The room was warm.
Orange light from the fireplace painted soft colors across the walls while rain tapped gently against the windows of the mountain estate. Curled beneath a blanket, a young girl slept peacefully with a smile on her face, her parents cuddling beside her.
Her life had always been simple.
Her father was one of the Ten Dragons in the world—the Ember Dragon—whose flames were said to burn even oceans into ash. Although the girl had no understanding of what that meant.
Her mother was one of the last remaining vampires in existence. Yet despite the fear both races inspired, they treated her not as an heir or a weapon, but simply as their daughter.
A daughter who made mistakes. A daughter who cried when she got hurt. A daughter who was sometimes naughty and scolded by parents who loved her very much.
She had not yet awakened her powers.
People expected greatness from her. Servants whispered that a child born from those bloodlines would one day shake the world.
Her parents only smiled whenever they heard such things and told her she could awaken whenever she wanted.
Her father would carry her on his shoulders and show her distant mountain ranges while they flew through the air.
Her mother would read stories beside her bed and brush her hair while telling her about stars and ancient kingdoms. The girl believed nothing in the world could ever change, because adults always seemed so strong.
---
The next morning, sunlight flooded the mountain peaks.
The girl ran through the estate with a loaf of bread clutched in her hands.
"Slow down!" a servant called after her.
She ignored them.
Her laughter echoed through the halls.
A moment later, she burst onto one of the outdoor balconies. Wind greeted her immediately. Far below stretched endless forests. Above floated clouds.
Standing near the edge of the balcony was her father. He had red hair and wore a suit every day. The young man turned around. His eyes were slit, but the smile he gave her was as warm as the morning sun.
"There you are."
The girl grinned. "Dad!"
She launched herself forward.
He caught her effortlessly.
As always.
She had never once questioned whether he would.
Her father laughed. "What are you doing running around so early?"
"I'm hungry."
"You already ate."
"I'm hungry again."
He stared at her. She stared back.
Several seconds passed.
Then both of them burst out laughing.
Her father shook his head. "You're impossible."
The girl smiled proudly. She took that as a compliment.
The next moment, flames exploded around them. Brilliant golden fire swirled through the sky.
The girl giggled.
Her father rolled his eyes. "Hold on."
Before she could respond, they leapt.
The mountain vanished beneath them.
The girl squealed happily. Wind rushed through her hair as they soared across the sky. Below them, entire mountain ranges stretched toward the horizon. Rivers glittered like silver threads. Forests appeared like endless green oceans.
The world felt huge. Beautiful. Endless.
The girl spread her arms. "I'm flying!"
Her father laughed. "No." A pair of massive draconic wings appeared behind him. Golden fire illuminated the heavens. "I'm flying."
The girl pouted. Her father laughed harder.
---
Later that evening, she sat beside her mother in the estate library. Rain tapped gently against the windows once more. A book rested in her lap.
"Again," the girl said, pointing at the book.
Her mother smiled. "We've read this one six times."
"Again."
"Sweetie..."
"Again."
Her mother sighed dramatically. The girl grinned. Victory.
Opening the book once more, her mother began reading. Stories of fallen kingdoms. Stories of ancient heroes. Stories of forgotten lands.
Eventually, the girl looked up. "Mom?"
"Yes?"
"What was your home like?"
The question caught her mother off guard. For a moment, silence filled the room. Then a small smile appeared.
"It was beautiful."
The girl's eyes sparkled. "Tell me."
Her mother looked toward the rain-covered window. "At night, the rivers reflected the stars."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Were there dragons?"
Her mother laughed. "No."
The girl gasped dramatically. "No dragons?"
"No dragons."
"That's impossible."
Her mother smiled. "I thought so too when I first met your father."
The girl giggled.
For the next hour, her mother told stories—stories about places that no longer existed, stories about people long gone, stories she had only shared with her daughter.
When she finished, the girl yawned. Her eyes slowly closed.
Her mother gently brushed her hair—the same way she always did.
"Sleep well, sweetie."
The girl smiled. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Then darkness took her.
Neither of them knew that this would be the final night of peace they would ever experience.
Because when life is at its best, fate rears its ugly head and strips us of what we desire.
---
The mountain shook violently. Windows shattered inward with a deafening crash that snapped the girl awake. Her sleepy eyes opened slowly before widening in confusion.
"...Mommy?"
Her bedroom door was open. Standing there was her mother.
She looked normal at first. Her gentle smile was still there, and her silver hair still flowed neatly over her shoulders. But the girl noticed something strange—there was red on her dress. A lot of red. And smoke lingered all around her.
Her mother quickly stepped forward before the girl could speak. "Honey."
Her voice was soft. The girl had never heard her mother raise her voice or speak in anger.
She blinked and pointed. "Mom… why are your clothes dirty?"
Her mother stared for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, this?" She laughed quietly and wiped at the blood. "I made a little mess, and Daddy is outside taking care of it."
The girl nodded. Adults always knew what they were doing.
Her mother walked over and pulled her into a warm hug. For some reason, her body felt cold as ice. She was shaking.
And before the girl could ask—
The world changed.
The room disappeared. The mountain disappeared.
Suddenly, they stood in the middle of an endless forest beneath a dark sky, the stars their only source of light.
The girl looked around with wide eyes. Trees stretched endlessly in every direction, and the air smelled unfamiliar. This was her first time inside a forest. She had only ever seen them from the sky while flying with her father.
She looked up. "Mom?"
Her mother squeezed her hand. "We're going for a walk."
"Right now?"
"Right now."
"...Okay."
The girl looked around again. "Where's Dad?"
Her mother looked ahead, still smiling. "Don't worry, honey." Her hand tightened slightly. "Daddy's just taking care of something." She smiled again. "He'll be here soon."
The girl smiled back. That answer was enough. What reason did she have not to believe her mother?
So they walked.
They walked through the silent forest for what felt like forever. Her mother pointed out flowers and talked about random things while the girl spoke happily about what she wanted to do tomorrow. It was much more enjoyable than the girl had expected. She got to see and touch things she had only read about in books. She was very happy.
But as they walked, she noticed something.
Her mother never looked behind them. Not once. Even during the distant explosions and the sounds of erupting flames, she simply kept walking forward with a smile on her face.
After nearly an hour of nonstop walking, they stopped.
A magic circle stood ahead of them. Figures emerged from it—rows and rows of men in red armor with black capes. Had it been any other day, the girl would have thought they looked cool. But the expression on her mother's face told her otherwise.
The forest became silent.
One of the armored men stepped forward and slowly clapped. "Well done." His voice was muffled beneath the helmet but still echoed. "To think you managed to last this long, princess."
More people stepped forward.
The girl looked up. "Mom?"
Her mother did not answer.
The man lowered his head toward the girl. "Gaining the protection of the Ember Dragon is no easy feat. Oh, look at that—you even managed to have a child with him." The man chuckled. "Hope she isn't as loud as you."
He raised his hand. In perfect sync, the men behind him raised theirs. Magic circles appeared across the entire forest. One. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. One hundred. Layers of barriers stacked endlessly across the sky. Each one strengthened the next. Each one resisted different attributes. Escape was impossible.
The man laughed. "We finally found you."
Another stepped forward. "The dragon isn't here."
Another. "No witnesses."
Another. "Begin collection."
The girl blinked. Collection?
Her mother stepped forward. Her smile had completely disappeared. She moved the girl behind her.
One of the men laughed. "So this is the child?"
Another leaned closer. "She doesn't look special."
Another. "She's half vampire, half dragon."
Another. "Wonder if she screams like the others."
Another. "She'll make a fine specimen."
One of the men punched another on the arm.
"Idiot, you know we can't do anything with them. They asked us to bring her."
The man responded, "I know, I know. But it's such a shame to let specimens like theafter to people like that."
The girl didn't understand. Who were they?
She looked up. "Mom?"
Nobody answered.
The man in front snapped his fingers. Before anyone could blink, red chains rose from the ground, wrapped around her mother's limbs, and pulled her back. Her mother tried to resist, but the more she struggled, the more chains appeared.
The girl tried to run to her mother, but one of the men pulled her back.
"Let me go! Let me go!" the girl screamed, struggling with all her might.
"Tch, you little runt."
Before anyone could react, the man struck her. The blow knocked the girl to the ground. Pain exploded through her head. She curled up, hands pressed to the injury as tears leaked from her eyes.
"Shut it, kid. This doesn't even qualify as discipline compared to what they're going to do with you."
His voice sounded irritated, as if he didn't want to be there but had been forced to come.
Then—his head was separated from his body.
For a second, nobody reacted. Then blood sprayed across the forest. The severed head hit the ground with a loud thunk.
When the girl looked up, she saw her mother. Her arms and legs were stained with blood, and she was no longer smiling.
Her voice came out soft. Very soft. It sent a chill down the girl's spine.
"...You can insult me." The forest temperature dropped. "...You can chase me." Mana spread quietly. "...You can even try to kill me."
Her smile faded. But when she looked at the severed head of the man who had hit the girl, her eyes turned red.
"...But don't touch my daughter."
And for the first time in her life, the girl saw her mother angry.
Her mother quickly turned to her and knelt. "Sweetie," she spoke in a calm voice, "do Mommy a favor and close your eyes. Can you do that?"
"...Okay," the girl responded, sniffing. Her mom rubbed the bump on her forehead, and the pain disappeared.
"Okay, now count to four for me."
"Okay."
She covered her eyes with her hands and began counting.
"One." The screams began immediately. Dozens. Hundreds. The sounds echoed throughout the forest. Men cried out. Some begged. Some simply vanished.
The girl covered her ears. Her body trembled.
"Two." The forest shook violently. An enormous pressure swept across the land. Trees collapsed. Distant mountains trembled. The barriers overhead cracked, then shattered.
"Three." The screams grew fewer. The sounds of battle faded. The pressure slowly disappeared, and only silence remained.
"Four."
The girl slowly lowered her hands. The forest had changed. The soldiers were gone. The barriers were gone. Even the landscape itself looked different—the ground had become smooth and flat, as though some giant hand had erased everything in sight.
Only her mother remained, standing alone beneath the stars. Smiling the same loving smile she always wore.
"There." She walked over and patted her daughter's head. "All done."
The girl looked around. "Where did they go?"
Her mother remained silent for a moment. "They left."
The answer sounded strange, but the girl trusted her. So she nodded. "Okay."
Her mother took her hand. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe."
The girl looked around before asking, "What about Dad?"
Her mother's smile faltered for only a second before returning. "He'll be waiting."
The girl smiled. That answer was enough. So they walked.
---
Hours later, they reached a small cabin hidden deep within the mountains.
The moment they stepped inside, her mother collapsed.
The girl froze. "Mom?!"
Red liquid stained the floor. Far too much red liquid.
The silver-haired woman laughed weakly. "I suppose..." She coughed. "...I'm a little tired."
The girl rushed forward, tears filling her eyes. "You said you were okay!"
"I lied." The answer came with a smile.
The girl began crying. Her mother gently pulled her into her lap, just like she had when the girl was younger. Whenever she had bad dreams, her mother would always do this. It always calmed her down, and before she knew it, she would fall asleep.
This time, though, the girl wasn't falling for it. Her mother was hurt. The idea of falling asleep nearly made her sick.
Eventually, her mother looked down.
"Sweetie."
The girl raised her head.
"If something happens to me..."
"No."
"...listen carefully."
"No."
"You have to be brave."
The girl shook her head. Tears streamed down her face. "No."
Her mother's hand brushed through her hair.
The girl clenched her fists. "I don't want to be brave."
For some reason, that answer made her mother smile—a genuine smile. "Good."
The girl blinked. "What?"
"Never seek power for its own sake." Her crimson eyes softened. "Power without love only creates monsters."
The girl didn't understand. She didn't want to understand. She just wanted her mother to get better.
"Mom..."
Her mother gently touched her chest. "And monsters are hunted by people. You are my daughter so naturally, you're going to be strong."
Her mothers smile faded.
"But promise me, you won't make the same mistakes I made. you'll use that strength to protect others."
The girl listened quietly.
"Can you promise me that?"
The girl immediately nodded. "I promise."
Her mother smile returned. A tear rolled down her cheek. "Good girl."
Silence followed. The sun slowly began to rise. Golden light entered through the cabin window, giving a false sense of hope.
For a brief moment, everything felt peaceful.
Her mother leaned against the wall, looking at the sunrise before turning to her daughter's sobbing face. Then she spoke one final time.
Her mother spoke her name.
"Yes, Mom. I'm here."
"...I love you."
The girl immediately smiled through her tears. "I love you too."
Her mother closed her eyes. Still smiling.
The girl waited.
Several seconds passed, then a minute, then another.
She gently tugged on her sleeve. "Mom?"
Her mother didn't answer.
The girl frowned. She's just sleeping. That's all.
She shook her shoulder. "Mom."
Still no response. She tugged a little harder.
"Mom."
Confusion slowly appeared on her face. She remembered reading something in one of her books—a story about a knight. The knight had closed his eyes and never opened them again. The book had called it death.
The girl's body froze. "No."
Her voice trembled. "No."
She shook her mother harder. "Mom!"
But there was still no response.
"Mom!"
Nothing.
The realization slowly settled into her heart—heavy and cold.
Her mother wasn't sleeping. She wasn't resting. She was dead, and she would not be coming back. Ever.
The woman who read her stories, who brushed her hair, who hugged her when she cried, who loved her more than anyone else in the world—was gone.
The girl broke.
Her cries filled the cabin. She wrapped her arms around her mother and cried until her throat hurt.
And still—the silver-haired woman never moved, never smiled, and never spoke again.
---
Hours passed. Or perhaps days. The girl didn't know, nor did she care. She remained beside her mother's body, refusing to move, refusing to leave.
Then—she heard footsteps. The cabin door exploded inward. Several armored figures entered. Red armor. Black capes. The same people from before.
The girl's body trembled.
One of them laughed. "Who's that brat?"
Another looked toward the corpse. "Tch. That's the Crimson Princess?"
They laughed.
The girl clenched her fists.
One of the soldiers approached. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her head upward. Pain shot through her scalp. "Look at me."
The soldier took off his helmet. "Your mother caused us quite a bit of trouble."
More laughter followed.
"Your father, only made it worse."
The girl glared at them. Hatred filled her chest. For someone who had never felt this emotion before, she didn't know how to react. All she knew was that she wanted them gone. She wanted her mother back.
The anger grew. And grew. And grew.
Then—it vanished.
Why? Because one of the soldiers kicked her mother's body. Her mother's body slid across the floor. The girl's eyes widened. Another kick followed.
Laughter echoed throughout the cabin. "Not so scary now."
They kicked and kicked, still laughing at the sight of her mother's motionless body. They even began cutting off parts of her body like some animal.
They never noticed her eyes beginning to glow. They never noticed her black hair slowly changing color. They never noticed the mana gathering around her.
Then—the world screamed.
A pillar of crimson light erupted into the heavens. The cabin vanished. The mountains vanished. The sky split apart. The continent shook. An unimaginable wave of magical energy exploded outward. Forests disappeared. Mountains crumbled. Entire regions were erased.
On that day, the whole world saw it. Instead of being greeted by the morning sun, they were met with a pillar of light that shook the very world. Even people on the other side of the planet, where it was night, could see the red hue of the pillar.
A colossal crimson barrier formed around the affected lands, stretching beyond the horizon and touching the heavens. No one could enter.
Inside it rained.
The world watched.
For fifty years, it rained.
---
The strongest heroes, knights, martial artists, mages—even with the help of one of the Ten Dragons—could not break the barrier.
Until finally, after fifty years, it opened.
A party of seven young individuals, led by a man with golden hair and crimson eyes, entered the barrier.
It was a horrifying sight—an endless bloody wasteland, a world consumed by grief. When they entered, they noticed it was raining. The rumors were true. Instead of water, what rained down was a sticky red liquid. Blood. It was raining blood from the heavens. The sky itself seemed to mourn the loss of life.
One of them, a mage with purple hair, put up a barrier to protect them from the blood. Beside her walked a silver-haired saint carrying a crystal staff. A swordsman wearing a simple hanfu remained at the front, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A martial artist with broad shoulders silently observed the ruined landscape. Near the rear stood a young man with long pointy ears, a bow strapped to his back, giving off an aura of elegance.
Despite their strength, none of them looked relaxed. This place felt wrong. The air itself felt heavy. Every breath carried a suffocating pressure.
They walked for hours upon hours. Then they saw her.
A lone figure floating high above the ruined world. Her crimson hair flowed like a river. She was a small girl, yet a sea of magical power radiated from her body—enough to crush nations, enough to drown the world itself.
The group stopped. Nobody spoke. Even from this distance, they could feel it. Her mana stretched across the wasteland like an endless ocean.
The swordsman clenched his fist. The saint tightened her grip on her staff. None of them had ever felt pressure like this.
Only the blonde-haired man continued walking.
"Hey."
The girl didn't respond. Her eyes remained shut as tears flowed from them.
The man frowned. "HEY."
His voice echoed throughout the wasteland, yet the girl still didn't respond.
"Tch."
The blonde-haired man took another step. The moment he did, the pressure intensified. The ground began to crack as the rain of blood stopped midair before turning into mist. An invisible force kept pulling him down, but he didn't back down.
His crimson eyes began to glow with a silver light as golden mana erupted from his body. A brilliant aura exploded outward as the wasteland trembled. The pressure surrounding him weakened.
The girl's power had not weakened. In fact, it only seemed to increase. The man was simply pushing back against it with his own mana.
Step. Step. Step.
Each step became harder than the last. His aura expanded again. Golden light illuminated the crimson world.
Then—his feet left the ground. Mana surged beneath him. The blonde-haired hero slowly rose into the air, floating higher and higher until he was level with the lonely figure in the sky.
The distance between them gradually disappeared.
The girl still didn't react. Her eyes remained closed. Tears continued falling.
The blonde man eventually stopped only a few meters away. For the first time, he could see her clearly. She wasn't angry. She wasn't murderous. She was simply crying—a child all alone in the crimson wasteland. Broken would be a more accurate description.
The man reached out his hand, attempting to touch the girl, but the instant his hand was mere inches away from her face, he was punched back by a force so powerful that he was thrown to the ground in seconds.
As he got up, he noticed his shoulder hurt. He looked over and saw that his arm had been severed from his body.
His party members quickly ran to him.
"Let me heal your injuries," said the saint as she reached out. Her hands began to glow faintly as the torn flesh around his shoulder regenerated.
The blonde man thanked her and quickly stood again. He began advancing toward the girl once more.
The swordsman grabbed his shoulder. "Stop this! There's nothing you can do!"
But—"Do you expect me to leave a child alone?!" the blonde man shouted.
The swordsman was left speechless. Still, the blonde man kept advancing.
Again, he released his magical energy. His eyes shone like silver. His mana clashed with the girl's torrent of power.
He levitated himself toward her.
"Hey, why are you crying?"
The girl didn't respond.
"Give it up," the red-haired mage shouted.
The blonde man simply gave him a stern look and turned back to the girl. He stretched out his hand. Cuts began to form on it, but he didn't stop reaching out.
He shook the girl, and she finally reacted. Her crimson eyes slowly opened and met his gaze.
---
Who is he?
Through her teary eyes, the girl looked at the man with blonde hair touching her. Was he another one of those men who had come to capture her and her family? If so, he should just turn back.
Her mother was dead. Her father was missing. And she… well, she didn't care anymore. Everything she had ever held dear had been taken from her.
"Are you alright?" The blonde man had a voice as calm as waves on a beach.
"Go away." The girl's voice was filled only with sorrow.
The man looked as if he had expected anger, so he appeared perplexed when she responded with despair instead of rage.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then—"Leave."
The girl waved her hand, and a shockwave exploded outward, shooting the man through the crimson wasteland.
Her eyes widened. She had wanted him to leave, not hurt him. Her eyes began to tear up more.
Why? Why did this happen again?
From the girl's perspective, she was the reason for her mother's death. If her mother hadn't come for her, maybe she would still be alive. And even when her mother took her away, she should have been braver. She shouldn't have cried when that man hit her. If she hadn't, maybe her mom wouldn't have exerted herself.
The girl blamed herself for everything.
As the dust slowly settled, a figure emerged. The blonde man was still standing.
The blonde man continued walking toward her before leaving the ground. He made his way toward her again.
"Okay, it seems we got off on the wrong foot," the man said as he brushed the dust off his coat. "I asked who you are before even introducing myself."
The man gave a light bow. "I am Lucius Morningstar. It's a pleasure to meet you. May I ask for your name in return?"
The girl stared at him quietly. She didn't understand. She had pushed him away. She had hurt him. His arm had disappeared, and yet he still came back and was talking to her like none of that had happened.
"...Who are you?"
The man blinked before giving a small smile. "I said it already." He placed a hand against his chest. "Lucius Morningstar."
He looked at her for a moment before tilting his head. "Can I ask your name too?"
The girl lowered her eyes and kept quiet. Yet the man didn't leave. He simply waited.
After a long silence, she finally answered and told him her name.
"What a lovely name."
The girl tilted her head slightly, but the man just kept smiling.
"So, isn't it cold up here? Don't you wish to come down where it's warm?" He stuck out his hand. "If you want, I'll bring you down here." He chuckled. "That is, if you allow it."
The girl looked at the hand stretched toward her. She stared at it quietly but didn't take it. Instead, she looked at the man's face and asked softly, "...Why?"
Lucius blinked. "Why what?"
Her eyes lowered. "...Why are you helping me?"
The man looked surprised for a moment before thinking about it. Eventually, he just shrugged. "...You looked lonely."
The girl's fingers moved slightly.
After a while, she spoke again. "...My mom is dead." Her voice stayed quiet. "...My dad disappeared." She looked at him. "...I don't understand why you're here."
Lucius looked at her for a moment before lowering his hand. "...You don't have to."
The girl blinked.
The man smiled. "...I just saw a child crying. So I told myself I would help."
Silence followed. Blood continued falling from the sky.
The girl looked down at the red world beneath them before quietly speaking.
"...I don't want to stay here anymore."
---
Some years from that day, the world gave her a name—a name that represented the thousands upon thousands of lives she had taken by mistake, and the lives she would take later on by her own choice.
The Blood Tyrant.
Every battle she faced would always end in blood.
But the names didn't stop there. As time went on, people created other names for her.
The Calamity of Crimson Rain.
The Child of Misfortune.
But before she became a legend, before she became a nightmare, before the world learned to fear her—she had another name.
A much simpler name.
The name her mother used whenever she smiled. The name her father called while carrying her through the skies. The name of a little girl who once sat beside a fireplace listening to stories. The name of a little girl who would never see her parents again.
Luna Dragonheart.