"Mama…" A young girl's voice, soft and innocent, called out.
"...What is mana? And how does it work?" she asked, curiosity lighting her tone.
"Mana is energy born from the soul," a mature woman's voice replied gently. "It flows through the body, carried by the soul. It is life itself."
"So…can we create life with it?" The girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Some believe it's possible…" The woman answered, her voice trailing.
"But mana…It only takes life. That's why demons devour the living."
"But there has to be a way…right, Mama?" The girl whispered.
"If there isn't… I'll find one." She said, her tiny hands clenching with resolve.
"I believe you will… my dear Chloe." Her mother smiled.
"I will find it." Chloe said again, this time more to herself, as she stared at the faded photo inside her pocket watch, her family, forever frozen in time.
That conversation, from fourteen years ago, echoed in her mind like a ghost.
Back when she was only five, back when her little bubble of happiness hadn't yet burst.
"Chloe…" A voice pulled her back to the present.
A man in a crimson hood stood before her, his robes embroidered with golden sigils and ceremonial chains. He watched her carefully.
Chloe remained silent.
He cleared his throat. "I miss her too."
He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she brushed it off without a word.
"I know…she wouldn't have approved of what we're doing." He said quietly. "But this…this is for the greater good. For humanity."
"Are you sure, Papa?" Chloe finally spoke.
"…Yes." He answered, though the hesitation in his voice betrayed him.
"But what about them?" she pressed.
"What about their lives?"
Her eyes locked onto his, searching for any shred of conviction.
"It's… a small price," he said, looking away. "A small price to pay for humanity's paradise."
"And what is the price of a soul?" She whispered, her voice low and sharp.
This time, her father said nothing.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A sudden knock broke the silence.
"What is it?" He called out.
"Arch-seer… There's a doll in the teleportation circle." Came a panicked voice from beyond the door.
"A familiar?" Arch-seer muttered. "No…that's impossible. Then…a puppeteer?"
"Are there others with it?" Chloe asked, her tone sharpening.
"Destroy it. Quickly," the Arch-Seer commanded, his voice sharp and cold.
"Arch-Seer…" a voice called nervously from behind the door. "We tried, but it keeps repairing itself. We can't stop it."
"It isn't returning to its owner!?" Shock cracked through the Arch-Seer's composure.
"Capture it. Now."
"It's too late," Chloe said, stepping into the flickering lamplight, her tone calm and cutting. "Grandmaster Aliza might've already tracked us down."
The Arch-Seer's eyes narrowed. He strode to the door and yanked it open. Two cultists stood beyond, pale and tense.
"Call everyone," He ordered. "We are going to summon Rumina, tonight."
"What?" Chloe snapped. "Tonight? We're not ready!"
He turned to her slowly, his expression unreadable.
"My dear…" He said, voice dripping with ritual authority, "release the Skeleton Fisherman."
Chloe flinched, just slightly. Then nodded, hesitantly.
The cultists' hideout stirred with panic and unrest.
High above the chaos, Aliza stood atop a makeshift stage. Mana glowed around her throat and mouth in a radiant blue hue, enhancing her voice like thunder through silence.
"Listen, all of you." She began, voice echoing like a call from the heavens. "From the sky above to the depths of hell, I call upon you."
She raised her right hand, clenched tightly, trembling with purpose.
"Today, I ask, not as a Grandmaster, but as one of you. Gather your courage. Steel your arms. Strengthen your hearts."
Her eyes scanned the crowd.
Some burned with fury. Others wept in silence. Many trembled. But one thing bound them all together.
A will to save the kidnapped. A humanity that refused to die.
"Let them hide behind the innocent. Let them whisper to their false gods."
"But we, we carry the true power."
"Not their magic. Not their lies. Our will."
She raised her hand high.
"Come. March with me!"
Her voice cracked like fire.
"To save the people of DORJA!"
"FOR DORJA!!" the crowd roared back, like a wave of fury and hope.
Even the fearful, even the grieving, they shouted.
Aliza stepped down from the stage, her eyes finding Grathe.
"Grathe." She said quietly, her gaze lingering with weight.
"Yes, Grandmaster?" He asked.
"I want you stationed at the rear end of the sewer." She commanded.
He hesitated. "Wouldn't it be better if I go with you?"
She shook her head. "So-Wong and I will charge forward. I need you to catch anyone trying to flee. No one escapes."
There was a pause.
"Is there anything else you want to ask?" she added softly.
Grathe's brow furrowed. "Where is Kael? I haven't seen him…"
Aliza's expression faltered, just a little.
"I'm sorry… I should have told you sooner. He's in the hospital. He was injured during the last skirmish."
Her tone cracked, just slightly.
"I don't know if he has regained consciousness or not." She added.
"I'll go check on him." Grathe said.
"Do it quickly. We don't have much time," Aliza muttered.
Grathe rushed toward the hospital as Aliza turned to ready the soldiers. Her gaze soon landed on So-Wong.
"So-Wong." she called, her voice edged with a hint of suspicion. "I've been curious."
She stepped closer.
"Why are you so eager to fight the cult?"
"They killed my father," So-Wong replied, bitterness thick in her voice. "So I want to return the favor."
Aliza narrowed her eyes. "Why did they target him?"
"They tried to recruit him..." So-Wong hesitated. "But he refused."
Aliza looked at So-Wong, her gaze narrowing.
"I assume... there's more to the story." She said quietly.
"You've got a sharp eye," So-Wong replied, a faint smile ghosting her lips. "Yes, you're right. My father died protecting an Archdemon tomb."
Aliza's eyes widened. "Skeleton Fisherman..."
"Yes. And I heard you defeated it." So-Wong added, a note of doubt creeping into her voice.
"It was a fake." A calm voice cut in.
Both turned. It was Ifa.
"Created by Chloe," She said, holding up a crumpled list. "Here, these are the items she purchased."
"Mana stones..." So-Wong muttered, snatching the list from her hands.
"It seems her visit to Hydrgateia wasn't just for supplies," Ifa said, arms crossed, voice sharpening. "She bought mana stones... and used the trip to ambush soldiers."
"Wait," Aliza suddenly said, a chill slipping into her tone. "Something doesn't add up."
"What is it?" Ifa asked, the tension catching in her throat.
So-Wong turned to Aliza, thoughtful. "If Chloe's working with the cult, then. Why buy mana stones at all? Wouldn't the cult just supply them?"
Ifa's breath caught. "That means…"
"There's something else going on." Aliza finished her words, voice low and troubled.
"But still... there is a chance she used the mana stones to create the Skeleton Fisherman." Aliza added.
So-Wong and Ifa leaned in, silent but alert.
Aliza raised one finger. "First and least likely, the cult didn't have mana stones."
"Because of funding issues?" Ifa asked.
"Possibly. But... I doubt it," Aliza muttered.
She raised another finger. "Second, and what I hope is true."
"Maybe this was a test. A loyalty trial, to see if Chloe was willing to kill for them."
Her face darkened, the edge of sorrow showing in her eyes.
"And third..." Aliza hesitated, her voice dropping. "The most likely reason of all... is that we simply don't know."
A long silence hung between them.
"We don't know the cult's name. We don't know their true objective. Which means...we have no idea why she needed those stones."
While the others talked, Grathe finally arrived at the hospital.
Kael lay on a bed, pale and still. His body was wrapped in bandages, one arm was gone.
"Captain…" Kael muttered, trying to sit up.
"You should rest," Grathe said gently, easing him back down.
"What happened?" He asked softly.
"It was… Chloe," Kael whispered, trembling. "She ambushed us… with monsters... and…"
His voice broke, the words caught in his throat.
"What is it?" Grathe asked, placing a calming hand on Kael's chest.
Kael took a shaky breath.
"Skeleton Fisherman…"
Grathe froze. A bead of sweat traced down his temple.
"I only saw its hook…" Kael continued, voice cracking. "It was dragging our knights... away."
Tears spilled from his eyes as he broke down.
"I'm sorry… I was useless…"
"You did everything you could," Grathe said firmly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll take it from here."
He stood and turned to the door. Just before stepping out, he looked back over his shoulder.
"Rest well, Kael," he said, voice steady but warm.
Then he stepped out and quietly closed the door behind him.
Kael lay motionless on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above.
He let out a heavy sigh, the weight of guilt pressing on his chest.
Slowly, he sat up. His legs trembled beneath him as he rose, body still weak, but his eyes burned with determination.
Wobbling slightly, he steadied himself.
And then… he began to walk.
Meanwhile, deep within the cult's hideout…
Men, women, and children stood shoulder to shoulder. Lined up like cattle.
Fear clung to them like smoke. Some clutched each other. Others wept silently.
The air was heavy with despair, the only sound a chorus of soft sobs and shuffling feet.
While deep within the shadows of the compound, Liliya's body was being slowly lowered into a furnace.
Two cultists operated the levers, silent and methodical.
Liliya screamed, again and again, yet no sound ever escaped his lips.
No one heard it.
Above, Chloe stood at the edge of a walkway, watching the line of civilians being herded below.
Their eyes were hollow, their fate a mystery even to them.
Her expression was distant, yet beneath it...a flicker of sadness.
Her hand clenched into a fist.
A soft voice broke the silence.
"Is everything okay?" A man asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
Chloe didn't look at him.
Instead, she whispered. "Why…"
Then she turned her gaze upward, her eyes sharp, almost accusing.
"Why don't you feel anything for them?" She asked, nodding toward the crowd.
The man hesitated. Just for a moment.
"Once it's over…" He murmured, his voice uncertain, "everything will be fine."
"Arch-Seer…" A man whispered from behind.
"What is it?" the Arch-Seer replied without turning.
"One hundred cavalry, and three hundred foot soldiers; knights, mages, and archers," The cultist reported.
"They're charging toward us."
The Arch-Seer closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"Like lambs to the slaughter," he murmured, before glancing down at Chloe.
"You know what to do… don't you?"
"Of course, Arch-Seer…" Chloe replied softly, her voice distant, drifting toward despair.
Then she turned and walked away.
From the shadows, her father reached out instinctively.
He wanted to call her name, to stop her… but the words died in his throat.
He lowered his trembling hand.
"Arch-Seer…" he whispered to himself.
It was the first time… she hadn't called him papa.
Above ground, the rhythmic pounding of hooves and footsteps echoed through the shadowy forest.
Aliza and So-Wong led the charge, riding side by side at the front of the formation.
Every so often, Aliza stole a glance at her.
For the twelfth time.
So-Wong finally turned, catching her in the act.
"Still don't trust me?" She asked, voice calm but pointed.
Aliza hesitated, her expression tightening.
"It's… hard for me to trust," She admitted. "Not after being betrayed by someone I saw as family."
Her voice wavered with a mixture of sadness… and quiet fury.
Then.
"Help…" A voice whimpered from deep within the forest.
Another echoed, distant and trembling. "Mama… Papa…"
Then a third voice. And a fourth. A chorus of cries, all from different directions.
Everyone came to a halt.
The air turned cold. The forest, still.
The cries kept coming. Layered, unnatural, too perfect.
Too familiar.
"Ahhh—!" A scream erupted from the rear.
A man was yanked into the sky.
A massive bird, its feathers pitch black, its eyes gleaming, it was a Swarro.
The monster bird of voices.
More screams followed.
From the depths of the forest, they came.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Swarros burst forth, wings slicing through the air like blades, their screeches echoing the cries of children and loved ones.
The ambush had begun.
"Eyes of flame…" Aliza whispered, her voice steady, burning with resolve.
Hundreds of tiny flames flickered into existence, swirling around her like a living halo.
"Cast your judgment upon this world." She intoned, raising her hand skyward.
In an instant, the flames shot forth, seeking and locking onto a Swarros with terrifying precision.
The sky lit up with bursts of fire, feathers, and shrieks as the inferno rained down from above.
"Call of the wind." A soft feminine voice whispered, seemingly from nowhere.
Ting. Ting. Ting.
A faint, sorrowful bell began to chime in the air.
"Guide the lost…" The voice murmured again, drifting like mist through the trees.
Footsteps began to echo all around Aliza and the soldiers, but no one could see the source.
"As you guided the forgotten soul." The voice continued, this time laced with deep, aching sadness.
Then came the sound of weeping.
Not just one cry.
Hundreds.
Aliza's heart raced as she looked up.
"Chloe!" She shouted.
High above them, Chloe floated in midair, wind spiraling around her like a tempest made of silk.
Her cloak rippled. Her eyes were distant. Hollow.
"I cast upon this world…" She declared, her voice carried by the wind.
"Hum of Gentle Wind."
In an instant, a dome of swirling air encased Aliza and her entire force.
They had no time to react.
The bubble began to rise.
Faster.
Higher.
Soldiers screamed as they were lifted into the sky, four hundred meters and climbing.
The forest below shrank into nothing.
And Chloe watched in silence…as if mourning them already.
"Why?!" Aliza screamed, her voice echoing through the rising wind. "Why are you doing this?!"
She stared up at Chloe, eyes burning with desperation…and betrayal.
For a moment, Chloe said nothing.
Then.
"I'm sorry…"
It was barely a whisper.
The only thing she could manage.
And yet… it cut deeper than any blade.