Lunareth’s east-end slums had always smelled of rot, smoke, and salt from the nearby canals. But tonight, the scent was sharper, burnt flesh and seared magic. The kind that clung to the lungs, heavy and bitter.
She stepped into the silent street leading to the city centre, her cloak trailing behind her like a whisper of shadow. The faint glow of her crimson red eyes pierced the darkness.
Twenty bodies lay sprawled across the cobblestones, some dismembered, others charred beyond recognition. A few still twitched with dying nerves.
She stopped in front of one. The man's chest had caved in; blood flowing like ink beneath the moonlight. Gently, she pressed 2 fingers to his throat. Nothing.
"Twenty magicians. All slain in such a short time." She said in a cold voice.
She reached into her cloak and retrieved a small glass vial, pouring a clear liquid over the blackened tattoo on his arm. The mark of the Ash Hands sizzled and vanished in a trail of smoke.
The woman stood up, looking up toward the temple in the distance.
"It seems like the temple may be involved in this."
She closed her eyes, whispering a sharp incantation. Above her, a ghostly crimson eye shimmered into existence. It pulsed, then cast the scene backward, a spectral replay of the fight that took place here.
Nolan moved through the memory like death incarnate. A blur of her red dress and dark sword light. Her hands were steady, her strikes brutal. Selia stood behind her, a storm of divine power, purging the street with consecrated flames.
The vision ended. The eye crumbled into motes of red dust.
The cloaked woman stood still for a long moment. Her shock as evident as ever, droplets of sweat sliding down her face.
"So, she's the core... truly formidable." She murmured to herself.
Turning her gaze over to the corpses which now lay on the street, she raised her hand and cast a spell as her eyes glowed crimson red again.
"Burn!"
FWA-BOOOOM!!!
A violent burst of dark red flames engulfed every corpse in sight, flames drowning out the sizzle of flesh and the hiss of melting blood.
A while later, the flames went out. Nothing remained of the corpses, the silent street, once a scene of blood and gory corpses was now silent and empty once again. Burn marks where the corpses laid were barely visible to the naked eye. It was as if nothing had happened, no bones, no blood, no ashes. Nothing.
After making sure no clue was left behind, she turned around and vanished into the alley’s shadows, her footsteps soundless.
In a rooftop not far away, a shadow watched her leave before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.
...
Crimson Hall - The Sanctum Below.
The central chamber of the Ash Hands' underground sanctuary was colder than usual. The walls, lined with red crystals, pulsed dimly like a slumbering heart. Dozens of cultists stood in silence—some masked, others veiled. Their auras trembled.
At the centre, upon a raised stone platform, stood the High Inquisitor, robed in ceremonial gray with a silver forked-tongue charm dangling from his collar.
The cloaked woman stepped forward. Her hood remained up.
"All 20 are dead. No survivors. The magic residues confirm Selia’s hand. But the girl... fought like a monster."
Murmurs broke out instantly.
"Twenty trained magicians dead?! Just like that?!"
"She's just a vessel, how could she be so powerful?!"
"We should have been more careful."
"You were careless," the red-eyed woman cut in, her voice low and firm. "You should have sent at least one of the executives along with them. She may be powerful but she's still young, this was our only chance to capture her."
A cloaked warlock stepped forward, fists clenched. "You dare speak that way in the sanctum?!"
Her eyes flared red. The warlock stopped moving, his body shook in fear as he felt that he would die if he took another step.
The High Inquisitor raised his staff, silencing the room. "This changes nothing," he said. "The ritual must continue. If we can't capture her, we will craft a new core instead. However, we must do whatever it takes to capture her."
Another cultist, older and gaunt, spoke. "Surround the city and make sure she doesn't escape our grasp, and inform our spies in the temple to keep an eye out for her. Since the High Priestess was involved, it's most likely she hid the child within the temple." He then turned to the cloaked woman.
"What did she look like? We need to circulate a portrait of her so our men can point her out easily."
The cloaked woman's red eyes flicked, projecting a red light from her eyes that showed Nolan's appearance. In the projection, Nolan wore a red dress, had brown hair and eyes.
One thought came to everyone's mind at this moment, "Beautiful!"
"Ahem!" The High Inquisitor cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention. "Make portraits and spread them out among our men."
"Is it okay to circulate portraits of her like this? Didn't the dark priest state that she may not be in her true form." The woman asked.
"It's better than nothing, besides her hair and eye color, such a beautiful face cannot be a disguise." The High Inquisitor said, many in the room nodding in agreement.
Suddenly, a tall man walked into the room, clad in dark robes with his face hidden. He was the dark priest, the same one who had also felt Nolan's presence before. Many bowed to him as they opened a path.
Arriving next to the High Inquisitor, they exchanged a nod in greeting to each other without speaking.
"The revered one has given me a new revelation. Leave the girl be for now, and craft a new core as soon as possible. Once the plan succeeds, we must find her as soon as possible. She cannot be allowed to grow any stronger than she already is. Call all of our forces back so we can focus on this task, we'll also have to lay low for a while." The dark priest said in a cold voice.
A flicker of unease passed through the hall. But no one dared to speak.
...
Moonlight Sanctuary –Lunareth’s Temple.
Silver moonlight poured through the stained glass as Nolan stepped through a divine gate, the temple's interior wrapping around her like warm mist. She exhaled slowly.
Beside her, Selia straightened her robe and pulled up her hood. No one must see her, not like this.
The hallway was empty. At this hour, only the temple's holy knights remained awake, patrolling outside and guarding the temple.
Elaria waited in the inner garden, her white robes faintly luminous beneath the moon’s touch. When she saw Nolan covered in blood, her breath quickened as panic set in.
"You’re wounded—"
"I’m not," Nolan said, stepping forward. "This is not my blood."
Elaria reached out and touched her hand anyway. A pulse of soft warmth passed between them.
"Your aura’s flickering," she whispered. "You shouldn't fight when your body is still recovering."
"They were just small fries, nothing to worry about."
They stood in silence for a moment. Elaria staring at Nolan with a frown, while Nolan averted her gaze to avoid Elaria's scolding gaze.
Selia spoke, breaking the silence. "It seems like the Ash Hands are after her now."
Elaria nodded. "I’ve felt it too. Luna speaks of a fractured thread. Of something lost... and something awakening."
"Luna?" Nolan lost her composure upon hearing Luna's name. Since using the Dark Nova back then, she hadn't heard anything from Luna. Not even a message in the attribute panel.
Elaria noticed Nolan's change in composure upon mentioning Luna and spoke, "Do not worry, the reason she can't communicate with you is because she personally descended to this world to heal you back then. Her divine power still lingers within your soul, so she can't contact you without consequences..."
Elaria paused, gauging Nolan's reaction before continuing.
"Four years. The divine powers that linger in your soul should be cleared out then. She'll be able to communicate with you freely then."
"I see, so she wasn't ignoring me..." Nolan murmured as she broke into a soft smile.
"I'm watching, so give me a good show for the next 4 years," Elaria suddenly said to Nolan, "That's the message Luna asked me to pass on to you."
"I see." Nolan replied.
After that, from her sleeve, Elaria drew a small moonstone amulet. Pale silver, cold to the touch.
"Luna also told me to pass on this to you, it's imbued with some of her power so it should help create a strong barrier around the village."
Nolan took it. The gem pulsed once in her hand, as if recognizing it's owner.
"It's time for you to leave now, if you stay any longer, the other high priests might feel your presence.
Nolan whispered, "Thank you for everything," then stepped back. "I need to return. There's a lot to do."
Selia raised a hand and opened another spell gate, this one tuned to the cliffs above Nolan's village. A gust of holy wind swept across the stones.
Elaria reached for Nolan's hand, holding it tightly.
"Promise me," she said, "if it gets too difficult, come visit us."
Nolan looked her in the eyes and replied with a nod.
She turned around and stepped into the spell gate.
The spell gate was a teleportation spell which required a lot of mana to cast for long distance teleportation, Selia didn't have enough mana to teleport Nolan all the way back to the village after using her magic in the fight and teleporting to the temple with Nolan afterwards.
Since the temple itself was a place of worship for Luna, it had boundless amounts of divine magic, so it was the best place to cast a long-distance teleportation spell without having to worry about mana.
"Seven days," Selia said to Nolan as she stopped just before the gate. "Don't forget to make the necessary preparations for the slaves."
"I've already made all the necessary preparations, no need to worry." Nolan replied with a soft smile.
After that, she stepped into the spell gate as it closed behind her.
...
On top of the mountains overlooking the village.
Nolan stepped out of the silver spell gate, into the cold wind as moonlight shone above the sky.
The village lay far below, torches flickering like stars trapped on earth. Her village. Her people. Her mission.
The whole village was now different from what it used to be. The streets were now clean, the villagers' houses now looked decent. No more leaking roofs or leaning house structures. It was well past midnight, so everyone except the guards on night duty was asleep.
The streets were empty, with only a few guards patrolling. But the atmosphere of the village was now different from the first day Nolan arrived. The air of despair had completely vanished, replaced by an atmosphere of harmony and peace.
The village that once suffered under the rule of a tyrant was no more, change had finally come to this desolate village.
Nolan's gaze shifted to the west-end of the village, where empty houses stood, built just recently. These houses were built for the slaves, although they more like dormitories than houses. Separated into 2 types, one for girls and the other for the boys.
She couldn't let the boys and girls live together since that would cause some issues, especially considering some of the slaves were teens in the spring of their youth.
In the centre was a huge four-story building, still unfinished. It separated the dorms and stuck out like a sore thumb. It was currently the tallest building in the whole village. This building was going to be a place that would give birth to many talents for the village.
It was going to be an Academy, a place of learning swordsmanship and magic among many other things for both the slaves and villagers.
Nolan stood on top of the mountain, deep in thought as her gaze shifted from the village to the moon that hung in the sky.
"Are you watching? I'll give you a good show for the four years, so sit tight and enjoy it." She said with a smile.
The moonlight shined even brighter after Nolan said this, as if responding to her words.
In her domain, Luna watched Nolan with a soft smile, but her hand was pressed against her heart with worry.
A portrait lay beside her; it was an intimate portrait of herself and a young woman. The woman had black hair and black eyes, she also had a striking resemblance to Nolan. No, she was like an older version of the current Nolan.
"Please be careful, I can't lose you again. No. I won't lose you no matter what this time." Luna murmured to herself.