After the Abduction of Bishop Melia Bentley—
A frantic priest from the Northern Fork branch of the Church of the Luminous Moon burst into Archbishop Agnes's chambers, his voice echoing down the stone halls.
"Archbishop Agnes! Archbishop Agnes!"
The elderly woman, cloaked in her ceremonial robes, frowned as the priest's shout nearly rang through the entire main cathedral. With evident displeasure, she responded sternly, "What is it, Father Taylor? What has happened?"
"M-My apologies, Your Grace, but the news is urgent… Bishop Melia has been abducted—by mercenaries." He recounted everything he had heard from the Bentley household's report.
"What?!" the Archbishop gasped. "I must go to my daughter at once. Hold the situation here!"
Without delay, she made her way to the Bentley estate.
The Bentley family resided in western Rosenthal, in a city adjacent to Northern Fork—close enough to be reached within hours. Upon arrival, Archbishop Agnes entered without hesitation, taking in the heavy atmosphere that hung over the estate like a storm cloud.
She found only the family's servants, their faces drawn with sorrow. Moments later, William Bentley appeared before her.
"Greetings, Grandmother," he said respectfully.
Relieved to see her grandson unharmed, yet troubled by a looming question, the Archbishop asked, "Thank the gods you are safe… but where are Demian and Julia?"
"D-Demian… he flew after Mother," Julia replied, her voice trembling with fear. "He followed them into the Pelion Forest."
"What?!" Agnes cried, her voice trembling with fury. "Why did no one stop him?! That forest, though under the protection of Aetherthorn Academy, is far from safe! The beasts there are not all tamed!"
"We couldn't stop him," Wiliam said, shaken. "There was a terrifying power radiating from him. Then—he just spread his wings and soared off… faster than any of us could react."
Archbishop Agnes grew still. She herself had witnessed Demian fail to receive the blessing of the Moon Goddess Selene. She had even questioned the High Pontiff why her grandson had been rejected, but the pontiff had only shaken his head—Selene had offered no explanation.
And yet… now Demian possessed mystic power?
All of it bewildered her, compounding the storm of misfortunes that had suddenly engulfed her family.
Lifting her gaze to the heavens, she whispered with deep sorrow, "Oh, great Goddess Selene… what sins have I committed, that I should be burdened with such calamity? Have mercy upon me."
For the next two weeks, they searched tirelessly for Melia and Demian. But not a single trace was found.
---
In the dead of night, deep within a hut in Pelion Forest—
Demian, clutching a tome authored by the old man Leonard, sat hunched in candlelight. The book contained extensive research on the foundations of mystic power—knowledge that mesmerized him.
When life first came into this world, every living being was born with a mystic core—an essence of life capable of manifesting all things. Yet this core was sealed, constrained by a binding that only the power of the gods could release. That power is faith—a mutual connection forged between deity and worshiper.
Through belief comes sacrifice, and through sacrifice comes loyalty. It is said that perhaps the gods themselves were once mortals who earned the trust of others, ascended by devotion, and became transcendent.
Though yet unproven, this is my first thesis. The conclusion: to unlock the seals upon one's core, one must offer and receive faith. Each seal represents a covenant—an offering of trust.
The first seal demands one believer. The second, two. And with each successive seal, more followers must believe—and more must give of themselves. In time, the one they believe in shall gain divinity and bestow blessings.
Demian was in awe. Old Leonard was meticulous, disciplined—a true scholar, more deserving than anyone to be Dean of Aetherthorn Academy.
But why had he left?
"Have you finished reading it?" a voice asked from behind him.
"Um! It's incredible. But… Master Leonard, why did you leave Aetherthorn Academy?" Demian asked, curiosity burning within him.
"My research was deemed heresy. They called me mad for studying the impossible," Leonard answered with a wry chuckle. "So I left—to pursue my work here, in peace."
"Uhmm, but Old Man—"
"Enough of 'Old Man'," Leonard interrupted. "Since you've stolen my knowledge, you'll have to become my student!"
Delighted, Demian bowed slightly. "Yes, Teacher! This devoted student will learn all that you offer!"
"Haha! Good lad," said Samuel Leonardo with satisfaction. "At last—someone who respects the art of true research."
He pulled out a thick, weathered volume and placed it in Demian's hands. "These are all my works on mysticism. Study them well."
Just as Demian reached for the tome—
BOOM!
A deafening explosion shattered the night. A meteor, burning with celestial fire, crashed into the hut.
"—Sun Protection Barrier!"
A golden shield flared into existence, shielding both Leonard and Demian from the searing inferno. The hut was consumed by flames.
Leonard, now encased in armor of blazing flame—emblem of the Fourth Evolution Phase of the Blazing Sun Church: the Sunfire Knight—
The sky dimmed without warning.
As if the heavens themselves were repainted in hues of ash and sorrow, wind began to stir—unnatural, swirling, sharp. The scent of metal and dust filled the air, carried through the crumbling stones of the old tower where they stood.
"Demian… Run."
Leonard's voice was hoarse, yet resolute. It wasn't a suggestion—it was the voice of a man who knew time had turned against them.
Demian froze.
"Run? Why? What's happening, Master?"
His hands trembled. His feet refused to move. His heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out everything else.
Leonard didn't answer at once. He turned, eyes sharp but exhausted. His aged hands, now trembling, extended toward Demian three leather-bound tomes, each glowing faintly with ancient runes etched into the cover.
"Take these. It contains the details of the core mystery of mysticism within your body, research on the Nine Major Churches and their divine mystical characteristics, and… my research into a visionary project—the fusion of mystic rune power and technology," he whispered.
Demian clutched the books with hesitant hands.
He was still shaking—not from cold, but from the storm of dread that gathered around them.
And then it happened.
A crack appeared across the sky.
Not lightning. Not magic as he knew it. This was something else—the world itself had split open. From the fracture spilled a formless blackness—a void, sucking in wind, light, and even sound.
The wind was being pulled upward now, devoured by the rift above. The earth trembled beneath their feet, leaves and dust caught in a growing spiral. The very air thickened. An overwhelming energy—not of this world—descended, cloaking both Demian and Leonard in its crushing pressure.
Demian staggered back, knees buckling.
"Is that… divine power?" he whispered, unwilling to believe it.
Leonard gripped his shoulder firmly.
"Listen to me. No matter what happens, do not open the third book until you Go to Aetherthorn. There, you must become an evolution without a god. The only one who can uncover the truth from within the system."
Demian swallowed hard. He held the books to his chest as if clutching his life itself.
"I don't understand…" he murmured.
"You don't need to." Leonard gave him a weary smile, eyes now glowing faint gold. "You only need to survive."
The tear in the sky pulsed, and from it descended a spear of black light, crashing into the earth not far from where they stood. The ground split open. The wind screamed.
And in an instant—everything turned white.
And then—a voice echoed from the skies above, cold and thunderous.
"No one escapes from here. "—
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