The soft glow of dawn crept over the horizon, casting golden light on the assembled forces outside the gates of Ravenmoore. The Vengeful One stood at the head of her column, her dark cloak trailing behind her like an extension of her indomitable presence. Around her were 250 Marines from the 1st Dark Marine Battalion and the formidable 53rd Battle Group, their armor gleaming in the morning light and weapons glinting like promises of violence yet to come.
The air buzzed with anticipation, the soldiers straightening their postures as their queen began to move. The rhythmic stomp of boots against stone echoed as the march commenced, the gates of Ravenmoore swinging open to release its warriors into the wilds of the Ebonspike Range.
Grand Commandant Lian rode alongside the Vengeful One, her expression steady but tinged with curiosity. She glanced at her queen, her fiery crimson eyes glowing with an intensity Lian hadn't seen before. Her queen's lips curled into a faint grin, and though her composure remained regal, there was an unmistakable energy about her—a barely contained excitement that seemed to set her apart from her usual demeanor.
Lian hesitated before breaking the silence. "My Lady, if I may… Have you ever encountered an Umbra Wyrm before?"
The Vengeful One didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, the distant peaks of the Ebonspike Range drawing closer with each step of the march. For a moment, Lian wondered if she'd overstepped, but then her queen's smirk widened, her eyes blazing with a fiery glow that seemed almost otherworldly.
"Doesn't it sound fun?" the Vengeful One replied, her voice low and laced with exhilaration. She turned her head slightly, her crimson eyes locking onto Lian's with a ferocity that made the seasoned soldier catch her breath.
Lian wasn't used to this side of her queen. The Vengeful One was always composed, calculating, every action measured and deliberate. But this—this was something different. There was a raw energy about her now, a hunger that seemed to radiate from her very being. And while it was startling, it was also… inspiring.
"Fun, my Lady?" Lian repeated cautiously, trying to gauge her queen's mood.
The Vengeful One chuckled softly, the sound low and almost predatory. "A creature so fierce, so powerful, that armies have failed to subdue it? A beast that has defied conquerors for generations? Tell me, Lian, doesn't that sound like the perfect challenge?"
Lian blinked, her mind racing to process her queen's uncharacteristic excitement. "I suppose… in a way, yes. But it is also incredibly dangerous. The Umbra Wyrm is a creature of legend, my Lady. Even with our forces, it—"
"—it will fall," the Vengeful One interrupted, her voice cutting through Lian's words like a blade. She straightened in her saddle, her gaze snapping back to the horizon. "It will fall, and its head will hang from the walls of Ravenmoore as a testament to our strength. I don't fear danger, Lian. I revel in it. And so should you."
The sheer conviction in her tone left Lian momentarily speechless. She glanced around at the troops, many of whom were watching their queen with awe, their own excitement clearly ignited by her unshakable confidence.
Lian exhaled, a small smile breaking across her usually stoic face. "You seem more… energized than usual, my Lady. It's a welcome sight, if I may say so."
The Vengeful One's smirk softened slightly, though the fire in her eyes remained. "Do you know why I chose to lead this hunt personally, Lian?"
Lian shook her head, her attention fully on her queen.
"Because this isn't just about killing a beast," the Vengeful One continued. "It's about reminding these people—my people—that strength comes from action. From facing challenges head-on, no matter how daunting. The Umbra Wyrm isn't just a target; it's a symbol. A symbol of everything that defies us. And when it falls, so will the doubt of anyone who questions my rule."
Lian nodded slowly, her respect for her queen deepening with every word. "You're an inspiration, my Lady. I don't think I've ever seen the troops this eager before a mission. They can feel your energy, and it's driving them forward."
The Vengeful One chuckled again, the sound rich with satisfaction. "Good. They'll need that energy. Because when the beast shows itself, I expect every one of them to fight with the same fire I feel now. Together, we'll show that no challenge is too great for us. Not even an Umbra Wyrm."
Lian couldn't help but smile, though she quickly masked it with a salute. "You truly are one of a kind, my Lady. It's an honor to fight under your banner."
"And it's an honor to lead warriors like you, Lian," the Vengeful One replied, her tone softer now but no less commanding. "Now, let's focus. The mountains await, and the hunt is just beginning."
As they continued their march, the troops exchanged glances, the fire in their queen's eyes reflecting in their own. The excitement was contagious, spreading through the ranks like a spark igniting a blaze. Even the seasoned warriors of the 53rd Battle Group found themselves standing a little taller, their weapons held a little tighter.
At the head of the column, the Vengeful One allowed herself one more smirk—the thrill of the hunt coursing through her veins. The rhythmic march of boots against the rugged terrain filled the air as The Vengeful One led her troops deeper into the wilderness toward the Ebonspike Range. The anticipation in her veins hummed louder with each passing step, the fiery glow of Hunt's Euphoria burning bright in her crimson eyes. The troops followed her with unwavering discipline, their spirits lifted by her commanding presence.
Then, without warning, Great Sage's calm voice echoed in her mind. "My Lady, I must speak with urgency. The prolonged effects of Hunt's Euphoria are drastically deteriorating your cognitive functions. If this state persists, it will leave you vulnerable during the confrontation with the Umbra Wyrm."
Her lips curled into a grin, a low, unexpected laugh bubbling from her throat. The sound burst into a sharp, sudden outburst, startling the soldiers nearest to her. A few glanced at one another, their hands instinctively tightening on their weapons, unsure of what had caused their queen's amusement.
"Sage, you fret far too much," she said aloud, her voice carrying a light, almost mocking tone. She tilted her head back, her laughter continuing, though her troops found no malice in it—only unsettling confidence.
"My Lady, this is no trivial matter," Sage continued, unfazed by her dismissal. "The extended mental strain caused by Hunt's Euphoria has dulled your reasoning and heightened your aggression. While your power remains formidable, your ability to strategize may falter at a critical moment."
Her smirk widened, her fangs glinting in the morning light. "Sage, you sound like a worried nursemaid. Have you forgotten? I'm the chosen of the Gods and Goddesses. I'm their Dark Messiah, their weapon of rebirth and ruin. Do you think a little cognitive wear and tear can stop me?"
"I am well aware of your divine blessings, my Lady," Sage replied, its tone unwavering. "However, even the mightiest Dark Messiahs have fallen to overconfidence. Many underestimated the dangers of prolonged Hunt's Euphoria and paid for it with their lives. Your divine blessings are not immunity from mortal failings."
Her laughter stopped abruptly, her grin settling into something sharper. She slowed her march, her armored boots grinding against the dirt as she turned her gaze skyward, as if daring the heavens themselves to challenge her. Her troops instinctively slowed as well, their curiosity piqued by their queen's sudden halt.
"Sage, let me make this very clear," she said, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver through even the most seasoned of her Marines. "I do not underestimate anything. The Umbra Wyrm will fall because I demand it, not because I rely on blind arrogance. My blood burns with purpose, and that purpose is to conquer. Your warnings, while endearing, are unnecessary."
"Respectfully, my Lady, I disagree," Sage replied. "The warnings are not to diminish your power but to ensure you wield it wisely. Even the chosen can be undone by recklessness. It is my duty to safeguard your triumph, whether you wish to hear it or not."
Her smirk softened—just slightly—but her crimson eyes remained lit with defiance. "You worry too much, Sage. I don't underestimate my enemies. But I also don't fear them. The Gods and Goddesses have blessed me, and through their will, I will succeed. End of discussion."
Her words echoed in the air, and the troops resumed their march as she strode forward, her movements as confident as ever. Lian, riding close enough to overhear snippets of her queen's muttering, raised an eyebrow but remained silent, deciding against questioning the one-sided conversation.
Great Sage's voice returned, calm but persistent. "As you wish, my Lady. However, I implore you to remain vigilant. The line between confidence and carelessness is thinner than it appears."
"I tread it well, Sage," she replied inwardly, her smirk never wavering. "Now stop fretting. We have a beast to slay, and I intend to enjoy every moment of it."
As the fiery glow in her eyes flickered brighter, the soldiers near her exchanged glances. Her sudden laughter and confident demeanor inspired both awe and unease. To them, she seemed invincible, her energy infectious, even if they couldn't fully comprehend what burned within her.
Lian finally broke her silence, her voice cautious but curious. "My Lady, are you... feeling well?"
The Vengeful One glanced at her Grand Commandant, her grin returning. "Better than ever, Lian. The hunt calls to me, and I'll not keep it waiting."
Though the answer unsettled her slightly, Lian nodded, choosing not to press further. The queen's confidence was undeniable, and if nothing else, it gave the troops an unshakable sense of purpose.
As they marched onward, the peaks of the Ebonspike Range loomed closer, and the air grew heavier with anticipation. The Vengeful One's fiery eyes scanned the horizon, her thoughts racing with the promise of the hunt. Hunt's Euphoria burned within her, and though Sage's warnings lingered in the back of her mind, she dismissed them with ease.
The Vengeful One marched at the head of her forces, her cloak swaying with each step, her crimson eyes fixed on the jagged peaks of the Ebonspike Range drawing nearer. The world around her seemed to blur, the murmurs of her troops, the crunch of boots against gravel, and even the occasional call of a distant bird fading into a distant hum.
Her blood—no, something deeper—seemed to burn. It wasn't a mere warmth; it was a fire that roared within her veins, demanding action, demanding release. Her fists clenched and unclenched as a faint, almost imperceptible chuckle escaped her lips.
The Marines nearest to her exchanged wary glances, unsure of what had amused their queen. They quickened their pace, their disciplined silence masking their unease.
"Sage," she murmured inwardly, her voice carrying an edge of reluctant acknowledgment, "you may have been right."
"Elaborate, my Lady," Great Sage replied, its calm tone a stark contrast to the storm raging within her.
Her smirk twisted into something darker as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her thoughts churned like a raging sea, clarity slipping further from her grasp with each passing moment. "My mind... it's a haze. This infernal Hunt's Euphoria has reduced my focus to a singular, blinding need. I can't even think straight anymore. All I can see, all I can feel, is the promise of battle. The promise of the Umbra Wyrm."
Great Sage's voice softened, as if it had been waiting for this admission. "This state was inevitable, my Lady. Hunt's Euphoria is designed to amplify your combat instincts, but it does so at the cost of rational thought. The longer it persists, the more it will consume you. I warned you of this."
Her chuckle came again, low and bitter, her head dipping slightly as she strode forward. "Yes, yes, you warned me. And yet, here we are. I thought myself above such trivialities, but this... this is no trivial thing. My blood feels as though it's boiling. I can't even recall what we discussed moments ago. All I know—all I want—is the fight. The kill."
"Then it is imperative that you regain control, my Lady," Sage urged, its tone carrying a rare note of urgency. "The Umbra Wyrm is a foe of immense power. Entering the battle in this state will make you vulnerable, no matter how strong you are. Your troops rely on your leadership. Do not allow this frenzy to consume you before the true fight begins."
She slowed her steps, her fists tightening until her nails bit into her palms. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts, her glowing eyes darting to the horizon as if the mountains themselves mocked her. She couldn't deny the truth in Sage's words, but the thought of pulling back, of dampening the fire coursing through her, seemed unbearable.
"It's maddening, Sage," she admitted, her voice quiet but laced with frustration. "This hunger for battle, this... need. It feels as though it's a part of me now, and it's drowning everything else. Even speaking to you feels like dragging myself through a fog."
"And yet you are speaking to me," Sage countered. "That alone proves your will is not entirely lost. You are stronger than this, my Lady. You must be. For the sake of your mission, for the sake of your troops, and for the sake of the world you seek to rebuild. Harness the fire, but do not let it consume you."
Her lips curled into a faint, humorless smile as she tilted her head back, gazing at the pale morning sky. "Harness it, you say? Easier said than done, my ever-helpful guide. But... you're not wrong. I won't let this fire break me. It's mine to control, not the other way around."
The roaring blaze in her veins seemed to laugh at her defiance, daring her to try. She straightened her posture, her steps resuming their confident rhythm. The troops behind her, oblivious to the battle raging within their queen, fell back into their disciplined march.
"Sage," she muttered inwardly, her voice steadying even as her thoughts remained tangled, "you'll keep me tethered, won't you? If I falter, you'll pull me back. I trust you for that much."
"Always, my Lady," Sage replied with unwavering calm. "But I must reiterate: this fire will not extinguish itself. You must confront it head-on, as you would any enemy. Only then will you find clarity."
She let out a low hum, her smirk returning faintly. "Clarity... perhaps. But not now. Not yet. Let it boil. Let it burn. When the time comes, Sage, you'll see. This fire isn't a hindrance—it's a weapon. And when I unleash it... the Umbra Wyrm won't know what hit it."
Her words hung in the air, her resolve solidifying even as the haze continued to cloud her thoughts. She pressed forward, her glowing eyes fixed on the jagged peaks ahead. The fire within her blazing even more.
She lay sprawled on her mat inside the dimly lit tent, the faint glow of the enchanted barrier outside casting eerie shadows on the fabric walls. Her breathing came in short, ragged bursts, her chest rising and falling as if the very act of drawing breath was a battle in itself. The day had ended much like the two before it—no sign of the Umbra Wyrm, and no relief from the relentless fire coursing through her veins.
Her body twisted on the mat, her fingers clawing at the fabric beneath her as though tearing into it might somehow lessen the agony. Her crimson eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were now clouded with pain, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought against the raging storm within. The fiery glow of Hunt's Euphoria still burned in her gaze, a constant reminder of the skill that refused to release her.
She clenched her teeth, her fangs biting into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste barely registered amidst the torrent of agony ripping through her. Each wave of pain felt worse than the last, like molten steel flowing through her veins, threatening to consume her from the inside out.
"Sage..." she croaked, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Make it stop... just for a moment... please."
The familiar, calm voice of Great Sage resonated in her mind, steady as ever. "My Lady, I regret that there is no way to suppress Hunt's Euphoria without the completion of its objective. It is tied to your very essence as the Dark Messiah."
Her body convulsed again, her back arching as a fresh wave of agony shot through her. She let out a strangled cry, her nails digging into her palms. "This... this is unbearable. I can't... I can't think. I can't focus. It's like I'm being torn apart!"
"I understand your suffering, my Lady," Sage replied, its tone gentle but unyielding. "However, you must endure. This skill, while destructive in its current state, is also the source of your unparalleled strength. The pain is a byproduct of your unrelenting will to conquer."
"Unrelenting will?" she hissed, her voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down her face. "It feels like I'm dying! How... how is this strength? How am I supposed to lead like this?"
Sage's voice softened slightly, a rare note of sympathy weaving through its words. "You are the Dark Messiah, my Lady. Your strength is not derived from comfort or ease but from your ability to endure what others cannot. This pain is a testament to the power you wield. Few could bear it. You, however, will endure. Because you must."
She let out a shuddering breath, her body trembling as she wiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. "Endure... endure... That's all I ever do, isn't it? Fight. Endure. Conquer. It's endless, Sage. When does it stop? When do I get a moment to breathe?"
"You will find solace in the victory that awaits, my Lady," Sage replied. "The Umbra Wyrm is the key. Once it falls, this torment will cease, and you will emerge stronger than before."
"If I don't lose my mind first," she muttered bitterly, her body curling into itself as another wave of pain washed over her. Her hands pressed against her temples as if trying to hold her thoughts together, the haze of Hunt's Euphoria clawing at her sanity.
Her breathing slowed, though the pain remained as sharp as ever. She let out a broken laugh, her voice trembling. "You're right, Sage. I'll endure. I'll endure because I have no choice. But gods... gods, this hurts."
For a moment, the tent fell silent save for her labored breathing. The glow of the barrier outside flickered faintly, its light casting her tear-streaked face in stark relief. She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her skin once more as she forced herself to steady her thoughts.
"I'll endure, Sage. I'll endure because they need me to. Because I'm their queen. Because this is what I was made for. But I swear to every god and goddess watching me right now... when that beast shows itself, it will feel every ounce of this pain tenfold. I will make it suffer for every second of this."
"As it should, my Lady," Sage replied, its voice steady once more. "You are strong. Stronger than even you realize. This pain is temporary, but your strength is eternal. You will triumph."
She let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a faint, bitter smile despite the tears still streaming down her face. "Triumph. Yes... That's what this is all for. Tomorrow, Sage. Tomorrow, it ends." Her body twisted once more as the fire within her flared, her teeth gritting against the fresh wave of agony.
The Vengeful One lay sprawled in the underbrush, the soft hum of the wind around her doing nothing to soothe the raging storm within. The moon cast pale light over the clearing, her dark cloak tangled around her as her body trembled uncontrollably. Her fingers clawed at the earth beneath her, the cold dirt failing to cool the fire that burned through her veins.
"Sage... please..." she croaked, her voice raw and hoarse from days of suppressed screams. "I can't... I can't take this anymore. Do something. Anything. Swap a skill. Create a new one. Just... just give me a moment's peace."
"My Lady, I understand your suffering, but—" Sage's voice, calm and even as always, was cut off by her strangled cry.
"No! You don't understand! You can't!" she shouted, her fists pounding against the ground as tears streamed down her face. Her body curled into itself, clutching her arms as if she could hold herself together. "It's been a week, Sage. A week of this infernal fire eating me alive. I'm begging you... Please, just make it stop. Even for a moment."
There was a brief pause, as if Sage were calculating every possible option. "My Lady, I regret to inform you that there is no mechanism to suppress or transfer the effects of Hunt's Euphoria. The skill is inherently tied to your role as the Dark Messiah. Its purpose cannot be circumvented."
Her nails bit into her palms as she let out a guttural sound, somewhere between a sob and a scream. "What good is all this power if I can't even control it?! What use is being the Dark Messiah if I'm being destroyed from the inside out? I thought I was chosen! I thought I was supposed to rebuild this world, not be consumed by it!"
Sage's voice softened slightly, though it remained steady. "You are chosen, my Lady. And it is precisely because of your strength that you were granted this burden. Few—if any—could endure what you are enduring now. This fire, though unbearable, is proof of your unparalleled will. But you must hold on. The end is near."
Her body convulsed as another wave of searing pain shot through her, and she let out a pained gasp. Her vision blurred, her tears mixing with the dirt smeared across her face. "The end? Sage, I don't know if I'll make it to the end. I feel like I'm being ripped apart. It's like my soul is on fire. I don't... I don't know how much longer I can fight this."
"You will make it, my Lady. You must. You are not alone in this struggle. Your troops march under your banner, your people look to you for guidance, and I remain here to support you. This pain is temporary. Your legacy is eternal."
Her laughter was bitter, choked by the sobs she tried desperately to suppress. "Legacy? What good is a legacy if I'm not alive to see it? Damn it, Sage... If this is what it takes to be chosen, then maybe I don't want it anymore! I just want—just need—a moment of peace!"
The clearing fell silent save for the sound of her ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves in the night breeze. Sage's voice returned, quiet and resolute. "Peace will come, my Lady. But only when the hunt is complete. You are stronger than this fire, stronger than this pain. Hold on. Not for the Gods. Not for the world. But for yourself. You can endure this. I know you can."
She lay there, trembling, her tears soaking into the ground. The fire within her raged on, unrelenting, but Sage's words echoed in her mind, grounding her just enough to keep her from breaking entirely.
"For myself..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. She clenched her fists, her body wracked with another convulsion of pain. "For myself... I'll endure."
From the shadowy edge of the clearing, a figure loomed, cloaked in darkness. Their presence was silent, their form almost indistinguishable from the night itself. The faint moonlight glinted off their eyes as they watched the Vengeful One writhing on the ground, her body trembling with agony.
The figure's lips pressed into a tight line, their hands curling into fists at their sides. A flash of something—pain, hesitation, or perhaps guilt—flickered across their expression as they bit their lip, the sight before them clearly cutting deeper than they cared to admit.
For a long moment, they remained there, frozen between the urge to step forward and the weight of their own resolve. Then, as if making a silent decision, they retreated into the shadows, their figure melting into the darkness. Only the faint rustle of leaves marked their passing, leaving the Vengeful One alone once more with her torment.