Lilith
Enoch Forests
Thornhill,
Vankar Island
Northern Isles Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
November 15th 6414
As the blinding light from the Falling Crescent Fang Slash finally began to fade, a sudden sting laced across my cheek. Blood beaded instantly—a thin, clean line where something had just grazed me.
A slash.
Too fast. Too close.
Had I not shifted even a single inch in that moment, my neck would've been severed from my body. My heart pounded like war drums as the realization sank in—I had narrowly escaped death.
Then I saw him.
Standing tall amidst the devastation I had unleashed, untouched by the blast, was the Armored Knight.
The black flame-like aura that emanated from his armor had intensified—thickened, sharpened. It coiled and flickered like a living thing, hungry and volatile, as if feeding off my attack. The temperature around him plummeted and spiked in the same breath, making the air writhe with pressure. The very walls of the chamber vibrated under the weight of his presence.
My bones began to rattle. Not from fear—but from the oppressive mana pressure radiating off him like a crushing tide. It was as if the ritual chamber itself was suffocating beneath the weight of his ascendant power.
Then, without warning, he moved.
The Cambion surged forward like a black tempest. His weapon carved the air, and from each motion, slashing arcs of energy ripped forth—projectiles forged from pure malevolence and lethal intent. They danced toward me like spectral blades, each one tracing my death in the air.
He wasn't attacking to test me anymore. He was attacking to kill.
I twisted into motion, blades at the ready, every fiber of my being alight with tension and instinct. The Dancing Twilight stances surged through my body like muscle memory married to battle-honed intuition. Sparks flew as I parried the first slash, narrowly avoided the second, and ducked beneath the third.
And still—he came, relentless as a collapsing star. More of his spectral blade slash came for me, forcing me to blink out of the way of the attacks. And then even it began to move faster, it's speed outpacing even mine.
He spinned it's weapon like he was wielding dual blades itself, not just one single massive weapon, his style of battle relentless, predatory, and filled with lethality. I was doing my best to doge as much as I could, but tiny injuries began to accumulate on my body. And even this one, I couldn't heal.
I was forced to get creative, relying more on Mana arts this time around. My spell skills were greater than mu Mana art skill, so this was my chance to refine it. I used flash step, Aeternum's mobility ability, alongside with the movement technique. A pair of mystic framework appeared underneath my feet, just as the golden light warped me out of the way of it's slashes.
The combination of the two abilities generated a series of afterimages of me, dancing through the air, coming at the Cambion. But the Knight was not perturbed by my skills. It just increased the speed of it's slashing and cutting power.
"Impressive combining both transport techniques into one. But that is not enough to defeat the Cambion. I have molded as much Spirit energy into Mana, for one powerful technique," Aeternum whispered in my head.
"What kind of technique," I growled as more of the afterimages of myself was cut down.
Aeternum, pulsing within my soul, whispered. "You must remember you're are not just a blade user nor a spellcaster. You are a convergence of both path. And with my help, you can do more."
I breathed in sharply, feeling the pulse of my Primal Harmonics ability stir and spiral through my veins like a second heartbeat. The energy from within Aeternum was released into me, flowing from my soul core to the developing Mana core. My Star core within my mind flared up, the five rings of energy around it rotating as fast as possible. My mana surged—not as a torrent, but as a harmony. Fire, water, wind, earth, light, and darkness—each of this elemental energy threaded itself through my blade, their vibrations resonating with my intent. I switched stances. No longer first or second. This was the fourth form of the Dancing twilight art.
Twilight Harmonic Convergence.
My blade began to hum—a radiant melody that rippled through the chamber as I flowed into motion. The spell cores embedded within the Sacred-grade weapon activated in tandem, fed by my harmonized will. Symbols spun in my iris, elemental circuits dancing to life in a weaving array of sixfold glyphs.
With a single motion, I swept the blade in a spiral arc as the elements responded with my intent. Fire flared into a roaring crescent slash. Wind coiled behind it, accelerating its speed. Water followed, cooling the air and crystallizing the vapor into blades of ice. Earth erupted beneath the Cambion's feet, destabilizing his stance. Light exploded in a blinding burst, forcing his helmet to flicker under the glare. And darkness, subtle and insidious, wrapped around the edges of the attack, sharpening its lethality.
The dance was not wild but choreographed—a divine form made from fury, focus, and balance. I moved not like a warrior, but like a storm wearing a human shape. Each step a rune. Each swing a hymn. The attack landed. A shockwave of colorless brilliance burst outward—elemental auras layered in harmonic resonance, tearing across the Cambion's armor in a dazzling cacophony of force. His weapon cracked under the pressure, his footing faltered, and for the first time...
He stumbled.
I breathed hard, chest heaving, each inhale dragging sharp against my ribs. My arms trembled from the exertion, the air still heavy with residual mana. That last technique… it had taken more out of me than I'd anticipated.
I glanced upward. The ceiling of the ritual chamber was gone—collapsed in a thunderous cascade of broken stone and glowing ash. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the settling dust, illuminating the aftermath of my strike like a divine spotlight.
"...What was that?" I whispered, still staring at the gaping wound in the sky above.
Aeternum hovered near my shoulder, its core pulsing with soft, golden light. "That," it replied, voice tinged with something between awe and calculation, "was a Dungeon-tier spell."
I blinked, disbelief cutting through the haze. "A Dungeon-tier spell? But that's…"
"...Only achievable by those in the third stage of cultivation," Aeternum finished for me. "Under normal conditions."
Its mechanical eye turned slightly toward me, narrowing. "But your Ability Factor—Primal Harmonics—resonates on a higher dimensional scale. With my internal matrices amplifying the convergence point between your elemental manipulations and martial flow, we were able to simulate the spell. Temporarily."
I looked down at my Sacred-grade blade as faint, spiderweb cracks began to spread along its surface—fine at first, then widening with every heartbeat. The weapon, once pulsing with steady power, now trembled in my grip like it knew the end had come. The strain from channeling a Dungeon-tier spell—something far beyond my current limits—had pushed the blade past its threshold.
A soft hiss escaped as mana vented through the fractures. And then, with a sound like shattering glass wrapped in a sigh, the blade disintegrated—reduced to motes of fading light and smoking fragments that crumbled from my hands.
A crash snapped my head up.
The rubble on the far side of the chamber exploded outward, stone and dust billowing like a shockwave. The Cambion emerged—its monstrous form staggering forward from the wreckage. Cracks ran jagged through its armor, glowing with volatile energy. Segments of its plated shell had burst open, revealing not flesh beneath... but seething darkness. Black flame-like energy bled from every break, writhing like living tendrils of a fire that devoured reality itself.
"You..." I muttered, my voice caught between awe and dread. "What in the world are you?"
This wasn't just a Cambion. Cambions were hybrids—flesh and blood, the offspring of infernal and mortal. They bled. They screamed. They died. But this creature... this thing was something else entirely. Not a hybrid. A construct. A convergence.
Its form radiated wrongness—like the world itself was trying and failing to define it. I felt it in the air, the weight in my bones. The pull of space, slightly off, like gravity was bending around it. The scent of burnt ozone and ash. The eerie silence between each of its steps.
The Cambion raised its head, black flames licking from beneath the helm like tongues of voidfire. Its presence didn't just press on my mind—it warped it. Like reality tilted in its direction. Like existence strained just to keep it here. No... it wasn't made of infernal mana and standard mana. It was mana. An incarnate will, forged from corrupted world energy and bound in armor. And it was far from finished.
I tried to move, but my limbs refused to obey. Agony lanced through every fiber of my being, like glass scraping through muscle and marrow. My mana core was completely depleted—no trace of power left. Even the stabilizing rings around my star core had unraveled, leaving my internal channels barren and raw.
"I should have known," the Cambion growled, stepping forward with black fire leaking from its cracked armor, "that Aeternum would play a part in this." Its eyes gleamed with malice. "But it ends here. You're out of tricks, Laplace Seedling."
It summoned its infernal scythe-axe again, the weapon materializing in a vortex of black flame. With a surge of speed that blurred space itself, it burst toward me—intent to cleave me in two and erase my existence.
But then—light.
Flakes of white luminance drifted through the air like falling snowflakes. A brilliant column of light streaked through the chamber horizontally—an impact like a divine lance smashing into the Cambion and hurling it away from me in a cascade of scorched rock and howling flame.
The attack was familiar. Too familiar.
I raised my head.
Standing atop the shattered rim of the cavern ceiling was Jennifer—silver-bluish armor gleaming, her rapier extended in the aftermath of her strike. Mana flared around her like a blade's halo, a queen of steel and precision.
Beside her stood Ariella, calm and fierce, the string of her bow taut with radiant force. She loosed arrow after arrow of pure mana, each shot whistling through the dust-choked air with pinpoint lethality.
The Cambion roared, breaking through the barrage like a force of nature, shrugging off their coordinated strike.
And then, from above—
A blur of motion.
Ben dropped from the sky, half-shifted into his Lycan form. His arm, elongated and furred, bristled with strength as his claws shimmered with condensed kinetic energy. He slashed downward, sending twin blades of compressed wind hurtling into the Cambion's path.
My eyes widened. My breath caught in my throat.
My raiding party.
They came.
Stunned, I watched as they coordinated effortlessly, leaping and repositioning, drawing the Cambion's attention. I hadn't called them. I hadn't even known they were near. How they found me—why they came—I couldn't understand.
Pain throbbed anew in my chest. I tried to rise—tried to move—but then a hand pushed me gently back down.
Neil appeared beside me, staff in one hand, his other palm radiating healing light as he knelt.
"Easy," he murmured, voice calm and grounding. "We've got you."
A Tier Three Light spell surged from his staff, forming a radiant green halo above me. Warmth seeped into my body as his healing spell began knitting muscle and soul alike. My wounds mended, but more than that—I felt my soul core stir.
Spirit essence flowed into me—drawn from the world around us, and under Neil's guidance, purified into usable mana. My mana core drank deeply, slowly reigniting. My vitality returned in trickling waves, enough to breathe, enough to stand.
I looked up again—at the chaos, at the battlefield that had become my tomb and sanctuary—and whispered, "You found me…"
Jennifer's voice rang out like steel on steel. "Of course we did."
Jennifer leapt from the fractured rim of the chamber, gliding through the air with fluid grace. Beneath her boots, frozen pathways shimmered into existence—thin, crystalline bridges of ice that appeared and vanished with each step, as if she were skating through the air itself.
Her rapier lifted high, mana coiling around the blade in a frosted spiral. Then it fell, slashing downward in a precise, devastating arc.
[Frost Calamity: First Wave—Gale Ripple.]
The air fractured with a sharp crack, as if winter itself had descended upon the chamber. Shards of ice and biting wind howled downward, bombarding the Cambion in a cascade of frost-laced particles. The intensity of her attack eclipsed anything I'd ever witnessed from her before. The force of her mana, the precision of her strikes—it was overwhelming, unrestrained.
She's not holding back, I realized, awe mixing with relief. Not this time.
Before the Cambion could recover, Jennifer's blade swept again.
[Frost Calamity: Second Wave—Fang Gale Slash!]
A brilliant arc of white light erupted from the rapier's tip, the frosted mana slash tearing through the air like a winter storm's blade. It collided with the Cambion in a searing burst of light and ice, hammering against its cracked armor. The relentless assault finally staggered it, forced its focus inward. More fissures spread across the blackened plates, the creature's cursed form finally registering the danger.
The Cambion hissed, black flames leaking from its fractures.
"Another of you…" it snarled, voice layered with hatred and exhaustion.
It vanished—leaping backward, dematerializing into shadow and flame, then reappearing farther across the ruined battlefield. The oppressive mana it radiated dimmed, receding like a storm pulling back from a shattered coast.
"I shall return for you all," it spat. The black flames behind it twisted into a swirling vortex, a gateway of infernal fire that roared to life and consumed it whole. Within moments, it was gone—leaving only scorched stone and silence in its wake.
I clenched my jaw, fists trembling with rage and renewed strength. My mana core, once empty, now brimmed with power—my soul core drawing in spirit essence with a hunger I'd never felt before. The rapid rejuvenation wasn't Neil's doing. It was my Ability Factor, harmonizing with the ambient energy, pulling life back into my veins. Even Aeternum's core pulsed steadier now, fueled by the fragments of energy I spared to stabilize it.
"We have to go after it," I growled, my body leaning forward, every instinct screaming to finish what we started.
"Not now," Ariella said firmly, lowering her bow. Her tone was calm but unyielding, her eyes scanning the wreckage. "We need to regroup. Think. Strategize our next move before we play into its hands."
I opened my mouth to argue—but Jennifer spoke, stepping beside Ariella, her breath fogging the cold air left in the wake of her frost arts.
"She's right," Jen said, her voice steady but hard. "We can't rush this. It knows something we don't. And it's counting on us to act recklessly."
I exhaled sharply, my rage smoldering beneath the surface.
"Fine," I said at last, forcing myself to stand down. "But next time… we finish it."
-
District Fractisus
Pandemonium city,
Yorkside Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
October 29th 6410
Ariella was confined to the far corner of one of several cramped rooms within the hideout, her wrists and ankles tightly bound with reinforced chains, while a damp cloth blindfolded her eyes. Disoriented and groggy from the lingering effects of the gas used to incapacitate her, she couldn't tell where she was, nor did she have the strength to try escaping. A dull ache pulsed behind her eyes, and her limbs felt heavy, weighed down not only by the restraints but also by the lingering toxins still coursing through her body.
She curled into herself, shivering slightly despite the stale warmth of the room. A wave of nausea rolled through her, and the air carried a thick, musty stench—old sweat, rust, and something far more unpleasant. Regret gnawed at her heart as she replayed the events that had led her here. Sneaking out of the palace had been foolish—reckless even. And now, she had dragged Lilith into danger because of her mistake. This was all her fault.
Ella clenched her fists and tried pulling against the chains again, but they held firm, clinking with a cruel finality that only deepened her despair. She strained her ears and caught fragments of hushed conversations—low voices, some murmuring, others laughing—but the words were distorted, muffled as if spoken from behind a veil. She couldn't make out what they were saying, only that they were watching… waiting.
At the very least, Lilith wasn't here. That gave Ella a sliver of relief. If Lilith had been captured too, things could have spiraled even further out of control. Still, the thought of what these people might want with her gnawed at her. Were they holding her for ransom? It made sense. As a princess, her life held considerable value. The Kingdom would do whatever it took to bring her back. But that was the last thing Ella wanted—her kidnapping triggering a public crisis or leading to bloodshed on her behalf.
Closing her eyes beneath the blindfold, she reached inward, attempting to access the mana circulating within her internal system. She focused on the mana core she had only recently begun forming, hoping to ignite even a flicker of energy that could help her break free. But her efforts were met with silence—empty, disconnected. Her mana refused to respond.
Though her soul core had awakened, her mana core had yet to take shape, it was still in its infancy, fragile and incomplete. Worse, the poison inside her continued to disrupt the delicate balance of her energy pathways, blocking the natural flow of mana through her body. The sensation was like trying to breathe with water in her lungs—frustrating and suffocating.
Ariella clenched her jaw, struggling to hold back tears of frustration. All she could do now was wait… and pray that Lilith wouldn't come charging in recklessly.
Because if she did, someone—maybe everyone—would die.
And that's exactly what happened.
Still blindfolded and bound, Ariella's head jerked up as a sound ripped through the room—a scream, raw and agonizing, pierced the air like a blade. It wasn't just pain. It was the sound of someone dying. Something dying. The darkness behind her blindfold seemed to grow heavier, thicker, as more screams followed, one after another, their desperate echoes cut short by final silence.
Outside that chamber of dread, Lilith approached the heavily guarded corridor—her expression cold, her presence oppressive.
The passage was secured by a group of armed guards, Manaborn mercenaries clad in mismatched armor and gripping mana-rifles, their weapons humming with charged energy. They stiffened the moment they laid eyes on her. A fourteen-year-old girl, walking toward them without hesitation, her orange eyes glowing faintly in the gloom. But it wasn't her appearance that made their nerves fray—it was her aura.
It felt like death was walking.
Their instincts screamed at them—run, hide, shoot—but their training forced them to hold the line.
"I'm only going to say this once," Lilith said, her voice calm and chilling. "I'm not here to talk about justice or fairness. Your very presence here marks you for death. But I'll offer you one mercy—step aside and live."
Silence.
Then one of them—a tall man with black hair tied back in a bun and wearing forest-green combat armor—smirked and stepped forward, leveling a pistol at her head.
"Girls like you need—"
He never finished the sentence.
In a blink, Lilith vanished. A heartbeat later, her arm was buried up to the elbow in his chest, her hand gripping his heart like a bloodied fruit. Shock froze on his face as she slowly pulled her arm back, the organ still pulsing in her palm before she let it drop.
Blood exploded across the floor.
By the time the other guards processed what had happened, Lilith was already gone again—flickering through them like a phantom of vengeance. Heads fell, bodies dropped, and screams were swallowed by the wet sounds of death. Blood sprayed in arcs, painting the walls, pooling at her feet. Her hands, her face—everything about her was painted in crimson now.
And still she walked forward, slowly, deliberately, toward the secured door.
Beyond it, the remaining guards who had watched in horror from their cameras and peepholes scrambled to raise the alarm. They shouted into comms, drew weapons, screamed orders.
But deep down, they knew. Death was already inside
[Primal Harmonics: Ebon Radiance]
From Lilith's right palm surged a piercing beam of concentrated power—dark purple in its core, edged with a blinding halo of violet-white light. The blast screamed through the air with a sound like splitting reality, tearing forward in a straight, merciless line. It struck the reinforced door with devastating force, obliterating it in an instant and continuing on, carving through layers of concrete, steel, and flesh like they were paper.
The building shook violently as the blast bored through wall after wall, a catastrophic lance of energy that left only smoldering ruin in its wake. The hallway beyond was consumed in a vortex of annihilation—flames licked up the walls, heatwaves rippled outward, and screams were cut short as the occupants were reduced to charred silhouettes. Flesh sizzled and hung in the air like smoke-torn ribbons, the scent of burnt blood saturating the atmosphere.
Lilith stepped calmly into the aftermath, her expression unflinching. The hallway around her was bathed in flickering violet fire, the remains of the blast echoing with low, humming resonance—a residual effect of her Ability Factor, Primal Harmonics.
She didn't need to search.
Her senses had already locked onto the poison user's energy signature—sharp, oily, and twisted. It pulsed like a dying heartbeat deeper inside the building, unmistakable even beneath the layers of scorched destruction. Her steps were silent against the ash-covered floor as she moved forward, eyes glowing, a living embodiment of wrath wrapped in silence.