1140 A.D.
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A Bleeding Eclipse
A sea of swords rose all around—stuck point-first in the earth, their blades glinting dully beneath a sullen sky. In the center, a lone figure stood, drenched in blood. His long black hair whipped in the wind as a shadow crept outward from his body, swallowing everything in its path. Above him, the air rippled, and thousands of crows and eagles descended like a living storm.
Silence fell. Then a jagged bolt of lightning split the sky. In that flash, the birds halted mid-flight, wings outstretched—only to be drawn inexorably into the stranger's chest, vanishing with a sickening rasp. As the final bird disappeared, one low, hollow voice echoed from the darkness itself:
> "The time has come."
---
Nestled deep within the cradle of an ancient forest, the village of Eirenhollow slumbered beneath a silver-streaked sky. Its timber-framed houses, with steep gabled roofs and warm amber windows, clustered like loyal sentinels along narrow, winding paths. Cobblestone roads curved through the heart of the settlement, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps—farmers, merchants, children, and elders who had passed stories down like heirlooms.
The village breathed with life, even in the quiet of evening. Lanterns glowed like fireflies, casting soft halos across mossy walls and ivy-clad doors. Laughing voices drifted from taverns, where hearths crackled and spilled the scent of roast game and spiced mead into the cool night air. In the town square, minstrels played for clusters of folk, and peddlers peddled odd trinkets and herbs under tents stitched with runes.
To the north, shadowed beneath the ever-whispering trees of the Ebonwood, rose a towering stone keep. Its spires pierced the clouds, and its silhouette loomed like a forgotten guardian. The castle—known only as Highthrone—watched silently, regal and withdrawn, as though it belonged more to myth than to men.
A tall clocktower stood at the village center, its bell tolling solemnly on the hour. Around it spread a sense of rhythm and order, but also mystery. For though Eirenhollow was peaceful, it was not without secrets. Whispers told of hidden crypts beneath the chapel, of witches in the western glade, and of lights that moved in the forest when no one should be awake.
And yet, for all its lore and lingering shadows, the village pulsed with warmth—resilient and unyielding, a haven amidst the darkened world beyond.
But.....After two days ....no one can predict it that Eirenhollow was destroyed by a single man Who appeared in black cloth , insan aura and killed one of the 12th Captain of the Zhou Dynasty ..
Two Days Later …
A Ruined Eirenhollow Keep (Deep in the Forest)
"No… this can't be happening. No one could have such power—no one!"
A soldier stumbled backward through the carnage: smashed shields, shattered banners, corpses strewn everywhere. He clutched his helmet to his chest, eyes wide with terror.
"Everything's over. Everything is lost… he came. He came…"
King Xia Shoung of Zhou's throne-city felt the tremors of that power even from miles away. When the first scouts reached him, the king rose in fury:
> "Who dares strike at Zhou's Kingdom? Where are the other Captain? Are they blind, or do they not tremble before me?!"
With a wave of his hand, a crackling barrier sprang up around the entire realm—impenetrable, like a field of ripples frozen in space.
> "No one may enter… no one may leave."
His edict echoed through the royal halls:
> "Captain Yamazaki, Captain Wittelsbach, Captain Windsor— and vice-captains, and every soldier under your banner—ride at once. Crush whoever attacked Eirenhollow , and restore honor to our allies!"
Within hours, Judas and the other Huntsmen-Captains marshaled their forces. Judas himself spurred straight toward Eirenhollow's ruins, while the others fanned out to scour the countryside. The Wittelsbach captain lingered behind—resting his weary feet amid the smoking stones of Grimaldi Keep—while Yamazaki's captain disappeared into the forest's shadow.
When Judas finally reached the keep, it was a graveyard: walls splintered, towers collapsed, and smoke still curled from smoldering rooms. Not a living creature stirred—no birds, no animals, no soldiers. Hellish clouds churned overhead, darker than the void.
Then something streaked across the sky: neither man nor beast nor simple demon. It fell like a comet, trailing black smoke, its shape impossible to discern. As it landed, crows and eagles swarmed again, blotting out the sun, and dense fog coiled around the ruined battlements.
A mocking voice issued from the shadows:
> "Ha ha ha ha ha… So you've come, House Windsor. Yet who guards your King now? Does he truly believe that because his ancestor pierced a devil, he can do the same?"
From within the roiling darkness, the Windsor captain stepped forward—eyes aflame with defiance.
> "Worry not for my keep. Tonight, the only question is: Who among you will survive to tell the tale?"
---
Current Time: 2 Years Earlier (1138 A.D.)
The Grand Hall of Magicka buzzed with chatter and anticipation. Aspirants from across the land had gathered here, each hoping to secure a place among the Orthodox—the realm's most prestigious sect.
> Who will triumph? Who will be blessed? And who will falter, left empty-handed?
Soon enough, the clarion call echoed through the arches:
> "THE ENTRANCE EXAM BEGINS!"
At precisely 12:01:03 p.m., the gate to the Forest of Trials creaked open. More than fifty parties—or lone challengers—streamed out into the undergrowth. Some formed small packs; others strode off alone, confident in their skills.
In a glade just inside, a scarlet-haired youth in royal finery decapitated twenty-six D-rank beasts in as many seconds, his points tally leaping skyward. A gasp of admiration rippled through the onlookers before they all dashed deeper into the woods.
---
Northeast Forest Clearing
Yohan found himself suddenly surrounded by a party of eight hunters—each eager to earn spoils by dispatching weaker participants. They wore jeering grins.
One stepped forward, ivory blade raised:
> "If you kill another examinee, you earn five points—plus all the points he's already earned."
He sneered, then unleashed: "The Morvious Ice Blade!"
A storm of razor-sharp ice shards darted toward Yohan. He twisted aside, every hair on his neck prickling.
> "There was no rule allowing civilian-on-civilian murder—at least not until after the Second Devil Attack," he retorted.
The assailant smirked.
> "Not from the start—true enough. After the Second Devil Attack, though, King Honor revised the code. Now you can slay any unshielded prize."
With a guttural cry, the ice shards coalesced into a massive drake: "Dragon Roar!" The great beast lunged at Yohan, fangs bared. Yohan countered with a ferocious strike of his own—an unnamed technique that shattered the ice dragon's form, sending it crashing. Yet the creature's frozen bulk slammed into Yohan, sending him skidding across the forest floor.--
12:30 p.m.
A distant roar of battle rang out—and over the crest of a hill strode a man with long black hair, his crimson sword carving a path through dozens of students. Blood spattered his path as he kicked aside fallen bodies without remorse.
"How pathetic," he growled. "They think they can pass this exam…"
Nearby, a royal-blooded youth in Yamazaki colors—Kitme—laughed, his lean frame glinting in the dappled sunlight. At barely twenty, he already bore the swagger of nobility: long ebony hair tied back, lean muscles beneath fine silks.
Back to Yohan's Clearing
Yohan lay sprawled, bruised and bleeding from the ice drake's impact. Around him, the eight hunters closed in—drawn by the blood.
A red-haired man, Bartho, loomed over him.
> "Finish him, and I'll take your spoils. He's worthless—earned zero points."
Bartho grinned, lifting his blade… then froze, sensing a sudden surge. A violet aura flared around Yohan as he rose, gaze frozen on Bartho's cocky sneer.
In an instant, a titanic clash erupted. Sparks flew as Yohan's fist met Bartho's sword. The forest itself seemed to quake. Bartho stumbled—blood seeping from a slash across his side—only to roar back into the fight. But Yohan struck true: one piercing blow sent Bartho's head crashing to the earth.
A spectral screen hovered: "+45 points (Bartho) +5 bonus = 50 points total."
The remaining seven hunters stared slack-jawed. Yohan's lips curled in a savage grin. With ruthless precision, he cut them down one by one. When the final dagger fell, another pop-up read: "+20 points — 70 points total."
---
12:40 p.m.
The forest's sunlight dimmed. Black smoke coiled into the treetops, and the wind whispered of something ancient awakening. From the gloom, a towering figure appeared: a man draped in ragged black robes, heavy sword sheathed at his side. He drew that blade with a single, silent motion—and the world seemed to freeze.
Yohan raised an arm. Steel met flesh in a thunderous collision as the stranger's sword bit deep into Yohan's side. Crimson seeped into his tunic, but Yohan did not cry out. He stood unmoving, as if welcoming death. The stranger stepped back—in utter disbelief.
> "How can a mere boy endure that?"
"I slaughtered the Malice Prince—points = 85—yet you… you are not of any noble blood, yet possess a power no royal commands. I must have you with me."
He sheathed his sword, then placed a single touch to Yohan's back. In an instant, the world blurred—Yohan slumped unconscious.
---
12:43 p.m. (Magic Hall)
Inside the Great Hall, rumor raced like wildfire.
> "Who was that masked man in the forest?"
"And where is that… boy?"
Judas pounded his fist on the table, voice echoing:
> "That exam ended at 12:40 p.m. Anyone still out there is beyond my control! Blame House Windsor all you like—but I had no authority once the siren blew."
A Yamazaki captain sneered:
> "Windsor's guardianship proved worthless—couldn't even keep their ward alive!"
A Grimaldi noble barked back:
> "If they can't hold a simple trial, they don't deserve to be one of the Twelve Captains!"
Only Judas stood firm, arms crossed:
> "Fifteen teams survived. Let House Wittelsbach choose their champion—but know this isn't Windsor's disgrace alone."
---
12:50 p.m.: A Shadowy Oath
Far from the bloodied halls, Yohan stirred in darkness. The masked man knelt beside him. When Yohan's eyes finally opened, they blazed with a fierce intensity.
The man extended a gauntleted hand. Yohan clasped it, voice raw:
> "Do not forget our pact."
Suddenly, Yohan bent at the waist, stomach heaved… and he vomited blood onto the dirt floor. He stood again, breathing raggedly, then looked up at the man.
> "I will join… House Wittelsbach."
A gasp slipped from the swordsman's lips—Shingen, now revealed: the same lord whose banner had flown over the exam grounds. Around them, a ring of black fog coalesced, sealing both from mortal sight.
---
12:12 p.m.: Sansa (Southern Forest)
Several hundred paces away, Sansa fought for her life. Six attackers—hungry for her twenty points—swarmed around her, steel flashing in dim light. Sweat and blood mingled down her brow as she parried a dagger thrust and kicked her assailant into a mossy trunk.
Her thoughts flickered back to Yohan: Did he survive? Does he even know I'm here? If he failed, she'd give him her points—twenty precious points. But there was no time. One of the attackers lunged—Sansa's rapier slashed across his chest. Another flung himself at her throat. Gritting her teeth, she spun, downed two more, and blocked a spear with her left arm.
In a final desperate gambit, she plunged through the last foe's guard—her blade emerging from his breast.
A screen hovered: "+30 points (five foes) +20 bonus = 50 points total."
Blood dripped from her sword. Sansa sank to one knee—exhaustion and pain clawing through her limbs.
---
Then, from the shadows, a boy stepped forward—clad in royal armor, no older than Yohan, yet his eyes brimmed with cruelty. He unsheathed his blade with a hiss.
"Trash like you… people without a name or status… dare to sit at our table and call yourselves candidates? I'll show you what happens when insects crawl into places they don't belong."
Sansa—already exhausted, bloodied, her silver hair matted to her cheeks—lifted her blade with trembling arms. Her vision blurred. Her lip was split; blood dripped down her chin. She had fought too long, too hard.
He struck like lightning—too fast for her to parry. The blade pierced her side, not killing her outright but driving her to her knees.
What followed… no one would speak of it again.
The cruelty was not in how he fought, but how he prolonged her pain. He didn't kill her. He played with her suffering—cutting, healing, hurting again.
Her cries echoed through the forest—but no one came.
some of the sword enters Sansa's stomach from his mouth only to feel her pain up from inside and she felt every pain until he couldn't feel anything she wanted to die fast but ended up feeling every pieces of her body . he heal her until he fully enjoy and He tears off her clothes and then puts his finger in her eyes, then in her mouth, he spits on her and, after that he touches her.
When it was done, he stood over her, spat on her, and whispered:
"Better to break an insect than squash it."
He vanished into the shadows, leaving her broken.
---
Someone appeared but not human !!!!!!!
Cut to: Yohan (12:45:57)
Yohan stood in front of Captain Shingen, blood crusted on his shirt, his eyes hollow yet determined.
> "Ask your question," he said.
Shingen leaned forward.
> "Why do you want to join House Wittelsbach? Who was the man who took you from the exam grounds? And how did you return here—alive?"
Yohan's voice was calm, even cold.
> "I'll give you one answer: I have my reasons. You're not like the others. You're not royal-born. That's why I chose you."
"But the rest of my answers? I'll only give them if you let me join."
Shingen smirked, then lunged.
Steel rang against steel. Yohan blocked the blow just in time. Blood trickled from a new wound on his arm, but he stood firm.
Shingen nodded.
> "Good. You've got guts. You're reckless—but not spineless. Fine. You can join me."
"But… I have bad news about someone. That girl—Sansa, wasn't it?"
"She didn't make it out of the forest."
Just silence.
Yohan knelt, hands shaking.
> "Sansa…"
" We have to find out her , Captain"
"Yohan , listen I tried my best to find out her but Orthodox forest is not under me ,it commonded by Windsor and King gave authority to Windsor "
"Windsor....but master about who lost wasn't they not citizen of our kingdom ."
" Look , our human society divided into four part like our continent there is only elves , human , monk and dragon . There is no places for other species and creature like vampire, oni , snake , etc some of them not appeared in for a century as it in our kingdom there is places and facility mainly focus for only those who came from King family, Royal family, Priest family and merchant family And Sansa doesn't came from those family ...right?!!
Yohan fists clenched.
There is only silence.
Shingen broke silence ," If you want find her , Become strongest . This is the only way you can find her if she able to survival that forest."
As Shingen led Yohaward the domain of the House of Wittelsbach, his voice was low but resolute.
The air felt heavy, as if the world hadn't fully righted itself since what happened to Sansa.
After a moment, Yohan asked, "What should I call you?"
Shingen gave a rare, thin smile. "Call me Captain. Everyone else does."
He paused, then added with a strange glint in his eye, "Come. You'll meet the others—in Wittelsbach. See if you still want to stay."
He raised his right hand and tapped the space before them with a single finger.
A shimmer split the air, bending like liquid glass. A portal opened—quiet, elegant, and pulsing with subtle energy.
Without a word, they stepped through
Yohan blinked. The world beyond the portal was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Towering trees reached skyward like ancient guardians. Massive, floating landmasses drifted between distant peaks—each carrying forests, ruins, and waterfalls that poured into nothingness, suspended mid-air.
The sky was vast and layered with streaks of glowing clouds that pulsed like veins of light. Mountains ringed the horizon, their snow-capped tops slicing through mist and wind.
Everything felt still. Timeless.
A world untouched by chaos. And yet, Yohan could feel something humming beneath the surface—an immense, slumbering power.
"This," Shingen said, "is the seat of House Wittelsbach. A place above the world. Built for those who walk outside fate."
Yohan didn't respond. He was already wondering:
What kind of house was this, and what would it make of him?
Shingen and Yohan moved ahead slowly, their footsteps quiet against the earth. Yohan's eyes lit up as he took in the breathtaking view—lush hills rolled into the distance, kissed by soft clouds—but there was a trace of sadness on his face, something unspoken weighing beneath his joy.
After a while, a structure came into view.
A towering Gothic cathedral fills the frame, its dark stone façade rising straight up into an overcast sky. Two needle-like spires, intricately carved with pointed arches and delicate tracery, stretch upward in perfect symmetry. Below them, a series of tall lancet windows and ornate doorways—each framed by elaborate sculpted reliefs—jut outward in layered tiers. The weathered stone has taken on a charcoal hue, accentuating every sharp finial, buttress, and ornamental gable. One of the spires is partially shrouded in scaffolding, hinting at ongoing restoration work. From this low-angle view, the cathedral's immense verticality seems almost endless, its multitude of arches and sculptural details weaving together to create an imposing, solemn grandeur.