Narisva's expression froze for a moment, her calm and confident demeanor slipping as she looked at him, truly looked at him, as if she were trying to piece together the enigma that was Vastarael Richinaria.
Her lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. The firelight cast shadows across her face, making her seem older than her years, a reflection of someone who understood the weight of Vastarael's words far more than she wanted to admit. Finally, she exhaled, her gaze dropping to the flickering flames.
"You're not wrong, But... that doesn't make it any easier to accept. And if death is the only thing waiting at the end, then we fight tooth and nail to make sure we control how it ends. That's what the girl in my story did."
She straightened her posture, the familiar edge of confidence creeping back into her tone as she continued.
"After the death of her parents, the girl had only one thing left. Revenge. She burned with it, like a star that refused to be extinguished. It didn't take long for her to uncover the truth. One of her stepmothers, along with her sons, had orchestrated the assassination. They killed her father and destroyed her mother. And for that, they would pay."
Narisva leaned forward, her voice taking on a sharp intensity.
"The girl's blood was Celestial, her powers vast, but she was still young. She knew she couldn't fight them on her own. So she turned to the only place that could give her what she needed. The Forgotten Library, a place hidden in the ruins of the Dynasty's ancestral home, locked away by bloodline magic that only she and her father could access. Her father had shown it to her once long ago, calling it the 'Vault of Stars.'"
"The library was filled with forbidden knowledge, ancient texts and mystic circles thought to have been lost to time. And in its depths, she found a Celestial Circle. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, a design so intricate and radiant it felt alive. But the warnings were clear. Casting it would summon a dead Celestial soul into existence, a being of raw power and chaos. If the circle wasn't executed perfectly, the caster would die. And even if it succeeded, controlling the soul would be a nearly impossible task."
"And she thought she could summon something that dangerous?"
"She didn't just think she could do it. She knew she had to. Because nothing else in this world would be enough to destroy her enemies. So, she prepared. For an entire year, she studied the circle, mastering its intricacies, gathering the rarest of materials needed to cast it. She turned her back on the Dynasty's politics, even as the succession descended into chaos, even as civil war broke out across the continent. She didn't care. Her focus was absolute."
Her fingers traced invisible patterns into the dirt at her side, mimicking the precision the girl would have needed.
"But the price was steep. Casting the circle required a sacrifice of immense value. Something tied to the caster's very soul. Most would have balked at such a demand, but the girl... she had nothing left. Her parents were gone. Her home was fractured. Her people were at war. She was empty. So she decided to sacrifice her essence itself, every ounce of power she had as a Celestial."
Vastarael felt a chill crawl up his spine, but he didn't interrupt. Narisva's voice grew quieter.
"When the year was over, she returned to the palace ruins where her father had died. She carried his weapon with her, something only her father could wield. She poured everything she had into the circle, her body, her soul, her essence. And when she finished... the soul came."
Her hand stilled, the invisible patterns fading.
"It was chaos incarnate. It was a Celestial soul, untethered and furious at being ripped from the void. The girl's body couldn't handle it. She ruptured, her skin cracking, her veins burning with power far beyond her limits. She was nothing more than a shell by the time it was over, her life hanging by a thread. But even then, she didn't stop. Somehow, through sheer willpower, she rose to her feet and used her father's weapon to seal the soul inside the blade."
Vastarael's grip on his sapphire bowl tightened as he listened.
"Sealing a Celestial soul... that would require another sacrifice, wouldn't it?"
"It did," Narisva confirmed. "She had nothing left to give. Her essence was permanently gone. Her Soul Energy was spent. Nothing except... her heart. So, she cut it out using the weapon."
"..."
"With her own hands, she offered her heart to the blade. And in doing so, she became something else. Not quite alive, not quite dead. She lost her ability to feel anything beyond the hollow void of vengeance. But she succeeded. The soul was sealed and with the blade in her hand, she had the power to destroy everyone who had wronged her."
The fire crackled, its light casting sharp shadows across her face.
"The girl was no longer a girl after that. She was a weapon, forged by pain, sacrifice and hatred. And with that weapon, she set out to finish what she started."
Narisva fell silent, her eyes fixed on the flames.
"And what happened to her after she got her revenge?"
"After summoning the Celestial and sealing its soul into the blade, the girl was no longer who she used to be. Whatever innocence, whatever... pity she had left... it burned away the moment she took her first step toward revenge. And with the power of an ancient Celestial in her hands, no one could stop her.'
Her voice dropped, her tone sharper.
"She started with the Dynasty, her bloodline, the people who had betrayed her father and broken her family. One by one, she hunted them down, both the guilty and the innocent. It didn't matter to her anymore. To her, they were all complicit. They had watched her family fall and done nothing."
"She captured every single one of them; the stepmothers, their heirs and the nobles who had thrown their support behind the traitors. She didn't kill them immediately. No, that would have been mercy. She dragged the stepmothers into the ruins of the palace, the very place where her father had died, and for twenty-seven days straight, she tortured them."
Her words carried a chilling edge, painting a picture too vivid to ignore.
"Their screams echoed through the halls day and night, a sound so raw and unrelenting that it drove even her own captives mad. She didn't stop or rest. She broke them piece by piece., physically, mentally and spiritually, until there was nothing left of the proud women who had orchestrated her father's assassination. Their heirs, forced to watch every moment of their mothers' torment, begged for death. But she made them wait. Why would she listen to them? Did they listen to her when her mother was dying?"
"When the twenty-seventh day came, she delivered her final punishment. She took the stepmothers' souls and bound them to her blade. Their essence fueled the weapon, making it stronger. Then she turned to the heirs. She didn't just kill them. She annihilated them. She dismembered them limb by limb, slowly, forcing them to feel every second of their bodies breaking apart. The blade drank their blood and essence."
Her gaze flickered toward Vastarael, as if gauging his reaction, before she continued.
"Word of her brutality spread quickly of course. Soldiers hardened by years of war trembled at the mere mention of her name. People whispered that she wasn't human anymore, that she had become a monster. And they weren't wrong. She was a monster. And she didn't hate being called like that."
"But she wasn't done. The nobles who had allied themselves with the traitors, their families, their friends, their children, none were spared. She didn't discriminate. To her, innocence didn't matter. They were all guilty by association. Over forty-seven days, she purged the Dynasty and its supporters, tearing through the continent like a storm. Entire bloodlines were wiped out, their names erased from history. Those days came to be known as the Nemesis Countdown."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before adding,
"On the forty-seventh day of her revenge, she staged her final act. She gathered the bodies of the stepmothers and their heirs, all 47 of them, all Minor Gods, and impaled them on poles, creating a grotesque display in the center of the continent for all to see. Their mutilated corpses stood as a warning to anyone who would dare betray her family again."
"Forty-seven thousand soldiers loyal to the traitors stood against her, hoping to stop the bloodshed. They were wrong. She cut through them like wheat to a scythe, her blade cleaving through armor and bone as if it were nothing. She didn't spare a single one. By the end of that day, the battlefield was a sea of bodies, blood soaking the earth as far as the eye could see."
"She was covered in blood as the weapon absorbed all their souls. It was after that battle that the people gave her the title she would carry for the rest of her life. The Scourge of Nemesis. To some, she was a hero who avenged her family. To others, she was a monster who brought nothing but death and destruction. But to her... it didn't matter. She had achieved her revenge. And that was all she had left."
"Soon, she found out that her father has a concubine centuries ago and had a son with her at that time. Normally, the mother thought that the girl would kill her but she didn't. Instead, she took them in. She made a decision that shocked the continent. She did not want to rule a continent. She would act as its blade and the boy would be its ruler. And so, she made the boy the new Dynasty Monarch, who ruled gracefully and changed the continent completely."
Vastarael was silent.
"And so, the girl was free. She had avenged her father and cleaned his house. She would no longer be related to the Dynasty anymore. And so, she gave the Dynasty a new name. A name that would spell change in the continent."
"She named it Dynasty Starisnova, which meant 'Blessed By The Star' in ancient Celestial language. And so, a new era was born. At the age of eighteen, the girl was known to be the strongest divine being of the Third Generation. And she gave herself a new name too."
"She abandoned her name, Maisarisva Quasaria, to Narisva. Narisva Starisnova, the Scourge of Nemesis."