A few years ago, from the orphaned ranks of Akkadia, a soldier emerged whose name was whispered in both reverence and fear—Shino. Raised in a world that cast her aside, she rose above it through sheer force of will. Her potential as both a mage and fighter set her apart, and she passed the grueling Carnage Exam alone, earning her place among the elite Orionis warriors. But her rise to glory was shadowed by the darkness that followed her first mission.
The village of Catal had long resisted the kingdom's reign, its warriors feared for their strength. Shino, a vanguard in the assault, led with ruthless precision, her blade cutting through Catal's defenders with terrifying ease. The bloody battle earned her the title Slayer of Nergal—a name that echoed both admiration and dread. But victory came at a cost she had never imagined.
After the fight, when the last embers of rebellion had died, Shino discovered the horrific truth of the kingdom's cruelty. The soldiers had taken orphans and young women from Catal, not as prisoners of war but as trophies for the nobles. Their cries haunted the night, and as her fellow soldiers indulged in their twisted celebrations, Shino's heart turned cold. A soldier, arrogant and emboldened by victory, approached her with cruel intent. Without hesitation, Shino struck him down, igniting a brawl that saw her fighting off her comrades with a ferocity few could match. But even she was not invincible—an attack from behind knocked her unconscious.
When she awoke, the damage had been done. The soldiers had taken their 'fun,' leaving behind a scene of horror that would scar her mind forever. Shino did not weep. She did not rage. She simply turned her back on the atrocity and walked back to the capital.
From that day forward, something inside her shifted. Every mission became an outlet for her rage, every battlefield a place to drown the memories of Catal in bloodshed. Her reputation grew, her name spoken with both reverence and fear as her skills in combat became legendary. But with every victory, the weight on her soul grew heavier, the darkness more consuming.
It was during a mission against the orcs of the Midlands that the shadows truly awakened in her. Thrust into the chaos by Valdir, her cowardly squadron commander, Shino's magic erupted in a violent display of shadow and flame, cutting through enemies with ease. But her newfound power was not a blessing—it was a curse. The more she wielded it, the more it consumed her, pulling her deeper into the darkness she had once feared.
King Sargon, ruler of Akkadia, watched her closely. He recognized the dangerous potential within her and sought to control it. An invitation came—an opportunity to join the Astral Vanguard, the most elite of warriors who served the kingdom without question. But Shino knew what it meant.
To join the Vanguard was to become a puppet to the kingdom's will, and she refused. She sabotaged her own tests, appearing weak, unworthy of the growing legend around her. But Sargon was no fool. He saw through her deception and began assigning her the most dangerous, cryptic missions.
One such mission changed everything. The orders were simple but cryptic: Don't trust the gods. Don't trust the humans.
With those words, Shino embarked on a journey that took her far beyond the borders of Akkadia, chasing the truth hidden in ancient myths and forgotten histories.
Her path led her to Sylvanith, the homeland of the elves, a land steeped in ancient magic and forgotten truths. As she wandered through the endless forests, her power grew darker, and the memories of Catal began to haunt her more fiercely than ever. The shadows she commanded wrapped around her like a shroud, shielding her from the world but also suffocating her with their presence.
It was in Sylvanith's ancient woods that she encountered Erion, the elven king. An elder with centuries of wisdom etched into his very bones, he saw through the storm that raged within her.
"The shadows cling to you, but they are not all you are," he said, his voice as gentle as the forest wind. With his guidance.
Shino began to understand the true nature of her power—not just as a weapon of war, but as something far older and more dangerous.
But Erion the elf king's teachings did not stop at understanding the shadows. He revealed to Shino that she carried within her the remnants of a holy war, a battle between gods and mortals long forgotten by most of the world. Her magic was tied to that conflict, her fate intertwined with forces far beyond the kingdom of Akkadia.
In the weeks that followed, Shino trained under the elves, honing her magic and discovering a deeper connection to the world around her. It was here, in the heart of the ancient forest, that she met Sara, a fierce dark elf whose fiery spirit challenged Shino in ways no one else ever had. Together, they forged an unbreakable bond—one that grew not just from battle, but from shared pain, trust, and a sense of purpose.
As her time in Sylvanith stretched on, Shino realized that the answers she sought were not just about her magic or her past—they were about the future of Akkadia and the world beyond. The gods were not to be trusted, and the kingdom.
The peaceful rhythm of Sylvanith was shattered on a night thick with the scent of rain, the sky heavy with clouds that threatened to unleash a storm. Shino had sensed it before the others—an ominous pull in the magic of the forest, as if the land itself recoiled from something lurking in the shadows. But it wasn't until Sara rushed into the clearing where Shino was training that the dread solidified into something tangible.
"Shino!"
Sara's voice was strained, her usually composed demeanor cracked. "It's the king—my grandfather. He's in danger."
Without hesitation, Shino rose, her muscles tensing. "Where is he?"
Sara's face was pale, her eyes filled with an emotion Shino had never seen in her before.
"He's gone to the Heart of the Forest. The legends… it's the Jormundra, the World Serpent. It's awakened."
The name alone sent a chill down Shino's spine. The Jormundra was no ordinary beast. It was a creature spoken of only in the oldest myths of Akkadia, a being said to have slumbered beneath the earth since the beginning of time. According to legend, the serpent's body coiled around the very foundation of the world, its movements capable of reshaping the land, its breath poisonous enough to rot the air itself. If it had truly awakened, the danger extended far beyond Sylvanith—it threatened to unravel the world.
Shino and Sara moved swiftly through the forest, their steps synchronized, their hearts heavy with dread. As they approached the Heart of the Forest, the once peaceful magic of Sylvanith had turned violent. The trees groaned as if in pain, their ancient limbs twisted unnaturally. The ground beneath them rumbled, and a foul stench filled the air.
Ahead, they saw him—Erion, the king of the elves. His once-majestic form stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking a massive chasm. But something was wrong. His posture was rigid, his magic flaring wildly around him as he tried to hold back the inevitable.
And then Shino saw it.
From the depths of the chasm, a colossal head rose, the scales of the serpent glistening like obsidian in the dim light. Its eyes, glowing a sickly yellow, locked onto Erion, and its massive maw parted to reveal fangs the size of trees. The Jormundra had awakened, its body rising from the earth like a nightmare made flesh.
The ground trembled as the World Serpent uncoiled itself, its immense body stretching for miles, disappearing into the mist of the forest. Every inch of its form seemed to vibrate with power, as if the very essence of the world was contained within it. Its presence alone distorted the air, making it hard to breathe.
Erion turned, his face grave. He had aged in the brief moments since Shino had last seen him, the weight of the battle already taking its toll.
"You should not be here," he said, his voice a strained whisper.
"We're not leaving you," Sara said, stepping forward. Her fiery determination clashed with the fear in her eyes.
Erion shook his head. "The Jormundra is not like anything you've faced. I must end this… alone."
But before anyone could respond, the serpent struck.
The Jormundra lunged, its body crashing through the forest with terrifying speed. Erion raised his staff, unleashing a torrent of magic, roots from the forest floor rising to entangle the beast. For a moment, it seemed the king had gained the upper hand, the serpent's massive form slowing as the ancient magic of the forest clung to its scales. But the beast's power was far greater than any spell could bind. With a single thrash of its tail, the Jormundra broke free, sending waves of destruction through the trees.