The wind carried a haunting chill.
Lucian stepped through the cursed fog, his boots crushing blackened leaves as twisted trees loomed like dying giants. Just then, the mist parted.
A small girl stood atop a broken statue, cloaked in shadows.
Her twin-tail hair burned red in the blood-moon light. She wore a sleek black assassin's garb and a skeletal mask etched with glowing runes.
"You finally came," she said, voice delicate but emotionless.
Lucian's grip tightened. "Who are you?"
She removed the mask.
A young face, too young to carry such sorrow. "My name is Seraphine. I'm the daughter of the Demon King."
Lucian froze. But she didn't stop. She told him everything.
How her father—once a kind man—was a merchant who stood against the corruption of the Church of Day. How he exposed their secret auctions, their forbidden rituals, and in return, they burned everything he loved—his wife, his friends, and even tried to kill Seraphine.
And how he found a forbidden scroll… and turned into something monstrous.
"You have to save this world. And rescue Xeran. Before it's too late."