A figure emerged through the white haze of Loipetras' mountain range, boots crunching across packed snow. Her presence was sharp, commanding, and unsettling. Her mismatched eyes—one a fiery red purple, the other a glacial emerald—cut through the frost-like blades.
"The mountains of Loipetras..." she whispered, voice as cold as the air around her.
She raised her head toward the sky and let her voice rip into the wind.
"I'm back, Loipetras!"
With that cry, the mountains seemed to stir.
A strange wind buffeted her cloak—unnatural, silent yet suffused with pressure. She frowned. "I don't remember the wind here ever feeling... this strong."
But she pressed onward. Snow drifted around her legs as she trudged through knee-deep drifts. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted something glinting far ahead: a dome of ice pulsing faintly in the distance.
Her instincts screamed. "Don't go near it."
The dome vanished the moment the thought crossed her mind. So did the wind.
When she reached the spot, there was nothing left but glittering fragments of frost—and carnage. Mangled corpses. An enormous skeleton half-buried in bloodied snow. Slashes scarred the land. Ice spears jutted up like blades from a battlefield.
She stood frozen.
"What... happened here?"
The sun rose then, its golden fingers piercing the cold mist between the peaks, illuminating her armor in a gleam of defiant silver.
"Can I reverse this?"
She raised her hand. Above her, a massive celestial clock materialized. It ticked ominously; each click echoing through the crags. "Tik... tak... tik... tak..."
"DONG... DING... DONG..."
Time bent.
The peaks rebuilt themselves. Ice spikes melted. The skeleton vanished into bone dust. Even the blood was gone. The battlefield was no more.
Only stillness remained.
She gazed at the now-pristine landscape. "It's as if nothing ever happened."
Then she turned and walked away, her cape fluttering like a silent declaration.
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Elsewhere, Achlys was almost home.
He trudged through familiar trails, Cryo curled up on his head asleep. But then—a sound.
"Is that a clock?"
He looked to the horizon. A massive spectral clock spun above the mountains, and everything beneath it looked... untouched.
His brows furrowed. "What the...?"
He blinked and shook his head. When he looked again, it was gone.
"Okay, I'm officially losing it."
And with that, he kept walking.
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In the realm of shadows, beneath a twisted black tree whose fruits pulsed with an ominous purple mist, a girl sat cross-legged in contemplation. Her hair flowed like ink, and her horns curled skyward. Her eyes—twin amethysts—shimmered with suppressed fury.
A demon approached, carefully stepping through the cursed grove. Before he could speak, her eyes snapped open.
"What is it, Captain of the Third Squad?" Her voice was commanding, regal. Pressure dropped around them.
The demon knelt, sweat pouring down his brow. "T-The Demon Lord has summoned you. Y-You must head to the Loipetras mountains."
A sword appeared beside his neck in an instant.
"Why me?"
Before he could answer, another figure blurred between them—a man with short brown hair and black eyes streaked with twin blue lines.
"C'mon, dear sister," Dobrota said. "Let's not kill the messenger."
The sword vanished. She sighed.
"Fine."
Dobrota stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Just go. I'll protect the tree in your absence. One week. That's all I ask."
She hesitated, then stood. Before she left, she nodded and looked back toward the tree.
"Tree of Darkness... when will this so-called light arrive in our world?"
The wind rustled the cursed leaves as if answering.
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Back in Loipetras, Night had fallen.
Achlys lay in bed, deep in sleep. Cryo rested atop him, wings rising and falling with each breath.
Knock. Knock.
Cryo stirred. Eyes snapped open. A low growl rumbled from his throat.
Achlys groaned, half-awake. "Whuh... Cryo?"
Knock. Knock.
The sound got louder with each knock.
Achlys rose and trudged to the hallway.
"Who's there?!"
Silence. There was no answer. The wind rustled and moonlight shined bright through the windows.
Achlys gulped, hesitating and nervous.
"WHO IS THERE?!"
The door shattered inward. A boy stumbled in—short, red hair matted with blood, scars carved across his eyes.
He collapsed.
"What the—?! Hey! Are you okay?!"
Achlys rushed to him and checked his breath—shallow but alive. Sighing with relief, he hauled the stranger onto the sofa, covering him in a warm cloak.
Cryo remained crouched, watching with an unblinking stare.
Achlys returned with a bowl of steaming soup. "Just how did he end up like this...?"
Cryo tilted his head, visibly worried.
Later, the house fell quiet again. Achlys slumped on the opposite couch, barely awake. Cryo climbed up beside him, curled up like a snow-cat.
"Tired too, huh?" Achlys mumbled.
Cryo gave a sleepy chirp.
They both drifted into slumber.
Far away, in the demon lord's throne room.
The girl stood before her father.
"Three men. Eight days. That's all I need."
"You'll go alone," the Demon Lord replied, dramatically wiping a tear. "And don't fall in love, my little princess!"
"SHUT IT, FATHER!"
She turned on her heel and stomped away.
Behind her, he wept. "My daughter's growing up..."
Demons around the room awkwardly looked away.
"Ahem! Back to your duties, everyone!"
The princess stormed down the hallway. "Stupid father! STUPID STUPID STUPID!"
She spotted a low-ranking demon trying to sneak past.
"You didn't hear that. Got it?!"
He nodded and ran.
She sighed, composing herself. She stepped up to the massive castle gates.
"Open. It's me."
A glowing eye opened within the stone. It scanned her, then vanished. The door creaked open.
She stepped out, exhaling cold steam.
"I'm coming for him. Whoever he is... he won't know what hit him."
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<| Ability Book |>
Time Restoration Spellbook: Time Magic / Time Manipulation
Rarity: High Divine
Strength: Can reverse time for any area or object, even restoring ancient celestial bodies.
Weakness: Drains all mana; user becomes defenseless.
Explanation: A rare support ability linked to the time tree. Only the followers of Time possess its power.
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