Eloven was the closest town to the Dusk Continent. Coinciding with the Gratitude Festival, residents from nearby areas had gathered from all directions, and the celebrations would last for several days.
By noon, the town was bustling with noise, the air thick with the mingled aromas of alcohol and food. Musicians played by the roadside, girls dressed in beautiful clothes strolled together in groups, their beaded and silver ornaments clinking softly. Laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a lively atmosphere.
A group of young men turned the corner. They wore light leather armor, with twin swords or daggers hanging at their waists, while others carried longbows and quivers. Their unsheathed blades glinted coldly in the sunlight.
They all had dark hair, pale bluish skin, and slender, pointed ears. Their footsteps were light, their movements agile.
Their unusual appearance and attire immediately caught Myma's attention.
This was Myma's first summer since moving to the Dusk Continent. Previously, she had been a citizen of the Buden Empire on the Dawn Continent, living in a small town under the jurisdiction of a major city—a place at the heart of the Church's influence. There, not only had she never seen a Nightkin in person, but even mentioning such terms was considered taboo.
Sophia, Myma's companion, noticed her reaction. "Those are the Nightkin," she whispered. "Be careful. Don't stare at them."
Before she could finish, the group seemed to sense their gaze and turned to look. Their eyes were sharp and focused, like predators observing prey in the forest.
The Deity of Darkness, Nyx, had left the Divine Realm thousands of years ago. The races she created now populated the Dusk Continent—elegant vampires, diverse beastkin, demons with innate elemental powers, and more. The Church's clergy viewed them as symbols of evil and madness, hence the collective term 'Nightkin'.
Dark elves were among them.
Realizing her rudeness, Myma quickly lowered her head in apology.
The dark elves didn't seem bothered. They grinned and waved before continuing their conversation, brushing off the minor incident.
Their skin and eye color set them apart from the high elves of the Dawn Continent, though they shared similarly striking beauty. Physically robust, nearly all of them were exceptional warriors.
As the dark elves strolled leisurely down the street, they conversed in rapid Demon Tongue, their accents making some words difficult to discern.
Myma could only catch a few fragmented phrases—the slurred speech and unfamiliar intonation completely threw her off.
This language was common among the Nightkin. Since the Deity of Darkness had first created the demons, they developed a concise means of communication, which later spread to the other Nightkin races.
Nowadays, even the human residents of the Dusk Continent were quite familiar with it.
The dark elves didn't seem to mind being overheard. As they passed the girls, one of them turned and said something. Sophia blinked, then replied briefly in Demon Tongue, which seemed to satisfy them before they walked away.
Myma had been learning Demon Tongue sporadically since moving here, but now she felt she needed to study harder.
Once the dark elves were out of earshot, Myma couldn't help but ask, "What were they saying? I thought I heard something about war?"
"Indeed," Sophia nodded, clearly having been listening as well. "There was a battle in the south... It just ended, and it sounded intense. That one asked if I knew about it, and I said, 'No, but I assume you won.'"
"The south?" Myma asked curiously. "Did the Church's forces land there? I heard the governor of the Southern Sea Warzone is a Quasi-Deity!"
The Deity of Darkness and her followers ruled the Dusk Continent, while the empires of the Dawn Continent were steeped in the Church's worship of the Deity of Light. The Church's power and influence even surpassed that of the imperial families.
Blessed with divine power, the Church's knightly orders far outmatched imperial armies. Some of the major cities even had Lesser-Deities and Quasi-Deities from the Deity of Light's ranks stationed in their temples.
In a way, the wars of the Dawn Continent were battles between deities.
For millennia, the forces of the Deity of Light and the Deity of Darkness had clashed repeatedly.
Battles took place on the Dusk Continent, in the seas between the continents, and beyond. Both Supreme-Deities had their followers—Lesser-Deities and Quasi-Deities—while the Church's knights and the Nightkin's legions stood as equals. Countless battles had been fought, and the war seemed endless.
"Hmm..." Sophia frowned, trying to recall the conversation. "They did fight at sea first, but part of the Church's forces bypassed the patrol routes and landed on the Dread Coast. It was chaos."
The Church's armies typically sailed from the Dawn Continent to the Dusk Continent's southern shores, as the terrain there was far less hostile than the western Great Rift or the northern snow-capped mountains.
"...Chaos?"
Sophia nodded. "To put it simply, a battle broke out on the shore. A Quasi-Deity from the Deity of Light's faction killed another Quasi-Deity who served the Deity of Darkness."
The Deity of Darkness had several Lesser-Deities and over a dozen Quasi-Deities under her command, though most residents of the Dusk Continent only knew a handful by name—after all, few had any direct contact with these fallen deities.
The Deity of Light would descend upon the Holy City to bestow blessings, and his followers appeared in other cities. More common were the Half-Deity archangels, whom the Dawn Continent's believers revered with fanaticism.
Some of Myma's former classmates could even recite the names of every known archangel—there were dozens of these Half-Deities.
The humans of the Dusk Continent paid little attention to the Half-Deity archdemons. Some might respect the Deity of Darkness, but only a fraction pledged their faith and joined her armies. It was entirely a matter of choice.
Myma had initially held no fondness for the Deity of Darkness or the Dusk Continent, but once she realized this, she found it far more tolerable than the Dawn Continent—where, under the Church's rule, people had no freedom of belief.
No matter what they truly thought, they were forced to display fanatical devotion and utmost reverence for the Deity of Light.
"So... did the Deity of Light win?"
"No, of course not," Sophia shrugged. "That Quasi-Deity might have killed his opponent, but according to those dark elves, he was quickly slain by His Excellency Blazegorn. I don't understand why the Church even sent troops here. Those soldiers must have had families—why come here to die?"
Myma fell silent at the name.
Many of the Dusk Continent's malevolent deities were infamous—the Deity of Curses, the Twin Deities of Suffering, the Deity of Plague, and others. These Lesser-Deities were deeply feared by the Church and the Deity of Light's followers.
As for the Deity of Fire, Blazegorn—
He was the Deity of Fire, the son of the Deity of Darkness, and the only deity said to have been born on the continent. He was the supreme commander of the Dusk Continent's legions, with countless divine slayings to his name and a reputation steeped in terror.
The Church both feared and despised him, branding him a symbol of corruption—a soulless, twisted monster with a devil's visage, a mindless slaughterer. Even the illustrations in their texts were enough to traumatize children.
"Honestly," Sophia said quietly, "I've never seen him myself, but I once spoke with some soldiers who came to my father's forge for weapons. They said His Excellency Blazegorn has a terrible temper—he rips the wings off angels, burns enemies to ashes... It sounds horrifying. None of them dared to meet his gaze because those who did... lost their eyes."
"Oh." Myma had witnessed countless executions of heretics—hangings, burnings, even dismemberments—so this didn't frighten her much. "At least he won't barge into my house just because I haven't sworn allegiance to the Deity of Darkness. That's good enough for me."
Sophia laughed. "Don't worry. Unless you pledge yourself to the Deity of Darkness, rise to become a warzone governor, or at least a knight commander, you'll probably never even get the chance to see him."
By lunchtime, Myma had wandered through the market, picking up supplies to restock her pantry. Goods here were cheap—thirty copper coins bought a crate of cheese and a small keg of ale, with a little extra for a jar of almond sweets. She also grabbed a few loaves of freshly baked bread before bidding Sophia farewell.
Carrying a straw-lined wooden crate, she walked along the path outside town.
Eloven sat on high ground, with roads leading to various villages. After a while, white stone houses bathed in sunlight came into view, alongside a glittering river and rolling green fields dotted with orchards and shaded by trees.
Spindle grass swayed in the garden breeze, roses bloomed wildly, and the vines on the fence needed trimming. But the usual chatter of sparrows on the roof was absent today.
Myma didn't pay it much mind. Hungry and tired, she headed to the kitchen, yawning as she sliced bread for toasting.
Then she heard something.
Pausing, she glanced around but found nothing amiss. The garden outside was quiet.
Shaking her head, she yawned again and resumed her search for food.
Suddenly—
THUD.
Something heavy hit the ground.
Then came a cacophony of crashes, as if objects were being shattered or thrown about.
Myma nearly dropped her spice jar. "...???"
Setting her things aside, she rushed downstairs to the storage room—and nearly fainted.
The first thing she saw was complete devastation, as if a whirlwind had torn through the room. Jars and bottles lay broken, their contents spilled everywhere—grain, shattered glass, splattered jam—all mixing into a sickly sweet mess.
Dizzy with anger, Myma was about to curse when a dark shape caught her eye—
A shadowy creature crouched atop her wooden crate.