Above the royal capital of the Kingdom of Lunaris, the night sky was crystal clear, without a single cloud to obstruct the view. Yet, hanging in the heavens was only a thin, fragile sliver of a waxing crescent moon. The moonlight it cast was weak—hardly enough to pierce the gloom.
Between the battlements, towers, and rooftops, massive shadows crept in silence. The darkness seemed sheltered here, expanding quietly into every corner. On a night like this, those lurking within the shadows were even harder to detect.
From the distant night sky, a crow flew toward the castle on silent wings. It glided past the faint lunar silhouette, its form merging almost perfectly with the ink-black sky. Finally, the dark shadow landed lightly upon the stone balustrade of a castle terrace.
"Caw—" it croaked softly.
The glass doors of the royal bedchamber slid open slowly. A woman clad in deep violet robes stepped out. She was the Queen, her eyes a piercing, blood-red crimson. She approached the balcony, stopping before the crow. She extended a pale finger, gently stroking its obsidian wings as if rewarding a loyal spy.
A faint, chilling smile touched the Queen's lips. "You've done well."
"Continue to shadow them. Track their every movement."
"Once you have confirmed their true sanctuary... come and tell me."
The crow let out a sharp, high-pitched cry.
"CAW—!"
It unfurled its black wings and took to the sky once more, vanishing into the dim moonlight. The Queen's fingers drummed lightly against the stone railing of the terrace. She murmured to herself.
"So that's how it is..."
"Lunethia, accompanied by six others... currently in the mountain ranges."
Her crimson pupils narrowed slightly. "And it seems... they possess the strength to defeat a Magical Construct Beast."
"Incredible."
She fell silent for a fleeting moment, then let out a soft, cold sneer.
"However—if that is the 'hidden hand' she left behind... then I suppose nothing is impossible."
With that, the Queen turned and vanished back into the depths of her chamber.
Inside the chamber, the Queen came to a halt. She stood in heavy contemplation for a long moment, as if finally reaching a pivotal decision.
She began to stride toward the door, but as she passed a grand mirror, the reflection within suddenly distorted.
The image in the glass was no longer a simple reflection; the "Queen" inside seemed to exist in an entirely different realm. She drifted there with effortless grace, floating as if submerged in weightless water, her posture serene and unbothered.
The woman in the mirror let out a soft, melodic laugh. "Hehe..."
"My dear sister, why do you still refuse to give up?"
The Queen gave a cold, sharp huff. "Do not get ahead of yourself. Lunethia... will never live to see the night of the full moon."
Without a backward glance, she swept out of the bedchamber.
Moments later, the Queen entered the Great Throne Hall. With a mere flick of her wrist, the torches lined before the six massive windows ignited simultaneously. The flames flickered in the dark, casting long, wavering shadows that danced across the hall in a fitful rhythm.
She issued a cold command to her guards: "Bring me six wolves."
With the order given, she sat alone upon her throne, waiting in the silence. It was as if she were waiting for the commencement of a dark ritual.
Before long, the guards dragged six wild wolves into the hall. Caged in iron, the beasts had been struggling frantically, their snarls and barks echoing off the stone walls. However, the moment they laid eyes upon the Queen on her throne, every wolf fell instantly silent. They lowered their heads, their barks replaced by weak, trembling whimpers of pure terror.
The Queen gave a subtle nod. The guards retreated immediately, leaving the hall once more to the absolute stillness.
Slowly, six dark silhouettes materialized like ghosts in the center of the hall. Clad in midnight-black attire, they knelt on one knee in a synchronized salute.
"Shadow Unit Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven—present and awaiting Your Majesty's command."
The Queen's crimson gaze swept slowly over them. "I need you to kill someone."
"And this person... has six guardians."
Shadow Unit Two lifted his head. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet radiating absolute confidence. "We are the six strongest within the Shadow Unit, second only to Hunter."
"No matter who the target is—at Your Majesty's command, there is only one inevitable conclusion."
He bowed his head low. "—Death."
The Queen's eyes turned glacially cold. "Do not mention that traitor's name in my presence."
For a heartbeat, the very air in the hall seemed to freeze into a solid block of ice. Then, she spoke again, her voice low and measured. "However, to ensure this mission is executed without a single flaw... I shall bestow upon you a gift of power."
Though the six assassins felt a flicker of confusion, none dared to voice a single objection. The Queen flicked her wrist, and six crimson gemstones flew from her silken sleeves, clattering onto the floor before them.
"Each of you, take a stone," she commanded. "Then, seize one of the wolves."
The six nodded in unison. They collected the gems and unlatched the iron cages, each grabbing a wild wolf. Strangely, the beasts offered no resistance; they remained limp and submissive, as if their very wills had long since been crushed by an unseen weight.
The Queen nodded in satisfaction. She slowly spread her arms wide.
In the next instant—a massive, blood-red magic circle erupted into light across the floor of the Great Hall!
The assassins' faces paled with shock, but beneath the Queen's terrifying gaze, they remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear. The Queen's voice began to chant, a low, rhythmic vibration that seemed to crawl along the walls.
"By the sacrifice of human blood—""Let the wolf's soul enter the marrow.""Borrow the cunning of the beast—""Grant the speed that shatters armies."
Her voice grew colder, shedding any remnant of humanity as she continued the incantation:
"Flesh and soul shall now unravel.""Leaving only the curse of Eternal Night—""Offer up your spirits.""And become—My Hounds."
The moment the final syllable left her lips, the bodies of the six assassins and the six wolves began to convulse violently!
Their frames twisted and buckled; their flesh began to dissolve like melting wax. Realizing the horrific reality of their "gift," the assassins began to struggle in a frantic, desperate panic.
But it was too late. The crimson magic circle bound them like iron shackles. Not even a finger could be moved.
"AAAAAAAGH—!"
Agonizing, blood-curdling screams filled every corner of the Throne Hall. Simultaneously, the six crimson gemstones shattered in mid-air. The fragments transformed into countless scarlet threads, weaving themselves into dense webs that cocooned the melting forms.
Gradually, the screams faded into a wet, sickening silence. Six massive cocoons of pulsating blood-red silk now stood in the center of the hall.
The brilliance of the magic circle slowly faded into a dull, pulsing glow. The Queen leaned back against her throne, her breath slightly shallow from the strain of the ritual. She gazed at the six massive cocoons with a triumphant, predatory smile.
"Magical constructs forged solely from beasts... they are powerful, yes. But they lack the cunning and the combat intuition of a human."
She tapped her fingers rhythmically against the armrest of the throne, her crimson eyes gleaming with a frigid light. "Now... that weakness has been purged."
Time trickled by in the heavy silence of the hall. Just as the first sliver of dawn began to bleed across the eastern horizon—
The six blood-red cocoons in the center of the hall suddenly shuddered.
In the next instant—TEAR!
A hand, covered in thick, coarse fur and tipped with obsidian-sharp claws, burst through the side of a cocoon! The silk was ripped asunder with raw, primal strength. A hulking figure stepped slowly out from the wreckage.
Then came the second, the third, the fourth...
One by one, the cocoons shattered. Six silhouettes rose from the gory remnants of the silk. They were towering beings, their muscles bulging with unnatural power, their bodies draped in dense, grayish-black fur. Their faces were a horrific fusion of man and wolf—jaws filled with serrated white teeth, and eyes that reflected a ghostly green luminescence in the morning light.
They were monsters—neither fully human nor entirely wolf.
Having endured the agonizing reconstruction of their very flesh, their breathing was heavy and ragged. Yet, there was no trace of fear in their eyes. Instead, there was something far more dangerous: a near-manic surge of excitement and cold, focused rage.
One of the wolf-creatures looked down at its hands. It slowly clenched its fist, the razor-sharp claws clicking together with a metallic snick.
Then—"AWOOOO—!"
Six voices joined in a low, feral howl that vibrated through the stone foundations of the palace.
Upon her throne, the Queen sat in a posture of indolent grace. She rested her chin on her hand, her legs crossed, watching the transformation with quiet amusement. Her crimson pupils narrowed as she spoke, her voice like velvet-wrapped steel.
"Remember this."
"I have the power to bestow this strength upon you—and I have the power to reclaim your lives whenever I see fit."
The howling ceased instantly. The silence that followed was absolute.
In a synchronized movement, the six monsters dropped to their knees, their heavy forms shaking the floor. Shadow Unit Two lowered his lupine head, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
"We thank Your Majesty for this gift."
"We are yours—body and soul—for all eternity."
A satisfied smile played across the Queen's lips. "Good. You haven't lost the gift of speech."
She waved her hand dismissively. "From this day forth, you shall be known as... the Lycans."
The six monsters bowed their heads in unison. "We thank Your Majesty!"
The Queen lifted a finger, and six streaks of crimson light shot forth, embedding themselves directly into the foreheads of the six creatures. In an instant, a vivid image seared itself into their minds.
The snow-capped mountains. Seven figures. Six horses.
"Now," the Queen whispered, her voice chillingly soft. "You know exactly where they are."
Her tone hardened into cold iron. "Go. Slaughter the six guardians."
"And then—" she paused, her eyes narrowing. "Bring me the heart of Lunethia Velsaris."
The six Lycans bowed low. "By your command."
In the next heartbeat, six dark streaks vaulted from the massive windows of the Throne Hall, vanishing into the pale light of dawn.
[The Snow-Capped Mountains]
On the vast, white mountain pass, seven travelers on six horses moved slowly toward Starfall Cliff.
Lunethia and Rhine shared the lead on the white stallion, Storm. Gerald rode alongside them, guiding the way through the drifts. Lunethia turned her head slightly, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Gerald," she started. "That... 'Chakra' you mentioned earlier—is it something all of you can use?"
At her words, Rhine's jaw tightened, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face. Fortunately for him, Lunethia was seated in front and couldn't see his bruised ego.
Gerald let out a booming laugh. "Regrettably, no. For now, I'm the only one who has truly mastered it."
He shrugged casually. "The others? Well... they're still in the 'learning' phase."
Behind them, Rena overheard the remark and immediately spurred her horse forward to catch up. "Hey! Don't look down on us!"
"I can already use a bit of it!" she insisted, her chin held high.
Gerald spared her a sidelong glance, a teasing, skeptical grin widening on his face. "What you have is a 'trace,' Rena. Not a 'bit.'"
"You've still got a long way to go, kid."
Lunethia stroked the soft fur of the white rabbit in her arms, her voice tinged with a quiet hope. "Um... is it something I could learn too?"
Gerald froze for a second, a look of hesitation crossing his weathered face. "Well... I'm afraid that's not really possible, Princess."
Lunethia blinked, the light of anticipation in her eyes dimming instantly.
Seeing her disappointment, Gerald waved his hands hurriedly to explain. "It's not because you aren't bright enough, or that you lack the strength. Far from it."
"In fact—people like you, Rhine, and Karl... none of you can learn it."
Lunethia looked up, her brow furrowed in confusion. "But why?"
Rhine, riding beside her, clicked his tongue with habitual impatience. "Because Chakra is a power inherent to the human body."
He crossed his arms, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. "We, on the other hand, are the descendants of the Gods. What flows through our veins is Divine Power."
Gerald nodded, picking up the explanation. "Precisely. The divine blood in your veins has already shaped your pathways solely for Divine Power. But Chakra follows a flow that belongs only to humanity."
"To put it simply—" He shrugged, spreading his palms. "Your bodies don't have the pathways required to channel Chakra."
Lunethia fell silent for a moment. She looked down at the white rabbit nestled against her chest; its fur looked exceptionally pure under the rising sun. She let out a soft sigh and whispered, "I see..."
Sensing her melancholy, the rabbit lifted a front paw and gently patted her arm. Lunethia startled, then couldn't help but offer a small, genuine smile.
"It's okay," she murmured, scratching the rabbit behind its ears. "I'm fine."
Suddenly, Rhine spoke up, his gaze fixed on the peaks ahead. "All right. Enough small talk."
"If we don't pick up the pace, we won't reach Starfall Cliff before nightfall."
The group nodded in agreement. They spurred their horses forward, the rhythm of hooves shattering the crust of the fresh snow. A howling wind began to whip against them, sharper and more biting than before.
The travelers pressed on, silhouettes moving against the vast, unforgiving white of the mountain pass.
Time trickled by, marked only by the steady crunch of hooves on ice. About half a day later, a bitter, weary smile tugged at the corners of Gerald's mouth.
"It seems..." he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "My time is up."
Rhine's expression shifted instantly from focus to alarm. "What!? Old man! We're almost at the summit!"
"Just hold on a little longer!" he shouted, his voice laced with uncharacteristic anxiety. "We don't know the exact location without you!"
Gerald let out a jaw-cracking yawn, his eyelids fluttering. "My apologies... treat it as... your homework... Find it... yourselves..."
Before he could finish the sentence, his head lolled to the side.
"Zzzzz—"
A rhythmic, booming snore erupted from the old knight almost immediately. Fortunately, he had long ago secured himself to the saddle with thick leather cords, so despite falling into a dead sleep, he remained upright and steady atop his mount.
The horse, sensing its rider had lost consciousness, began to slow its pace. Rena spurred her horse forward, looping a lead rope around the reins of Gerald's mount to keep it moving with the group.
She rolled her eyes toward the heavens. "Every single time. Would it kill him to give us a proper heads-up for once?"
The group exchanged helpless glances, but there was nothing to be done. They pressed on, the wind growing increasingly savage as they climbed. By now, the snow was knee-deep, making every step an exhausting battle of endurance.
Finally, as the sky began to bleed into the dim hues of twilight, they arrived at the legendary site:
Starfall Cliff.
It was not merely a cliff, but a colossal chasm formed by two sheer, jagged rock faces standing in silent opposition. It looked as if some indescribable, primordial force had violently torn the mountain asunder.
The air here was different. Faint, silvery particles drifted through the atmosphere like glowing embers. These tiny specks of light danced in the gloaming, shimmering like stardust that had never quite settled.
Legend had it that long ago, this place was once a single, majestic mountain that pierced the very vault of the heavens.
The legend whispered of a night long ago.
A star descended from the heavens, a streak of burning fire that tore through the firmament. It was said that a God had hurled that star toward the mortal realm. When it struck, it slammed into the peak with cataclysmic force, the impact vibrating from the summit to the very roots of the mountain.
The massive mountain was torn asunder.
What remained was this colossal chasm—Starfall Cliff. It was a jagged scar left by celestial fury and divine will, a landscape so magnificent it felt like a living miracle.
But Rhine was in no mood for sightseeing. He scanned the surroundings, his face twisting with irritation.
"Damn it," he hissed. "There's nothing here but endless white and jagged rocks. Where is this 'sanctuary' supposed to be hidden?"
Rena let out a weary sigh. "Looks like we're on our own for this one." She turned to the spear-wielder beside her. "Milia, let's check that direction."
Milia nodded, immediately following her lead.
"Milia, be careful!" Gareth called out, his voice cracking with worry. "The edge is dangerous!"
Milia paused for a fleeting second. She stole a glance back at Gareth, her cheeks flushing a faint, soft pink. She gave a small, quick nod before hurrying to catch up with Rena.
Gareth stood there with a goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face.
Owen walked past him, muttering ruthlessly, "You look like a complete idiot right now. Come on."
"Wait for me!" Gareth yelped, scurrying after him.
The group fanned out in different directions to search the perimeter. Soon, only two remained by the central clearing. Rhine continued to pace nearby, scouring the ground for any sign of a hidden entrance, while Lunethia sat by a jagged rock.
She stayed close to the slumbering Gerald, keeping watch over the old knight while stroking the white rabbit in her lap.
Time ticked away. But despite Rhine's thorough search, he found nothing that resembled a sanctuary. Here, amidst the howling wind and the shifting drifts, there was only snow, stone, and the abyss.
There was nothing at all.
Rhine finally lost his patience. He knit his brows and turned back toward Lunethia.
"Hey, White."
He pointed a thumb at the snoring Gerald. "Can't you talk to that sleeping old man of yours? Ask him. Where exactly is this sanctuary hidden?"
Lunethia's expression instantly turned cold. She looked away, choosing to ignore him entirely.
"Huh?" Rhine raised an eyebrow, his ego piqued. "Fine. Don't ask then. I don't believe for a second that we can't find it on our own!"
With a huff, he turned back into the white expanse, stomping through the deep drifts as if taking his frustration out on the snow itself.
Time slipped away as the search continued. The sun began its slow descent into the west, casting long, jagged shadows between the twin cliffs of Starfall. The air grew colder, and a heavy, expectant silence settled over the chasm. Yet, beyond the endless ice and stone, they remained empty-handed.
Rena eventually let out a weary sigh. "Boss... why don't you just apologize to Thea and have her ask Gerald?"
She shrugged casually. "Wouldn't that be a whole lot easier for everyone?"
Rhine shot a look back at her, his face sour. "Why should I apologize? I haven't done anything wrong."
Just then, Lunethia approached him. She stood directly in his path, her gaze unwavering and fierce.
"I told you," she said firmly. "Call me—Thea."
Rhine curled his lip in a stubborn pout. "I think 'White' suits you better." He spoke with defiance, but there was a faint, hidden tremor of guilt in his voice.
The distance between them closed without either of them realizing it. Lunethia took another step forward. They were so close now that they could almost hear the rhythm of each other's breath.
Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet it remained as sharp as steel. "Call me... Thea."
Rhine stared into her eyes. In that heartbeat, his mind went completely blank.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the chasm, whipping Lunethia's dark hair across her face. Her deep blue eyes were as clear and steadfast as starlight in a midnight sky. Her cheeks were flushed with a faint, burning red, yet she didn't yield an inch.
Suddenly, Rhine's entire face turned a brilliant, unmistakable crimson.
He jerked his gaze away, his heart hammering against his ribs. "...Hmph."
Rena, watching from the sidelines, didn't miss a detail. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Oh ho~ Our big, tough Boss is actually blushing? Now that is a rare sight~"
Rhine scrambled to his feet, turning his back to the group. His voice was a frantic, unconvincing mess. "I—I am NOT blushing! I'm going to find that sanctuary myself!"
He beat a hasty retreat, trudging through the snow as if he were escaping a battlefield.
"Pfft—" Milia finally let out a soft laugh. "I've never seen Rhine act like that before."
Gareth couldn't help but chime in with a grin. "Well, can you blame him? Thea is just that beautiful."
Milia tilted her head, her gaze shifting to him with genuine curiosity. "Oh? So you think she's beautiful, too?"
Gareth froze instantly, looking as if he'd been struck by a Petrification spell.
"Huh? No! No, no, no!" He waved his hands frantically in front of his face, his expression shifting from a grin to pure, wide-eyed panic. "That's not what I meant! I meant—Rhine! It's Rhine who thinks she's beautiful! Only him! I'm just... stating his opinion!"
Milia blinked, watching his sudden outburst with a puzzled look. After a moment of serious thought, she nodded slowly. "Hmm... I suppose you're right. Though, I think Thea is beautiful, too."
Owen stood nearby, remaining silent. He caught Gareth's eye for a split second, a small, rare smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
But as they shared this brief, lighthearted moment—none of them noticed the horror unfolding in the distance.
Across the vast, desolate snowfields, six blurred, obsidian shadows were closing in at a terrifying speed. They were hulking forms, sprinting on all fours with the predatory swiftness of wolves.
Their crimson pupils flickered with an eerie, supernatural light through the biting wind. With every powerful leap, they kicked up swirling vortexes of snow and frost.
Like apostles of death surging from the blackest depths—the killing intent was screaming toward them, silent and unseen.