Celestia stepped outside the hotel, the door creaking behind her as she emerged into the ruined streets.
The air was thick with the scent of blood, smoke, and death. The ground beneath her boots was slick with crimson, bodies strewn across the cobblestone like discarded rags. From the shadows, a pack of black wolves materialized. Their eyes burned a deep, hellish red, their fur shifting like a living void, tendrils of unnatural darkness curling off their bodies. Their claws scraped against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone, their breath fogging the air with an eerie chill.
Celestia exhaled slowly, tilting her head.
"…I didn't want to fight you all."
Her voice was almost… disappointed.
The wolves snarled in response, muscles tensing, fangs bared. They didn't care about words.
They only cared about the hunt.
Celestia let out a slow, measured breath, her grip on her rapier tightening.
Then—she moved.
The moment she activated [Eclipse Slashes], a violent, crushing force coiled around her blade, black and white energy spiraled together. Forming razor-thin crescents of destruction. The sheer pressure distorted the air, sending cracks of energy rippling outward.
Then, she moved.
Celestia surged forward, she glided through the battlefield like a phantom. Her form blurred, flickering between shadows, a streak of devastation slicing through the entire pack.
She exhaled, her rapier sliding back into its sheath with a soft click.
The wolves froze mid-motion.
A single, eerie second of silence stretched between them—and then it unraveled.
A multitude of slashes carved across their bodies, a thousand cuts in the span of an instant. The very energy clinging to her blade detonated violently—a silent explosion of shearing force and raw entropy.
Their flesh disintegrated.
Their bones collapsed into dust.
Their very existence was erased, leaving behind only a mist of blackened blood drifting in the cold air.
Celestia didn't spare a glance.
She simply stepped forward, the remnants of her foes falling like ash in her wake.
She moved swiftly, her footsteps echoing against the deserted streets. The kingdom was quiet now—eerily so. The only sound was the distant crackle of fire, the wind whispering through the ruins of what was once an elven stronghold.
Minutes passed.
Then—at the castle gates, she stopped.
A presence pressed against her senses.
Someone was near. Following her.
Celestia's grip on her rapier tightened, her body shifting instinctively into a stance—until the presence spoke.
"Tio caught me up... These elves were trying to kill you. Criminals. All of them."
The voice was calm, Cold, and certain.
Celestia turned.
Standing in the darkness, Rosaline.
Her blade was already unsheathed, its edge wreathed in furious, living flames. The fire didn't just burn—it consumed the very air around it, twisting and roaring, eating away at the void itself.
Her irises—once a violet—had shifted to an eerie orange-red, glowing like molten embers in the suffocating darkness.
Celestia tilted her head, a smirk forming.
The night was far from over.
And now she wasn't alone.
They burst through the castle doors, the heavy wood splintering from the sheer force of their entrance.
And behind them—the abyss followed.
A pack of black wolves surged forward, their eyes burning like molten embers, their bodies rippling with shadow. But they did not lunge at Celestia. They did not sink their fangs into Rosaline.
They had another prey in mind.
The moment they entered the castle, they turned their fury upon the elves within.
A maid barely had time to scream before a pair of jaws clamped down on her throat, tearing it away in a single, brutal rip. Her lifeless body collapsed to the floor, convulsing as blood pooled around her twitching fingers.
An elven knight rushed forward, blade drawn—only to be dragged to the ground by three wolves. His armor crumpled like paper beneath their weight, his panicked shrieks echoing down the grand halls. Claws sank into his stomach, tearing him apart inch by inch.
The castle became a mausoleum of agony.
Every servant. Every guard. Every noble.
None were spared.
Blood splashed against the once-pristine marble, walls now painted with streaks of crimson as bodies were torn, devoured, shredded like mere livestock.
More wolves manifested within the castle, stepping from the shadows, their forms twisting between solid and ethereal, moving like phantoms through the carnage.
They did not attack Celestia and Rosaline.
Instead, they moved around them, from every angle, their glowing eyes watching.
They were protecting the two of them.
Celestia exhaled softly, her lips curling.
"…How interesting."
The wolves stormed the staircases, their blackened claws tearing through wood and stone as they rushed into every chamber.
Screams erupted—then choked into silence.
Rooms became slaughterhouses.
Men, women, children, knights, servants—none were spared.
A desperate maid crashed through a window, trying to escape, but before she even hit the ground, a wolf leaped after her, clamping its fangs around her throat midair. The two figures plummeted together, disappearing into the darkness below.
A guard dropped his weapon, trembling, his hands raised in surrender. The wolves did not hesitate. They pounced, ripping into his flesh, dragging him across the marble as his bones cracked beneath their jaws.
All life within these walls was being erased.
Celestia and Rosaline walked through the halls, stepping over ruined bodies, the sound of crunching bones and dying gasps echoing behind them.
Celestia let out a soft, almost childlike chuckle, resting her bloodied rapier against her shoulder.
Rosaline turned to her, her eyes flickering with something unreadable—but she said nothing.
The two approached a massive door.
Three of the wolves circled them, growling low before lunging at the door, their claws raking deep gashes into the wood.
The door splintered.
Then—it collapsed, the heavy wood slamming onto the marble floor with a deafening crash.
Beyond it, the throne room.
And at its center, seated upon his throne, was the King.
His face was unmoving, cold, expressionless.
The wolves snarled, their fangs dripping with fresh blood as they stepped forward, surrounding Celestia and Rosaline once more.
The King exhaled softly, rising to his feet.
"You've caused me some problems," he muttered, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather.
With one hand, he lifted a massive greatsword from the ground beside him, the blade so heavy it cracked the marble beneath it.
The air shifted.
Celestia tilted her head, her smirk deepening.
"I assume you're ready for death?" The King asked, taking a step forward.
The wolves lunged.
One sank its fangs into his arm, tearing through flesh and bone, its teeth crunching down until—
Rip.
The King's hand was torn clean off.
Blood gushed, spraying across the throne room.
He barely reacted. Instead, he lifted his greatsword in his remaining hand—And swung.
The massive blade cleaved through the wolf's body in a single, brutal arc.
Flesh, bone, and shadow exploded apart, the wolf's body shattered into nothing.
As its remains dissipated into the void, the King rolled his shoulders.
The bleeding stopped.
Celestia's eyes narrowed slightly.
Even after losing a hand, he stood there, not even bothered.
The moment Celestia stepped forward, the Codex pulsed in her palm.
The throne room collapsed into nothingness.
A perfect, consuming darkness swallowed them whole.
No moonlight. No flickering flames.
Not even the gleam of steel.
Only the sound of their breaths.
And the deep, rhythmic steps of the King.
Celestia lunged first, her rapier cutting forward in a perfect, lethal arc. The blade screamed through the void, a gust of wind whipping alongside it—
CLANG.
A sudden, merciless force slammed into her weapon, nearly knocking it from her grasp.
Her feet slid back, her heels grinding against the marble.
Impossible.
He had parried her. He could see within the pitch darkness.
Fire erupted from Rosaline's sword, a pillar of crimson light trying to cut through the void. The moment her blade sliced downward, the King's greatsword roared to life, meeting her strike head-on.
BOOM.
A concussive shockwave rattled the entire room, sending cracks through the unseen walls.
Rosaline gritted her teeth—her flames flickered.
A sharp impact slammed into her ribs, the wind ripped from her lungs. She didn't even see the hit—only felt her body get launched through the dark.
She hit the ground hard, rolling across the unseen floor.
The King's voice rumbled through the void.
"You think darkness will grant you the advantage?"
Celestia barely had a second to process his words before he was upon her.
She jumped over a slash, the air above her head split apart as his sword came crashing down, carving through the ground she had stood on seconds ago.
His foot planted into her stomach, sending her flying.
She twisted midair, stabbing her rapier into the ground to stop herself.
She skidded to a stop, boots scraping across the darkness.
Her heart pounded.
The only sound was his slow, measured breathing.
He's keeping up with us both? she thought, gripping her weapon tighter.
The throne room trembled as Celestia's mana erupted into a violent crimson storm.
Her rapier glowed blood-red, pulsing with raw destruction.
The darkness itself recoiled as she surged forward, her body a streak of red and black.
[Eclipse Slashes].
Celestia slithered past the King, her rapier cutting through him like a whisper of death.
The King did not falter.
Even as deep slashes tore through his body, even as his blood spilled onto the broken marble floor, he remained standing.
He moved.
His greatsword rose, black steel shrieking through the abyss.
Celestia had only a heartbeat to react.
She twisted, planting a foot against the wall—
Then propelled herself downward.
A blur of crimson and silver as she fell upon him, her blade aiming for his throat—
CLANG.
The King blocked.
His sword met her rapier in a clash of immense force.
Shockwaves erupted, shattering what remained of the throne room.
[Tempest Arts]
The wind roared.
Her rapier pulsed with raw power, its form shifting, growing heavier—denser.
Celestia pushed forward.
The King skidded back, feet carving deep trenches into the shattered ground.
Then—she struck.
Her right foot shot up, a brutal kick slamming into his ribs. A sickening crack.
The King's massive body was sent flying, colliding with a stone pillar—which instantly crumbled to dust.
Rosaline didn't hesitate.
The fire in her veins ignited.
She surged forward, her blade a roaring inferno, the heat warping the air.
She swung. A violent, fiery arc tore through the darkness—His arm severed, the wound cauterized instantly by the sheer heat.
His remaining hand gripped his sword. The ground cracked beneath him.
As the King steadied himself, the air around them shifted.
A deep, guttural groan resonated through the throne room.
The Codex of Distortion rose from the ground, its ancient cover glowing with a haunting crimson light. The pages flipped violently, ink bleeding through the air like tendrils of living darkness.
The King gritted his teeth, sensing something far worse than just fire or steel.
Blackened chains of void and blood erupted from the Codex, screeching like banshees as they surged toward the King.
The King slashed with his greatsword, trying to sever them—but the moment his blade touched them, the chains shifted, multiplying.
They wrapped around his arms, his legs, and his throat.
The ground split beneath him as the chains pulled tighter, crushing his ribs, forcing his spine to bend unnaturally.
His free hand clawed at his throat, struggling to breathe.
The moment the chains tightened—the howling began.
From the blackened abyss, seven packs of wolves emerged.
Eyes glowing red. Fangs dripping with blood.
Their growls echoed through the ruined throne room, shaking the foundation of the castle slightly.
The wolves charged. A flood of black fur and crimson eyes, their claws scraping against the marble, their jaws snapping with the promise of absolute carnage.
One wolf lunged, its massive form colliding with the King's chest, jaws locking onto his shoulder.
Another sank its teeth into his thigh.
A third clamped down on his wrist—his sword-hand—piercing straight through muscle and bone.
He roared in rage, trying to swing his blade, but—the chains tightened.
His ribs cracked. Blood gushed from the wounds. The wolves ripped, tore, and devoured. Flesh was stripped from his body in chunks.
Celestia and Rosaline locked eyes through the darkness.
Rosaline couldn't see Celestia—not really. The void still clung to the world like a living thing, its suffocating presence lingering even as the Codex faded from sight.
But she felt her.
A silent understanding passed between them.
They turned as one, bolting through the shattered castle halls.
Their boots slammed against the bloodstained marble. The air was thick with the lingering scent of burnt flesh and the distant, agonized cries of the few elves left behind. The wolves had finished their hunt—only the echoes of their growls remained.
Then, as if responding to their departure—the void began to retreat.
The sun, beginning to pierce through the consuming blackness.
The Codex vanished.
Rosaline squinted, and at last—she saw it.
Celestia's outline came into view.
Her pure white hair, once corrupted by the Codex's power, began to shift back from matte black to its original pure white.
The deep crimson in her eyes softened, morphing into a familiar emerald green—as if none of it had happened.
As if she had never bathed in their blood.
The scent of salt and the sea greeted them before the sight of the docks came into view.
Tio stood at the helm, already prepared.
"COME ON!" he shouted, waving frantically.
The ship creaked and groaned as the wind—almost unnaturally timed—filled its sails.
Celestia and Rosaline didn't slow down.
They leaped onto the ship, their feet barely touching the wooden deck before Tio spun the wheel, guiding the vessel into the open waters.
The castle, now a crumbling ruin, loomed in the distance.
The sunlight finally broke free from the void, casting its golden glare over the sea.
High above, resting lazily in the crow's nest, the medic smirked.
He stretched, hands behind his head, before muttering, "What a mess."
He closed his eyes, and laughed.
Celestia exhaled, feeling the warmth of the sun return to her skin.
Then—
A message flashed before her eyes.
━━━『 Villainous System 』━━━
New Major Pathway Quest Completed
Title:Bring Genocide to the Elves.
Task:Kill at least 70% of the elven population.
Rewards:+67 Levels
+24 Levels for [Tempest Arts]
+18 Fear Immunity
+20 Levels for [Dragon's Gaze]
Enchanted weapon forged from the skin of Serakaris
Element: Ice
Element: Blood
Element: Flames
EXP: 8,593
Bounty:30 Gold
Fear Rating:+990
Celestia stared at the text. A cold wind brushed against her cheek.
She closed her eyes—exhaling slowly.
The system appeared again.
━━━『 Villainous System 』━━━
Name: Celestia Solara
Age: 19
Elements: Dragon-Tempest, Water, Blood, Ice, Flames
Level: 70
EXP: 8,593/12,340
Bounty: 30 Gold
Fear Rating: 1,000
Skills:
[Manipulation] – Level 10
[Tempest Arts] – Level 30
[Dragon's Gaze] – Level 25
[Blossom's Elegance] – Level 1
[Blossom's Breath] – Level 2
[Eclipse Slashes] - Level 30
[Passives]
Fear Immunity | Active