The silence of the lake was comforting. Cordelia had no idea how long she'd meditated there—just that the pulse of the world now throbbed in her roots.
She felt everything.
[Notice: Mana circle completed.]
[System: You have inherited dormant abilities from the Primordial Demoness, Yerith.]
"Not all of them are unlocked, though," Val's voice popped in, smug as ever. "You'll need to complete random quests to access the rest. Classic grind."
Cordelia opened her awareness—and saw Val had changed. No longer a shadowy floating butterfly.
"…You're a bat now?"
Val flapped its tiny wings, proud.
"Val 2.0.Evolution form. Full gothic cuteness."
She squinted.
"It doesn't seem that different."
Val huffed.
"You try being a system for a murderous plant-woman and see how stable your form is."
She laughed softly, but then turned serious.
"So… Now can I transform? Like, take a body?"
[Notice: To obtain a physical body, you must kill one.]
Cordelia stared at the glowing message.
"…Excuse me?!"
Val yawned, baring tiny bat fangs.
"You want flesh? You need to steal it. Not my rule, blame the system gods."
Cordelia groaned, sinking into her vines.
"Then what magic of Yerith's CAN I use now?"
"For now… Yerith's illusion magic."
Cordelia blinked.
"Like… the one she used to speak to me?"
"Yep. You can now project an image. Limited form. Shadowy, floaty, spooky hot—just like your mama."
She grinned.
"Then I want to go up. I want to see the surface."
Val nodded toward the branch above.
"You can now see the top."
"Roam."
The spell activated.
Her awareness shot up—through the cavern, past the vines, bursting into the open sky above the forest.
Wind.
Sunlight.
A hum of life so loud it throbbed against her bark.
She was there, perched atop the highest branch of herself—
A crimson wisteria, blooming like a god had bled on it.
The forest around her was green, but she was not.
Her petals… were razor edges.
Her scent… madness.
Her presence… divine death.
---
[Notice: Would you like to activate World POV?]
"What's that?"
[World POV allows you to see how the world perceives you.]
"Apply it."
Her vision flickered.
And for the first time, she saw herself through the eyes of the world.
A crimson monster-tree, divine and unholy. A hybrid of a thousand deaths, soaked in blood and mana. Her petals danced in the breeze—but to the forest's creatures, they were razors in disguise.
"...I'm terrifying," she whispered.
Val:
"Dangerously beautiful."
She felt it then. The entire forest.
The mud. The branches. The birdsong. The silent sleeping demons.
The dragons are far off.
The ghosts drifting in forgotten rivers.
And then—
She felt a fight.
Steel. Poison. Rage.
"A fight?"
"Roam."
*************************
Zarethian Empire –
The throne room was empty. No councilmen. No advisors. Only the King.
Cassian Vaelcrest de Ashwyne.
Ruler of the Zarethian Empire.
Heir of the Vaelcrest bloodline.
And the one who carried the burden of fear better than any crown.
He stood by the massive stormglass window, where morning light filtered through stained patterns of lightning and thorns. His golden crown cast a shadow across his sharp, unreadable expression and his long silver hair.
The doors creaked open.
Gabriel Vaelthorne de Ashywne stepped in—
White coat trailing behind him, silver-blonde hair slightly tousled, eyes burning. Though sleepless, he stood tall, calm, and deadly.
He didn't bow.
He didn't need to.
"You felt it," Cassian said quietly, without turning.
"Last night," Gabriel replied, voice cold. "The moment the seal broke. Like something ancient exhaled... for the first time in 500 years."
Cassian finally turned.
His eyes were the same silver-blue as their ancestors'. But Gabriel's were different— red, coiled with silent power. He wasn't here to ask permission.
"You haven't changed," Cassian murmured. "Still walking in like a storm waiting to strike."
"And you haven't aged," Gabriel shot back. "Still hiding thunder behind that crown."
A beat of silence.
"It's Yerith," Cassian said at last. "The seal is gone. Her Mana disappeared. The forest's energy shifted violently. Something's changed..."
Gabriel exhaled once. Slowly.
He already knew.
But hearing it made the coming war feel real.
"I'll go inspect it."
"You already planned to," Cassian said. "This is just me pretending I have control."
Gabriel stepped closer, lightning sparking faintly beneath his boots.
"You never had control, cousin. You only had the illusion of it."
Cassian's eyes darkened, but his smile remained.
"Then go. Take your dogs with you—Luomon and Lilith. The palace is sending B-class hunters. They are going under your command. I know nothing will happen. I'm sending you my war army. Use them wisely."
"I'm not going there to babysit," Gabriel snapped.
"You're going there to remind the forest who owns it," Cassian replied smoothly. "Or did you forget what your family swore centuries ago?"
Gabriel didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
His silence was louder than any oath. The oath his family swore to never crave for this throne.Which Gabriel never had. But still mocking his cousin about the upcoming war.
"Be careful," Cassian said at last, turning back toward the window. "If it's not Yerith... it might be something even worse."
Gabriel's cloak rustled as he turned away, his voice low and sharp.
"Good. I was starting to get bored."
And with that, the storm left the throne room.
---
As the palace gates swung open behind him, Gabriel exhaled sharply. The sky above the empire still looked calm—but he could feel the air changing. The forest was awake.
At the steps of the main corridor, two figures waited.
They leaned against the obsidian railing of the balcony like twin shadows, weapons resting beside them.
One, clad in flowing silver and blue, polished nails and frost-laced lashes—Lilith Vaelthorne, Mistress of Ice. Her smirk was sharper than any sword.
Beside her, sleeves rolled to his elbows, shirt half-open to reveal toned arms veined with faint streams of magic, leaned her twin—Luomon Vaelthorne, Lord of Tides.
His lazy smile could kill.
"Yo, cousin," Luomon said, tossing a mana orb in one hand. "You finally done talking politics with our favorite coward?"
"He's still wearing that ridiculous crown, isn't he?" Lilith added with a chuckle, eyes gleaming icy blue. "We should melt it one day."
"Or drown him in it," Luomon said with mock sympathy.
Gabriel walked past them wordlessly, white cloak billowing like a god of judgment.
"It's confirmed," he muttered. "Yerith's seal is gone."
The twins straightened.
Lilith's smile disappeared. Luomon's magic started humming.
"Well damn," he said softly. "About time something fun happened."
---
Zarethian Empire – East Gate
The city gate was already swarming with armor-clad soldiers and mages—the King's B-class hunters. Too loud. Too arrogant for their own good.
They straightened the moment they saw Gabriel approach, followed by the infamous silver-haired twins.
"D-Duke Vaelthorne!" one of them stammered. "We're ready to depart. The imperial scouts have mapped—"
"Shut it," Lilith said, not breaking stride.
"Don't bark orders like a dog unless you're ready to get put down," Luomon added, grinning.
The hunters swallowed hard, retreating like prey sensing the presence of real predators.
Gabriel didn't look at any of them.
His eyes were fixed forward.
The open gates.
The road beyond.
And at the end of it—
The Forest.
Heavy fog coiled above the trees like a beast exhaling poison. The air was wrong. Tainted. Heavy with power that didn't belong to this world.
Lilith pulled on her gloves.
"Smells like death."
Luomon rolled his neck.
"No... smells like a kingdom waiting to be burned."
Gabriel raised his hand.
A surge of lightning cracked above the gates.
"Let's go remind the forest," he said, voice like a verdict. "Who owns it."
And with that—
the three Vaelthornes stepped into the mist.
Followed by silence.
And B-class shadows trailing behind them.
---
The deeper they moved into the forest, the thicker the fog became.
Every step past the mist line felt like crossing into a forgotten world.
Ancient. Breathing. Watching.
Monsters began appearing in groups. Crawling from the shadows, hiding in trees, stalking with gleaming eyes.
"Scatter formation," Gabriel ordered coldly. "Don't make me repeat myself."
The B-class hunters moved fast. Or tried to.
An earth wolf lunged. A vinebeast rose from beneath the mud.
Screams echoed. Blades clashed. Spells flew wild.
Gabriel sliced a wyvern-like creature in half midair, barely blinking. Sparks of lightning trailed behind him. Every strike was fatal. Clean. Effortless.
Lilith danced between frost and blood, freezing beasts from the inside out.
Luomon flooded the battlefield with precise torrents—then stored their corpses and core stones in sleek crystal orbs strapped to his belt.
"Do we sell these or keep them for experiments?" he asked casually.
"Auction," Lilith replied. "Blood warlords pay good coin for venom fangs."
" Pocket money." Luomon smirked.
Gabriel said nothing. Just stared at them as the future marquesses are talking about pocket money.
He was already looking ahead.
---
Near the Crimson Wisteria Cavern–
They finally reached the edges of the dungeon.
A haunting pressure pulsed from the mountain ahead—formerly just a cave, now mutated by five centuries of sealed Mana.
"This was her tomb," Lilith whispered. "But now it's feeding."
"It's... breathing," Luomon muttered, gripping his blade. "This forest is alive."
Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
He could feel it.
Something had claimed this place.
"Set a temporary camp," he commanded. "Rest. We move deeper after the break."
Meanwhile…
Far from camp, four greedy B-class hunters had slithered off into the shadows.
"They're nobles," one muttered. "They'll take all the cores anyway. We need something of our own."
"Look!" another whispered. "A serpent nest...!"
Inside the twisted roots of an old tree, four shimmering serpent eggs lay glowing.
One hunter reached out.
"Careful! Serpents are imprinted by scent—!"
CRACK.
Too late.
They dropped it.
The inside twitched once. Then it turned black.
The trees fell silent.
A rumble echoed behind them.
"...Guys?"
A massive black-and-purple serpent slithered forward—its eyes glowing crimson, its tail soaked in venom.
[ Hydra ]
A-ranked serpent.
Guardian of the nest.
"RUN!!"
They bolted—screaming, stumbling, leading the furious beast straight back to camp.
"DUKE GABRIEL!!!"
Gabriel turned.
A scream.
Four hunters.
A massive serpent crashing through trees.
He raised a hand.
Before he could attack, Lilith stepped forward.
"Let me play."
With a single motion, ice shards formed around her in a blizzard spiral. She twirled—graceful and precise—and slashed into the serpent's scales. Blood sprayed.
But before she could land the final blow, Venom shrieked, and released a plume of black smoke into the sky.
"Shit—" Luomon's eyes widened. "That's a distress call!"
The earth rumbled.
Suddenly—dozens of serpents slithered from the forest, black scales glinting, fangs bared.
The entire serpent tribe had arrived.
Gabriel stepped forward now, electricity sparking at his fingertips.
"...They're territorial."
"They're pissed," Lilith corrected, licking a cut on her glove. "This got fun."
"We're surrounded," one of the B-class hunters whimpered.
"Then die quietly," Gabriel said flatly, raising his blade.
And just before things escalated further—
A wind blew.
Crimson petals rained from above.
A strange, sharp aura fell over the clearing.
Every serpent froze.
Lilith and Luomon looked up.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
---
"Petals?"
Lilith's voice sliced through the unnatural silence.
Even Luomon, ever-calm, paused.
The air grew thick—scented with blood and flowers.
Crimson petals fluttered gently from the sky.
Not a sound.
Not a whisper.
The serpents froze.
The B-class hunters stopped breathing.
It was... beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Gabriel raised a gloved hand and caught one.
Slice!
Blood.
A thin, clean cut across his palm.
His eyes snapped wide.
"Don't touch the petals!!"
But it was too late.
The patels danced like razors—elegant, deadly. They sliced through the air with violent grace.
Three hunters screamed.
Their skin torn, their armor shredded.
One dropped dead before he could even register the pain.
Lilith moved fast.
She activated a crystalline shield of ice that covered the remaining party.
Luomon lunged for the last hunter—the fool who broke the egg—but a storm of petal blades came raining down.
Electricity flashed.
Gabriel's lightning struck the petals midair, neutralizing their edge and flinging Luomon and the injured hunter to the side.
The storm paused.
The air twisted.
A thick root lunged from beneath the earth, snapping toward Gabriel's head. He twisted—barely dodging it—his coat tearing at the shoulder.
And then—
She emerged.
From the shadows of the twisted root,
Bathed in moonlight and blood-colored petals—
A silhouette.
Crimson hair so long it brushed the earth.
Floating. Not walking.
A red robe draped over a pale frame, ethereal and dreadful.
Front locks veiled her eyes. Her face was unseen.
But her presence—undeniable.
It wasn't magic.
It wasn't aura.
It was dominion.
A monster born from sin.
Nurtured by centuries of cursed Mana.
Crowned in petals.
The serpents trembled, lowering their heads instinctively.
The hunters said nothing.
Even Gabriel didn't move.
He simply stared.
Her voice echoed—not from her mouth, but within the mind.
" You touched what's mine."
The words were soft, low, and deep—yet somehow, every person present there heard it.
A stillness followed.
Not even the wind dared speak.
Gabriel tilted his head, red eyes sharpening.
" You... are?"
A pause.
Then—
" The owner of this domain."
Her voice was calm. Ancient. Final.
Gabriel flinched for just a second. Then—he laughed.
A short, sharp sound.
"Haha... owner?" he echoed, tone laced with amusement.
"I see you can joke... but it's not funny."
The last word fell like ice on stone—cold, deadly, edged.