerous, filled with foes that even a Mortal stage cultivator would struggle against. But Ella's determination to grow stronger had tipped the scales, and the others agreed. Now, as I stood in the eerie silence of what looked like an abandoned city, I couldn't shake the feeling that we'd made a mistake.
The city stretched out before us, its buildings ravaged by time. The ivory-colored walls of the structures were chipped and crumbling, some nearly collapsing in on themselves. Slanted roofs leaned precariously, and scattered about were statues—humanoid figures with broken limbs, others with the faces of beasts, their features eroded to grotesque masks. A sickly atmosphere hung over everything, a faint stench of decay mixed with something ancient and oppressive.
"What is this place?" Ella asked, her voice hushed as we walked cautiously down the empty street. Her excitement was plain on her face—she was the only one in the group who looked thrilled. I knew why. History and archaeology were her passions, and this forgotten city was the kind of mystery she loved.
"I don't like it," I muttered, my eyes scanning for movement. The air itself felt wrong, as if some malevolent force had steeped into the stones.
"We shouldn't touch anything here," Jen warned, her voice steady. "Ruins like this often carry dangerous spells."
Neil muttered a spell under his breath, the tip of his staff glowing faintly as he cast [Earth's Pulse]. The ground trembled subtly, the magic spreading out in waves to probe the city's energies.
"Something's off," Neil said after a moment. "The flow of World energy here… it feels wrong. Out of place."
While Neil tried to explain the distorted magic to Ben, I found myself drawn to the wall of a nearby building. Faint, ancient paintings covered the crumbling surface—scenes of a thriving city, long-lost rituals, and shadowy figures whose faces were barely discernible. The images felt oddly familiar, their story captivating. I followed them, my hand tracing just above the worn surface as the narrative unfolded. I didn't even realize how far I had walked until—
"Lith! Lith! Lilith!" Ella's shout cut through the silence. I looked down just as my foot pressed on a single brown tile amid the ivory stones of the street. A trap spell flared to life.
A pulse of black energy crackled across the ground, and a deafening roar ripped through the air. I staggered, barely keeping my balance as a skeletal monstrosity emerged from the shadows—a massive undead dragon. Its hollow eye sockets glowed with black fire, and the remnants of its decaying flesh clung loosely to its bones. Its bony wings unfurled, stretching out like jagged spears that blotted out the sky. With one swipe of its skeletal tail, it sent a cascade of shattered buildings skyward. I backflipped instinctively, narrowly avoiding the rain of debris.
[Frost Calamity: First Wave: Gale Ripple.]A gust of icy particles swept past me, freezing the incoming rubble mid-air. The frosty shield held for a heartbeat, blocking the avalanche, but the dragon's next strike shattered it effortlessly. Jen's ice had bought us a moment, but it wasn't enough.
"Who uses an undead dragon as a trap?!" Neil shouted. He planted his staff firmly, channeling his mana into a complex spell.[Exploding Fire Lance.]Flaming spears manifested in the air and hurtled toward the undead beast. They struck true, but the dragon remained unharmed, its skeletal body immune to the burning assault. Instead, it opened its maw, unleashing a torrent of black flames. The heat of it was suffocating, the flames crackling with an unnatural energy that made my skin crawl.
I moved instinctively, heading for Ella. My thoughts were singular: protect her, get her to safety. Nearby, Jennifer cast another spell, summoning a massive wall of ice to shield us. For a few seconds, it held, the black flames battering against the frozen barrier. But the ice began to crack, the fusion spell's sheer power overwhelming it.
"Incredible!" Neil said, even as we ran. "Those flames—they're not ordinary fire. It's a fusion spell. Two elements combined. Jennifer's ice isn't going to hold long against it—"Before he could finish, an explosion roared behind us. The shockwave tore through the city, leveling buildings and throwing us all into the air.
"Lith! Lith! Lith!" Ella's voice rang out as I drifted into unconsciousness.
When I came to, I was pinned under a pile of rubble, my head pounding. The world around me was a blur, my memory of the last few seconds fragmented. Someone's hands grabbed my arms, pulling me free just as another piece of a collapsing roof came crashing down where I had been lying.
I found myself crouched in the narrow space between two ruined buildings, my head throbbing from the impact. Jennifer was there, standing over me. Her sword was drawn, frost coiling off its blade in icy tendrils. Scratches lined her face, shallow but fresh, yet she stood firm, her sharp gaze locked on me.
"You need to stop worrying about her," Jennifer said, her voice steady and her expression unyielding. "Focus on yourself for once."
I scowled, the words hitting me harder than I expected. "Protecting Anna is all that matters," I snarled, unwilling to back down. Her eyebrow arched slightly as if she was about to say something more, but she let it go. Instead, her attention turned back to the massive undead dragon that loomed beyond us.
"That thing is at least Grandmaster level," she said coldly. "If you don't take this seriously, you're going to die." Without waiting for my response, she stepped out from our cover, her sword casting a gale of ice particles that spiraled into the air, clashing against the undead monstrosity.
I clenched my fists, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. She was right, and I hated that she was right. My gaze darted toward Ella. Neil's earthen barrier still held strong, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it shattered. My heart twisted at the thought of her unprotected, exposed to that thing.
"How the hell is an undead even here?" I muttered to myself. "Who left a trap like this?"
It didn't matter. My questions dissolved into irrelevance the moment the dragon let out another earth-shaking roar. Its maw glowed with concentrated black flame before a searing beam shot forth, slicing through Jennifer's icy defenses. The explosion that followed threw fire in every direction, chunks of burning debris raining down. I saw some of it hurtling toward Ella and Neil.
No time to think. I dashed forward, throwing caution aside. My right arm surged with power, dark purple mist coiling from my fingertips and rushing toward the flames. The mist devoured the black fire on contact, a swirling vortex of energy consuming the deadly heat. I focused all my strength on the ability, the void-like mist absorbing the black flames before they could reach Ella.
But as the flames dissipated, something strange happened. A sharp jolt hit my mind—like a thousand whispers stabbing into my skull. It wasn't just a rush of power; it was a rush of memories. Images, emotions, and thoughts that weren't mine swarmed my consciousness. I staggered, glancing down at my arm, then up at the undead dragon.
Were these its memories?
Without thinking, without a plan, my legs propelled me forward. The shouts of the others faded into the background as I sprinted toward the undead dragon, weaving through the debris-strewn battlefield. Ella's voice rose above the chaos, calling my name in alarm. Ben growled something—probably a demand to stop—but I didn't. For a brief moment, Jennifer and I locked eyes as I passed her. The intensity in her gaze almost made me falter, but I kept going. My focus snapped back to the skeletal beast looming ahead, its massive frame surrounded by writhing black flames.
A sudden rumble heralded the collapse of a nearby building. It crashed down directly in my path, leaving me no time to think. I dove forward with every ounce of strength, just barely escaping the deadly cascade of rubble. The ground scraped against me as I slid to a stop, my arm thrust out instinctively. Dark purple mist coiled from my fingers, surging toward the flames. The mist absorbed them greedily, snuffing out the deadly fire surrounding the dragon.
I could feel it—the energy flooding into me, coursing through my veins. It burned, twisting inside me, and then came the pain. Jolts of agony stabbed into my head as unfamiliar memories flooded my mind. I could see flashes of the dragon's past, back when it was alive. Scenes of majesty, power, and dominance filled my thoughts. The dragons, one of the ten Manaborn races, were legendary. Even Ella, a self-proclaimed expert in the history of the races, had spoken about them in awe. Dragons were said to be stronger than Vampires or Lycans, their might and essence unmatched.
According to her, half the Dragon race fought in the ancient War of the Race, a cataclysmic conflict that shaped the world as we knew it. The other half retreated to Azamuth, their distant homeworld, safe from the endless cycle of bloodshed. After that war, sightings of dragons became exceedingly rare. Most of what we encountered today weren't the awakened titans of legend but their lesser kin—Wyverns.
The creature before me was one of those lesser beings. Once a Wyvern in life, it was now nothing more than a skeletal husk powered by necromancy. Yet even in this state, it carried enough strength to challenge an Ascendant like Jennifer. The realization settled over me like a cold weight. I wasn't just running toward a beast—I was charging at something that shouldn't even exist, fueled by a dark force that defied natural order.
I summoned every ounce of mental strength I had, shoving the intrusive memories deep into my subconscious. There was no time to dwell on what the dragon once was. All that mattered now was eliminating this Infernal monstrosity before it could cause more destruction. The corrupted energy coursing through my body burned, but as I processed it, I felt it transform—refining itself into raw kinetic power. My muscles hummed with it, my senses sharpened. Digging my heel into the fractured ground, I clenched my fist, now crackling with intense, white-hot energy.
With a sudden burst, I launched myself straight at the undead dragon. My movements blurred with speed, my fist glowing brighter as I closed the distance. The air around me seemed to split apart, and for a brief moment, everything fell silent.
[Dancing Twilight–Booming Dawn]
I yelled the name of my strike, driving my fist forward and piercing through the dragon's hollow chest. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, white light exploding from the contact point. My hand closed around the creature's core—a pulsating, necromantic nexus. I yanked it free just as gravity took hold and began to pull me back down.
Jennifer leaped toward me in a blur, catching me mid-air and landing with graceful precision on a nearby structure. She didn't stop, bounding down the crumbling cityscape until we reached solid ground. As we touched down, the dragon behind us began to shudder. Without its core, the skeletal monstrosity started to disintegrate, its existence unraveling in jagged, black tendrils. I watched as the towering creature collapsed in on itself, leaving only the faint trace of necromantic energy in the air.
The others quickly ran to meet us, relief and shock etched on their faces. Ella reached me first, her eyes wide with worry, her breathing uneven. She reminded me so much of how she had looked two years ago—terrified, clinging to the hope that I would pull through. I hated putting her through that again, but I'd had no choice.
"Lil! Lil! Are you alright?" she asked, her voice trembling as she grabbed my arm, checking for injuries.
"I'm… I'm fine, Ella," I murmured, my grip tightening on the dragon's core. "It's over. I'm alright."
Jennifer kept a firm hold on me as I tried to stand on my own, only for my legs to give out beneath me. The exertion of the battle had taken its toll. She steadied me with surprising care, her expression unreadable.
Ben and Neil arrived moments later, both of them staring at the remains of the dragon, their expressions a mix of amazement and disbelief. Ben looked particularly shaken, his mouth hanging open as his gaze darted between me and the shattered remnants of the undead.
"How… how did you…" Ben began, his voice trailing off. It was clear he couldn't wrap his mind around what he'd just witnessed—what someone who wasn't an Ascendant had just managed to accomplish.
"We should destroy the core," Neil said, his voice firm. "Before it revives itself."
I glanced down at the core in my hands, its dark energy pulsing faintly, as if struggling to maintain its hold on existence. Tendrils of purple mist coiled from my arm, wrapping around the sphere. Slowly, I let the mist siphon away the necromantic energy. It flowed into me, cold and sharp, but I forced it deeper, past my consciousness, where I could lock away the flood of memories that came with it. The dark energy replenished me, filling the void left by the battle, and when the last traces of power faded, the core crumbled to dust.
****
Hours passed after we had taken refuge in a derelict cathedral at the heart of the ruined town. The structure's towering arches and stained-glass windows, though cracked and dulled, gave it an eerie sort of majesty. We huddled around a small fire in the center of the nave, its flickering light holding the suffocating darkness at bay. The air felt heavy, but the fire's warmth offered a fragile sense of comfort.
Ella sat closest to the fire, though she didn't need the heat. Her eyes, however, never left me. She hadn't said much since we arrived, but the unspoken questions weighed heavily in her gaze. A bottle of synthblood rested untouched beside her.
"You should feed," I said gently. "You used up a lot of mana."
She didn't respond, her expression unreadable.
Neil broke the silence. "Are we not going to talk about what happened?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and awe as he turned to me. "How…how did you do that? I thought you couldn't cultivate."
"I can't," I said flatly.
"But no human should be able to do what you just did," Neil pressed, leaning closer. "Unless you were a Manaborn. And even then, you'd need to be an Ascendant Manaborn to take down an undead dragon like that."
"Neil, maybe you should—" Ella began, but I cut her off.
"I can't use mana," I said again, meeting Neil's gaze. "But I can use Spirit energy. My soul…for some reason, it generates Spirit energy in a way that awakened my ability factor."
"An ability factor?" Ben chimed in, his tone curious. "Of course. That would explain it. If it's not magic or mana arts, then it must be tied to your ability."
"And your ability is linked to energy," Neil concluded, his eyes narrowing in thought. "That's why you could absorb the black flames—why you could pull in the necromantic energy from the core. You're drawing from something deeper than just mana. Spirit energy…that's how you did it."
"That still doesn't explain how you took down the dragon," Neil said, his brow furrowed. "Dragon scales are ridiculously tough—even for an undead creature."
"It's called energy conversion," Jennifer replied, her voice steady. "Energy can be broken down into a more fundamental form and then repurposed for different uses. Like, say, Kinetic force, which can boost physical strength. It's similar to how I absorb heat and turn it into ice—my ability factor lets me manipulate the energy I take in and transform it. That's how I freeze."
"So, in theory, you could've absorbed the dragon's flames the same way," Ella began, but Jennifer shook her head before she could finish.
"Not exactly," Jennifer said. "Those flames weren't ordinary. Neil was right about the fusion of fire and darkness elements, but there was something else. A third type of energy."
"Corrupted energy," Ben suggested, his expression darkening.
"Corrupted energy…" Ella repeated, the weight of the words settling over the group. "That's the energy of the Infernal plane. The dimension known as Hell."
Their eyes turned toward me in unison, as if searching for answers I wasn't sure I could give. I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
"My ability works on all kinds of energy," I said simply. "It doesn't matter where it's from."
"So that trap was the work of Black Magic," Neil said. "Who could have done it-"
"Instead of wondering who did it, maybe we should get some rest," Ben said. "We'll have to look for an exit soon enough."
"Ben's right," Jennifer said. "Wherever we ended up, for an undead of that power to be here, we must be somewhere high in the Dungeon. We'll have to find a way out."
"I'll take the first watch," I said. The others agreed, and all moved to find a spot to get some sleep. I turned to Ella and nodded towards the synthblood. She gave me a look before she took it and went to find a place for herself. As everyone settled down for the night, I finally had the time to let out a groan as the headache pricking my mind doubled down on me.
-
Tower Market Square
Pandemonium city,
Yorkside Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
October 29th 6410
The streets of Yorkside were alive with celebration, the air vibrant with laughter and music as the city commemorated Remembrance Day. The market square, nestled at the heart of Ashtarium's capital, had transformed into a kaleidoscope of colorful stalls, banners, and bustling townsfolk. It was a day that brought joy to most—a time to revel in the memories of the kingdom's storied past. But for Lilith Kain, the spectacle was just another occasion to endure. At fourteen, she'd grown numb to the holiday's cheer and found little reason to care for its festivities.
Lilith had recently been inducted into the Royal Guard, a position of considerable honor for someone her age. Her assignment was even more significant: serving as the personal guardian to Ariella Ashtarmel, the first princess of the kingdom. Though her duties were serious, today was anything but formal. Ariella, disguised in a historical costume, meandered through the market with a carefree smile, taking in the array of goods and trinkets offered by merchants.
Lilith followed close behind, her costume a testament to Ariella's persistent coaxing. The form-fitting black attire was overlaid with a striking red cloak, its hem trailing lightly as she walked. Her midnight-black hair had been braided into a long ponytail, the style unfamiliar and a little uncomfortable. Lilith would never have chosen such a look for herself, but Ariella had insisted, and Lilith had reluctantly agreed.
The two continued through the bustling Market square, one captivated by the festive sights and sounds, the other longing for it all to end. Ariella's enthusiasm led them from one vendor to another, her arms quickly filling with small trinkets and vintage goods. She finally led Lilith into a store with a peculiar symbol painted above the entrance: a strange circular device with a crank handle. Ella explained it was a record player—a relic from a bygone era.
As they entered, Ella's eyes lit up, her face a picture of childlike excitement. The store was packed with artifacts from before the wars—pieces of history that looked almost alien in the sleek, modern world of Ashtarium. It was a common sight on Remembrance Day. Vampires, it seemed, relished these opportunities to collect items from a time long past, indulging their passion for nostalgia.
Ella, dressed in her flowing white costume with golden hair and altered features—her usual striking blue eyes now disguised—dragged Lilith over to a corner display filled with records.
"I think you'll like some of these," Ella said, her voice bright with anticipation.
"I still don't see why we're here," Lilith muttered, crossing her arms. "Every year, you bring me out here, trying to get me to enjoy these things. I just don't see the point."
"The point, Lily," Ella replied patiently, "is that remembering our history—knowing what our forebears went through to get us to where we are now—helps ensure we don't repeat their mistakes. If we understand the past, we can plan for the future."
"Yes, I know," Lilith said with a sigh. "You keep repeating what your father said."
"And Father is right, Lily," Ella countered firmly. Over the years, Ariella had taken to calling Lilith by the name Lily, a preference she had adopted without much resistance. It set her apart from the infamous namesake they both wished to avoid—Lilith, the Vampire goddess. Besides, Ella had said it suited her better, reminiscent of the white Zaira lilies native to the Akebulan continent. Though she didn't admit it out loud, Lilith appreciated the name for that reason. Though she would always prefer the name she had chosen for herself, she had grown accustomed to the nickname Ella insisted on using.
Ella reached down and plucked a record from the pile, gently brushing away a layer of dust. The record, like so many others tucked into the forgotten corner of the shop, had been overlooked by the bustling customers. But Ella had a knack for spotting treasures that others dismissed. With her love for history, she was drawn to artifacts that spoke of the past—anything tied to art, literature, and cultural expression. This record would be another addition to her growing collection.
"This one looks good," she murmured, inspecting the faded label. "Even though it's not the full album. I can never seem to find the complete set with all their songs." She shrugged, tucking it under her arm, and made her way to the counter. After paying for the record, they stepped back out into the lively street.
Lilith cast a glance at the bustling square. "We should head back to the palace. If your mother finds out we're still out here…"
Ella turned to her with a smile. "Let's grab something to eat first."
"There's food at the palace."
"Not like this," Ella countered, pointing toward a nearby food stall. "Let's try something cooked by someone who isn't a royal chef. Look, over there—it smells amazing."
"Ari, I don't know if this is a good idea," Lilith said, her voice low. "We're already pushing it by sneaking out without permission…"
"Please?" Ella clasped her hands together, her eyes pleading.
Lilith sighed. She knew she couldn't resist that look. "Fine. But just one quick bite, and then we head back. Got it?"
"Thank you!" Ella beamed, wrapping her arms around Lilith in a spontaneous hug. "You won't regret it!"
In the end, it would be one of those days Lilith would come to regret more than almost any other.