The grand hall was silent except for the voice of a man standing in the center. His tone was calm, deliberate, and carried through the chamber like a whisper wrapped in smoke.
"This is a story," he began, eyes half-lidded as if recalling a distant dream. "A story about a warrior named Vixen. A man who stood alone against a thousand Light Warriors… a warrior known as the Eve—"
"Enough of this nonsense!"
The interruption struck the air like a blade.
The man's voice trailed off. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and scanned the crowd. Rows of nobles in jeweled robes sat frozen, their faces pale. At the far end of the hall, perched upon a golden throne, was the emperor himself hands trembling, sweat clinging to his brow.
"Y-you will stop this madness," the emperor stammered, forcing authority into his quivering voice.
The man tilted his head. His expression didn't change.Then, without warning, he swung his sword. It wasn't a motion meant for show it was effortless, almost lazy. Yet the air itself screamed.
A surge of invisible force ripped through the hall. The left half of the royal court vanished torn apart in a blast of wind and pressure. Marble shattered. Banners burned. When the dust settled, nothing remained but silence and the stench of blood.
The emperor stared at the destruction in disbelief. His jaw hung open and so did everyone else's, and for a moment, he looked as though he might faint. Then, trembling, he adjusted his crown, sat straighter, and forced a nervous smile.
"I… apologize," he said quickly. "Please. Continue your… story."
The man didn't reply at once. He stood motionless amid the ruin, holding something in his left hand. A small plant fragile, green, and absurdly alive in the middle of all that death.
He glanced at it briefly, then fixed his eyes on the emperor again. His stare was sharp, cold, and suffocating.
"You shouldn't interrupt," he said softly, "when someone is telling a story."
The emperor nodded aggressively as he was sweating bullets profusely. The silence that followed was unbearable. Then came the sound of metal scraping against the floor.
A man stepped forward the captain of the secret police, dressed in black armor and still untouched by the blast. His face twisted in fury.
"How dare you mock His Majesty!" he shouted. "You insolent cur!"
He lunged. The spear in his hands glowed faintly as he thrust it forward, aiming straight for the storyteller's heart.
The man simply moved a single step to the side. Simple yet elegant, and dumb. 'Only a spear wielding idiot would attack in a straight trajectory without being unable to change directions mid flight' This wasn't just the man's it was everyone who knew how to fight when they saw the captain lunged at him.
The spear shot past him, as a heavy gust of wind blew past the man with the captain's body following helplessly. He slammed into the wall with a crunch, leaving a deep crack in the marble before collapsing to the floor his arse hanging bare in the air.
The hall was quiet again. Dust floated through the light like ash.
The man exhaled slowly not in exhaustion, but in disappointment. He brushed a bit of dust off his sleeve, turned his head toward the emperor, and spoke in a tone almost casual.
"Your court," he said, "is severely lacking in discipline."
"My apologies dear sir!" The emperor shouted.
A few minutes later in the spear captain was sitting quietly in the crowd his face beaten to a pulp seemingly by his own people.
A faint crackle broke the silence. Tiny sparks of flame danced at the man's fingertips, flickering lazily as though the air itself feared to touch them.
He turned the little plant in his hand, studying it under the soft glow. Its leaves shimmered faintly, veins pulsing with light far too alive to belong to an ordinary sprout.
"What's so important about this thing anyway?" he asked casually, the corner of his mouth lifting into something that was not quite a smile.
The emperor swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "It… it's just a normal plant. Nothing special."
The man's eyes flickered crimson in the firelight. His faint smile curved wider, turning cruel.
"The Eternal Essence."
The words hit the hall like a thunderclap. Every noble, every mage, every soldier froze. Even the faint crackle of flame seemed to stop in reverence or fear.
The emperor's composure shattered completely. He stumbled from his throne, hands raised in desperation. "Please-please don't burn it! You don't understand what you're doing!"
But the man's gaze only hardened. The flame in his hand grew brighter, bending into a spiral of crimson heat that licked the edge of the fragile stem.
"How dare they," he murmured. His tone was calm, but the weight behind it shook the air."To think that using the Sun Essence to conquer half the continent wasn't enough… and now this. Creating the Eternal Essence?"
His lips curled in disgust."You've gone too far."
The emperor trembled, his knees buckling beneath him. The man's eyes, sharp as a blade's edge, never wavered.
"Before this, I might have forgiven you," he continued softly."But after sacrificing lives so meaninglessly-"
The flames flared, painting the ruined hall in blood-red light.
"-I simply cannot sit by."
The firelight swayed between them, casting long shadows across the ruined court.Then, from among the nobles, a voice broke the silence.
A court mage stepped forward, robes dragging through the dust. His hands trembled, but his voice was loud too loud.
"For a man who claims he cannot forgive us for taking lives so meaninglessly," he shouted, "you wiped out half the court without hesitation! How is that justice!?"
For a heartbeat, the world stood still.
Then-...plop.
The mage's head rolled gently across the marble floor, stopping at the emperor's feet.Gasps erupted around the hall. The emperor stumbled backward, pale as snow, while the man simply stood there, sword still dripping with silence.
Then he laughed.
It wasn't forced or hysterical it was genuine amusement, echoing off the walls, dark and mocking. "You're all delusional," he said between chuckles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Truly."
The emperor fell to his knees. "Please, don't burn it," he begged, gesturing toward the small plant in the man's hand.
The laughter stopped. The flames in his palm flickered once, then vanished completely."Fine," he said at last, his expression turning calm and serious.
He lowered the plant, dusted off his coat, and looked up again. "Now then… where was I?"
"The story," the emperor whispered quickly. "You were speaking of… Vixen."
"Ah, right," the man nodded. "Thank you."
He drew in a deep breath and spoke once more, voice resonant and commanding."Vixen the legendary warrior. The Everfall Knight, who stood against a thousand Light Warriors-..."
"Everfall Knight!?"
Another voice interrupted, another mage, standing near the shattered pillars. The man sighed again in frustration as he pinched his temple. "How many mages does this court have?" he muttered under his breath. "Do they not value their lives or something?"
The mage clenched his staff, shouting back, "The Everfall Knight isn't real! A myth! A children's tale not even worthy of history!"
The man exhaled deeply, disappointment etched into every syllable."That's what's wrong with you people," he said. "You stand at the top of the world, thinking you own everything… without understanding the simplest truth."
His eyes gleamed like a blade catching light."Vixen ruled half the world for nearly a millennia."
The hall erupted in gasps. "That's impossible!" the mage protested, voice cracking. "No one has ever seen him or even the Nightmare Essence itself-"
He never finished. The man smiled. Not kindly. Not warmly. It was the kind of smile that could freeze the sun.
"Or even the Nightmare Essence?" he repeated softly.
The torches along the walls flickered. Every shadow in the hall began to move stretching, twisting, curling like living things. The nobles backed away, terror creeping up their throats as the darkness rippled around their feet.
"I don't believe it…" the mage whispered, trembling.
"Don't take my word for it," the man said, his voice low and almost playful. "Why don't you ask the people behind you?"
The mage turned.
From the far end of the hall, figures emerged clad in robes of pure white, faces hidden beneath cloth marked with the crescent moon.
The Lunar Sect had arrived.