I rember when it all began.
It was a day like any other, or so I thought. A man in a dark cloak ca to with a strange request. He asked if I could craft a weapon for him—using a material I had never encountered before.
The substance was otherworldly. It glead faintly under the light, its texture neither tal nor stone. It pulsed, as if alive, and—most unsettling of all—it absorbed mana on its own. I couldn't help but be curious. What was this material? Where did it co from?
I never imagined that accepting his request would mark the beginning of my people's demise.
I took the material and set to work, trying every technique I knew. But nothing worked. Unlike any tal or substance I had ever forged, it resisted all attempts to shape or manipulate it. Its structure defied the very laws of crafting.
That only fueled my determination. I experinted relentlessly, abandoning caution. I infused it with runes—so known, others forbidden—just to see what might happen.
And eventually, I succeeded. I created sothing.
The result was unlike anything I'd ever forged before. It was a weapon, if one could even call it that. The creation was malleable, able to change its form at will, yet stronger than any material known to existence. It was my masterpiece, the pinnacle of my craft.
But then ca the day when the man returned to collect it.
Out of curiosity, I asked him what the material was. He only smiled, paid generously, and turned to leave. Before he departed, he ntioned sothing vague—sothing about an army. His words didn't make sense, and when he refused to elaborate, I decided to forget about it.
Until ten years ago.
That was when he returned. But this ti, he wasn't alone.
He brought them with him—the Ryquins. They ca in droves, slaughtering my people without rcy. Those who survived were dragged into a hidden underground layer, a place even we dwarves didn't know existed. A labyrinth connected to our tunnels, where horrors awaited.
I watched, helpless, as my kin were killed one by one. But it wasn't just death. As the Ryquins struck the killing blow, the man took sothing from each victim. Sothing crucial.
It was then I understood what the mysterious material had been all along.
Mana cores.
The very essence of life. The foundation of magic. The heart of every living being. That material wasn't so alien substance—it was forged from stolen mana cores.
And the Ryquins? They were the result of a dark ritual. Living beings stripped of their mana cores and infused with black magic, turned into soulless monsters.
But the man wasn't done. He wanted more. He sought to create Ryquins powerful enough to rival dragons. And for that, he needed my help again.
He offered freedom in exchange for two things: a perfected version of the weapon I had forged, free from the mana poisoning and combustion flaws of the original, and a puppet crafted from the sa material.
I was horrified, but what choice did I have? He provided with thousands of mana cores, a grotesque testant to the countless lives lost. Reluctantly, I began my work.
As I toiled, I watched. I saw the tornt he inflicted on my kin. I saw the experints—their cruelty. And though I was powerless to stop him, I learned. I realized the Ryquins were influenced by sound, susceptible to control through it.
When my work was complete, I handed him both the puppet and the weapon. He gave the weapon to one of his allies to infuse with mana.
That was when my plan took effect.
The weapon absorbed mana at an unprecedented rate. Within seconds, it had accumulated more energy than it could contain. Before they realized what was happening, it detonated.
The explosion was catastrophic, wiping out nearly everyone present.
I had anticipated the blast and infused my essence into the puppet. My physical body was incinerated in the explosion, but the puppet activated, allowing to escape.
But even as I fled, I knew I was too late.
When I reached the layer where my people had been taken, I found only horror. They had all been transford into Ryquins. Every last one.
That's why I didn't intervene when I saw you enter the tunnels. I needed to know where you stood, if you were one of them. I needed to see if you would resort to dark magic to save yourself. If you had, it would have confird my fears.
But even at the brink of death. You didn't use it. That's when I realized… you weren't one of them.
"So… that girl you ntioned. How do you know she's one of them?" I asked, my voice steady but edged with curiosity.
He turned to , his gaze somber. "She fond a way into the tunnels. I… I lured a swarm of Ryquins here, hoping it would be enough to stop her." He paused, staring forward with a stern, unreadable expression.
"What happened?" I pressed, leaning closer.
"She killed them all," he said, his voice dropping. "And though she didn't use dark magic, I saw it—the sigil on her cloak. It was the sa one that man wore."
"What did it say?"
"Kyneal," he murmured, and just as the word left his lips—
BOOM!
The ground shook violently, dust and debris raining from above. "What was that?!" I shouted, instinctively bracing myself.
He rushed over, urgency flashing in his eyes. "You need to go. Now. I'll lead her away from here. She cannot get the weapon."
I blinked in confusion. "But I thought you said you never actually built it."
His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unyielding. "This puppet," he said, gesturing to himself, "is the weapon itself."
Another explosion echoed through the tunnels, the sound reverberating in my chest.
I struggled to sit up as he hurriedly released the chains binding . "Where am I supposed to go? Where can I find this 'hideout' you spoke of?"
He hesitated for the briefest mont before answering. "The place where the rest of the Ryquins are. Their stronghold. That's where all the mana cores are stored."
"But how do I find it?" I asked, my voice rising in frustration.
His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of his knowledge was too much to bear. "I… don't know. I know it exists, but I don't know its exact location."
My frustration deepened. "Then how am I supposed to find it?"
"You don't need to find it now," he said, his voice firm. "You're too weak to face them as you are. But if the chance cos—when you're stronger—promise you'll fulfill this wish of mine. Stop them. Destroy that place."
Before I could respond, the door to the chamber burst open with a deafening crash.
I whipped my head around, heart pounding, and there she was.
Standing in the doorway, sword in hand, was a girl with striking blue hair that I recognized imdiately.
I knew her from the ga.
"Lily?"
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