7,000 years ago.
The world still shimmered then — before the wars, before destruction caged the seasons. The sky was gentler, bluer, and rivers carried laughter instead of names of the dead.
At the edge of a meadow where the wind smelled of lilac and honeydew, a young girl sat cross-legged, braiding wildflowers with stubborn fingers.
Sylaphine was fifteen. Her wings — still small, translucent — fluttered whenever she got frustrated, scattering golden dust through the sunbeams.
"Stop laughing!" she huffed, cheeks puffed as she tried to twist a vine into a circle. "It's not funny!"
The boy beside her chuckled anyway. "You've torn three crowns already."
"That's because the flowers here are weak!" she said, defensive, holding up a broken stem. "They don't know how to stay together!"
He plucked a new bloom from the field — white, simple — and began weaving it himself. "Maybe," he said, smiling faintly, "they just need someone gentler."
Sylaphine turned away with a flustered flick of her hair. "I am gentle!"
"Of course you are," he replied, mock-serious. "That's why every petal runs for its life."
She gasped and threw a handful of blossoms at him. "You're—! You're annoying me!"
He caught one midair and tucked it neatly behind her ear. "And you're adorable when you're angry."
Her cheeks turned rose-pink. "S-Stop saying weird things."
The boy only grinned — patient, older, the way sunlight grins in spring after a long winter.
Minutes passed. The laughter quieted, and the world seemed to lean in — birds pausing mid-song, leaves slowing their sway.
The boy finished his crown and gently placed it on her head.
"You'll look perfect when they see you tomorrow," he murmured.
Sylaphine's pout faded into something softer. "You really think I'll be a good… Queen?"
He leaned back on his hands, gazing at the clouds. "You'll be more than that. You'll be their Heart"
She frowned, thoughtful. "I don't even know what that means."
"It means," he said, plucking a dandelion and watching its seeds scatter, "you'll be the one who decides what life is worth."
She tilted her head. "That sounds scary."
"It should be," he said simply. "If you ever stop fearing it, you'll forget what it means to care."
Her eyes softened. "You sound like an elder."
He smiled faintly. "Then let me sound older one more time."
The wind shifted — petals danced between them.
"When you lead them," he said, "don't measure worth by power or purity. Every life — even the smallest, even the weakest — means something to someone. The one you think worthless may be the reason another still breathes."
Sylaphine blinked. The words clung to her chest.
"The ones I fear most," he continued, his voice turning low, "are those who've lost that reason. The ones who no longer fear death. Because they lost their meaning to live."
Her breath caught. "That's… a strange thing to fear."
He turned his head toward her then, and the light caught him fully — white hair like snow dusted in gold, eyes a piercing blue that mirrored the sky.
His smile was kind, but there was a loneliness to it — one she wouldn't understand for millennia.
"Never make the mistake," he said softly, "of stealing someone who was someone else's life — the one thing that kept them in this world. Because once they lose that…"
He paused — and the wind itself seemed to hush.
"…they stop being afraid of death. And those are the enemies even gods should fear."
I never knew that one action would change the fate of the world forever…
Sylaphine's Perspective:
I narrowed my gaze upon him.
The question he asked me… it wasn't accusation — it was dissection.
He wasn't seeking an answer. He was testing my soul.
"Who is this Elfie?" I asked, folding my arms, letting the air hum faintly with my mana.
"Elfina Lunaris." His voice was measured, each word deliberate. "Top student of Asura Academy. The same one your spy infiltrated."
…Elfina Lunaris.
I couldn't show it, but I knew of her.
If I reveal anything, it's over. He's laid a trap somewhere — subtle, precise. I must drag this conversation long enough to find it.
Quietly, through telepathy, I whispered to my kin,
'Search the labyrinth. Every vein, every corridor. Report any disturbance.'
At the same time, I began tugging at the miniature sun Lucas had forged within the core of my realm.
If that boy and Kaiser were scheming, then I'd drown their spark before it could ignite.
"Answer the question," Kaiser said.
"I don't know where this is coming from," I replied evenly, forcing a hint of confusion into my tone. "You're asking something out of nowhere."
He tilted his head slightly, the faintest trace of mockery brushing his lips.
"Oh? Then you aren't aware of the Asura Crisis?"
My brow tightened. "I am aware. It happened years ago — a tragedy that claimed countless lives within the capital. Somehow, those beasts bypassed the city's barriers. It was… a sorrowful day."
"Yes. Multiple A to S-rank monsters. Appearing without warning. Students, civilians — all torn apart. A slaughter… disguised as misfortune."
My voice dropped a note colder. "What do you mean, disguise?"
He finally looked up fully — and I met those eyes.
Pale blue, but empty. Not lifeless — drained.
"The monsters didn't rampage. They moved with a strategy — grouping, surrounding, striking the most concentrated clusters of mages and scholars."
He took a step forward.
"Odd, isn't it? Creatures without minds, working together. Leading each other."
"And what of it?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, queenly. "What does that have to do with me?"
Kaiser's expression didn't change, but something in the air did.
His eyes dimmed — from cold sky-blue to something darker, hollow and infinite.
"Someone led them inside," he said quietly. "To slaughter the young — the gifted. Tell me, Sylaphine…"
"Do you know why that academy was founded in the first place?" He leaned in slightly.
I remained still, even as my thoughts raced.
My kin's voices murmured faintly in my head — no anomalies, the labyrinth remains untouched.
So he was stalling me too.
But about his question…
Of course I knew the truth.
"They were preparing," I said, my tone smooth as glass. "For the coming war. The peace pact's expiration was nearing. Every race was stockpiling power, readying for the inevitable slaughter. The Emperor's bloodline was never naive — he prepared ahead of time. Am I wrong?"
He nodded once. "You're correct."
"Someone orchestrated it all… during graduation day."
My breath slowed.
…He knows.
Does he know about the cult? About the pact? About the invitation day?
I kept my expression perfectly still, even as his tone began to feel like a blade grazing my throat.
"What do you know?" I asked, voice calm but eyes sharp.
"The Cult of Nemesis," he replied. His words were steady — deliberate. "They orchestrated it. Every murder, every corpse. Their reasons? Gruesome enough to slaughter the innocent… even the children."
My gaze faltered, only for a heartbeat. So, he truly pieced it together. Ivy did mention he was an anomaly — the quiet invisible type who watched, not acted. Perhaps he had been holding back all along since The Academy.
He tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk curling on his lips. "And the monsters… don't you find them odd?"
"Odd?" I repeated, letting my tone drop an octave lower. "You mean how they moved together, strategized? Perhaps the cult controlled them. There must have been a leader pulling the strings."
"You're half right." His eyes — once blue, now almost colorless — met mine. "The way they fought… it mirrored something else entirely."
He stepped closer, unflinching, his presence heavy enough to silence even the air between us.
"Their killing… wasn't random. Every human they tore apart — every body they devoured — was done with intent. Like an offering. As if human life was nothing but currency. All of it… led by someone who desired power more than life itself. Someone helped by people, others still worship."
The words dug under my skin like cold iron.
I narrowed my eyes, my instincts screaming to defend. 'Helped by people worshiped by others…'
Without shifting my expression, I reached out to Aliana telepathically.
Status?
"All clear," came her voice. "The labyrinth is stable. The sun has collapsed, the wards hold strong."
Good. At least that much was secured.
And yet, his presence… it didn't fade. It only grew colder.
Then his question came — soft.
"Tell me, Sylaphine," he said, voice low and deliberate. "What is a life worth… to you?"
"You ask what a life is worth?" I say, my voice even, precise. "To me, it's the only thing that doesn't belong to us. We just hold it, for a while, until it returns to the stars.."
He snorts, thin and quiet. "Vague."
"Not vague." I fold the words around the idea until they are sharp. "Every life carries a purpose. Even the smallest life has a story. I can't decide who should live or die — I only know life itself matters. I've seen too many lives end before they could even start… I can't turn away from anyone. Everyone deserves a chance.."
He studies me, unblinking. "Do you love your kind, then?"
"My people are my charge," I say. "Each fairy, each Sylaris — they are my children. We argue, we test one another, but we are bound. We fight for one another first."
"The love between your kind is… charming," he murmured. "But that is not how I learned what life is."
He told it like a lecture at first, dry and measured, and then the calm peeled and something hollower came through.
"I never treated life as anything special," he said. "It was just—that for me, disposable. Helping others? A choice, not a duty. But Elfie… She was different. Always the first to rush toward someone in need, always willing to offer her kindness, her time, even when she had nothing to give. She never asked for thanks; she never demanded recognition."
"She believed that every heart, no matter how dark it seemed, had a spark worth protecting. That people were often misled, misguided, or broken—but never beyond reach. She forgave, not out of weakness, but because she saw that vengeance only hollowed the one who held it. And she thought I was the same—someone kind, with a pure heart, a good person.
"And she believed, truly, that no one's life was worthless—not a child, not a stranger, not even those who would harm others."
"She had that bright smile… that made me believe that too."
He paused. I watched his jaw, the way the muscles tightened as memory sharpened into pain.
"The Cult of Nemesis hunted her. Because they found her special. Their leader performed experiments upon her. They tore her life out in inches, absorbing the mana from her soul until her eyes were empty. They left a mockery of a body behind at the academy—staged, to deceive me. They wanted me to believe a lie."
"That she was already gone."
His voice dropped to a rasp. "I wasn't fooled. I found what was real. I saw what they left of her true self—cold, her smile was gone."
"I was too late."
He knew all about it then...
"What did they do to her?" I asked.
"They raped her," he said, his hands clentching into a fist. "Using monsters… Just to study her reactions. She was held in a place tied down. The Cult wanted to demonstrate they can take even the "special kind" and weaponize them as their own."
"When they found her body lacked enough mana… they didn't hesitate. Her broken defiled body was dragged before everyone, a demonstration. Their leader made sure I saw every inch of what they'd taken—and what they had left behind."
"Then killed her right in front of me."
…
"Some sins are unforgivable," he finished, his voice even, and the last word landed like a judgement. "No amount of kindness can bring back what was taken from her."
Kaiser shrugs, and for a heartbeat, his blue eyes seem to flicker into void-black… or maybe that's just my mind playing tricks.
"You're probably wondering why I'm laying all this out," he says, voice calm, almost casual, as if recounting the weather instead of horror.
I nod, unsteady. "Is it… vengeance you're after, for what they did to her?"
A shadow of a smile curls at the corner of his lips. "Patience. That comes soon enough. But before we get there… answer me."
"To my previous questions. What would you do to those who harm your kind?" His tone is as slow as winter.
I suppose it's better I don't overthink what happened earlier and keep focus.
My lips thin. "Even then. You don't destroy something just because it can hurt. You try to keep it alive anyway… maybe so it can learn, maybe so someone else won't have to.."
"But mercy has limits. Innocent to me does not mean innocent to my kind. If you cross them intentionally, you forfeit the courtesy of a second chance. My people come first. Every avatar knows this."
He nods as if reciting a lesson. "You understand your role. Every race keeps an avatar — their God. Let's see..."
I watch him list them, each title falling like a verdict:
"The Demon Lord, ruler of the Demons."
"The Verdant Sovereign, guardian of the Elves."
"The Creator, protector of the Dwarves."
"The Wildfang Patriarch, spirit of the Beastkin tribes."
"The Draconic Emperor, eternal heir of flame and scale."
"And lastly… you — Sylaphine, Eternal Keeper of the Fairies."
Each title settles in the air.
"Yes," I answer, the word small and absolute. "Those are the masks they wear. Each protects their world as I protect mine."
He watches me carefully, that hollow calm in his blue eyes.
"Good," he says at length, almost gently. "Then you know what I hunt — and why."
Hunt? What does he mean by that… What is he hunting for? I felt my pulse tighten.
"Now then, Sylaphine," he said, voice low, deliberate, "tell me this. These gods — worshiped by their people. Respected. Feared. Loved. Seen as figures of ultimate authority…"
I blinked, waiting, silent.
"Can they do whatever they desire? Without consequences." His pale eyes bored into mine.
I narrowed my gaze but said nothing.
"Can judgment reach those," he continued, "who seek only to harm others for their selfish reasons? Those who commit sins that carve darkness into the very soul — darkness the world has never known?"
I don't understand…
He stepped closer, his smile faint but monstrous, a predator savoring the hunt.
"Consider the barrier… a construct meant to endure thousands of mages, sustained by divine will alone. Its resilience speaks of mastery over forces most cannot even touch. Familiar, isn't it? The Sovereign of Elves… her divinity alone could erase magic, bend it to nothing. If one so powerful wished… aiding the cult would have been nothing more than a child's guess"
My chest tightened. My heart thudded.
Impossible… but he's saying it. He's…
"And the monsters," he said next, cold and precise, "the sheer multitude of demonic entities that poured into that place… even if controlled by the cult, someone must have orchestrated their gathering. Perhaps the Demon Lord of the dead itself… lending its hand."
I felt my throat go dry.
How… how could he have pieced this together? I stammered in my head.
"The communications within Asura… teleportation systems blocked. Ingenious. Almost… technological. Surely within the capabilities of the Dwarvian Creator."
"And the healing… even the most potent potions failed. Healing magic being useless. Blood itself refused to mend." His eyes glinted with detached murderous intent. "An oddity, isn't it? Perhaps a trick only the Royal Dragonic bloodline, or their Emperor alone, could wield."
This… he… he's figured it all out…
"And the way the monsters fought — their instincts, their speed, their strength… far beyond average. Enhanced. Likely aided by the Beastkin's avatar, the Wildfang Patriarch."
I felt my knees weaken under the weight of comprehension.
My wings twitched involuntarily. My breath came in shallow gasps.
Kaiser's smile — cruel, precise, filled with cold vengeance — stretched across his face.
Aliana! I whispered in my mind. Everything… safe?
"Yes, Lady Sylaphine. The labyrinth is secure. No anomalies."
I exhaled slowly, forcing my composure back into place, though the shiver of awe and unease still ran along my spine.
The labyrinth, my precious heart of control, was untouched. My wings held. My fairies reported all as safe.
I no longer needed to stall.
He is terrifying. His intelligence… unmatched. And yet… I see no fear, no mercy, only vengeance. Even so.. He is only a mortal. A human being that can fall upon death.
"I… see," I said softly, letting the words fall into the tense air, my mind still racing. "You've unraveled everything… faster than I could even begin to suspect."
"All those beasts poured into the capital in an instant — like they were folded through a gate. The same kind of space-shift you used on me. The same portal that let the cult butcher them." His eyes darkened.
"It's not coincidental, Sylaphine."
"Your crimes in this world."
"Oh?" I let the single syllable drip with amused surprise. "So you trapped me as well?" The corner of my mouth lifted. I no longer needed to pretend. The labyrinth was safe; my wings stood guard steadily. I could afford honesty — or at least, a more dangerous kind of truth.
"Why…? Tell me why you assisted in such a massacre." he asked.
"Simple really… They were a liability. The Asura Empire's sorcerers would have become our enemies tomorrow. Cutting them out early was…practical. They weren't of our blood, so their deaths meant nothing to us."
"Nothing to me."
It started small, then broke into something sharper, delighted and cruel.
"Hahah." I let it fracture. "You unravel threads well, cockroach. But tell me—what will a jumped up man like you achieve against gods, us The Avatars?" I leaned forward, mocking softness on my tongue.
"Will you march to each avatar and demand apologies? Beg for absolution on your knees? How naïve."
Kaiser's face shifted in a way that chilled me — the tip of his tongue flicked, hungry. Then that wrong smile unfolded, wide and obscene, teeth flashing. He leaned forward.
"Apologies?" he said, slow and mocking. "You have… poor taste in vengeance." He tilted his head. "You want to hear what I would do, do you not? Very well. I shall enlighten you."
Shadow pooled at his palm and folded into a dagger, black and deliberate. He raised it without hurry.
"It will mark the beginning of an never-ending torture," he said, each syllable precise. "A torment that will follow them so long as they exist."
"Not a single God will escape the crimes they've committed."
He leveled the blade toward me. "It begins with you."
I smiled.. "Hunt?" I asked. "If you are as relentless as you claim, then I wouldn't mind the amusement."
"Answer my first question."
His eyes bled from blue to void-black, and something in the air went cold.
I laughed — and settled the bo‑staff across my arms, every muscle ready. Nothing held me now.
"Yes," I said, voice low and sure. "I helped take your Elfie from this world. Had she survived, I would have ended her life again without a second thought."
"She was a worthless scrap of life that meant nothing to the world I envisioned. What happened to her was inevitable, and deserved."
He muttered, quiet as a closing maw: "The Hunt Begins."
The room narrowed into two truths facing each other.
The Vengeful Hunter — vs — The Mother of Fairies.