The blood-stained sky held no sun, no moon, no stars; the entire world appeared drenched, as if saturated by a single drop of crimson ink.
The air was viscous, thick as congealed blood, pressing down against his chest and making every breath a labor. Rhine stood on that desolate expanse, surrounded by soldiers and monsters locked in melee—screams, roars, the brittle snap of bones, and the spray of blood woven together into a twisted, frantic symphony of nightmare.
He struggled to move, but his limbs felt shackled by millstones, forced to stand rigid, a captive observer of the carnage.
Not far off—his father, bound tight to a crucifix, his body torn asunder as beasts frenziedly devoured his flesh; his mother, kneeling in the dirt, her wails tearing through the air like a blunt saw grinding against bone.
"NO!!!" Rhine roared with every ounce of his strength, but it was like shouting from the depths of a swamp—not a single ripple stirred. He could only watch as his loved ones were torn apart and consumed, powerless to intervene.
Just as the despair threatened to swallow him whole—
A silver radiance pierced the horizon. It cascaded from the heights like a fracture splitting the blood-soaked sky. A calm, tender moonlight flowed down like a clear spring, softly dousing the gore-stained earth.
In an instant—the world froze.
The red mist retreated; the battle halted. The gruesome sight of his parents, the witch's laughter, the endless monsters and corpses—all dissolved in the light, as if they had never been.
Only that moon remained, hanging silently in the heavens.
From within the moonlight, a soft whisper drifted down:
"...Everything is past. You need suffer no more."
The voice was impossibly tender, like a breeze brushing over a wound. Tears slid silently from the corners of his eyes.
Rhine snapped his eyes open.
The first thing to enter his field of vision was a pair of eyes as clear as a mountain spring. They reflected the fragmented light of the forest, as well as his own dazed, lingering confusion.
Cascades of raven hair fell from her shoulders, spilling gently beside him. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her lips supple and flushed like a ripening cherry. Her long lashes fluttered, unable to hide the vibrancy and gentleness within her gaze.
And what he smelled—a faint, lingering sweetness, like freshly sliced apples, crisp yet subtly sugary. The scent seemed to emanate from her hair, her skin, even her very breath, leaving him dazed.
"Is this... her scent..."
"Rhine... are you alright?" Lunethia asked softly, her tone gentle and concerned, as if still lingering with the warmth of the moonlight from his dream.
Rhine came to his senses with a jolt, only then realizing that his head was resting in her lap.
Rhine's face flushed hot instantly. He scrambled up into a sitting position. "I—I'm fine! Where is this... we fell, didn't we?"
Memories flooded back like a tide—the collapsing cliff, the uncontrollable descent, and that final, terrifying glimpse of the cold, colossal crystal giant before he blacked out.
"That's right!" He exclaimed, alarm spiking in his chest. "We fell to the valley floor... what about that crystal monster? And the others?"
His tone was hurried, laced with anxiety. Lunethia, however, only offered a gentle smile, her expression calm and steady.
"It's all right," she said. "That thing is gone. But we are still at the bottom... as for the others, I don't know."
She paused, her gaze settling softly upon him. "You've been asleep for a day and a night."
Only then did Rhine take note of their surroundings: a forest hemmed in by sheer, towering cliffs. There was almost no visible way out.
"You must be hungry," Lunethia murmured. She picked up a moist, bright pink fruit from the ground and held it out to him. "Mr. Rabbit helped find this apple."
Rhine froze for a second, then gave a self-deprecating smile. So, that faint, lingering sweetness he had noticed earlier wasn't her fragrance at all—it was this fruit. He took it and bit down; crisp, sweet juice flooded his mouth with just a hint of tang.
"Thank you..." he muttered, feeling rather embarrassed. "No wonder I thought just now..."
"Thought what?" Lunethia tilted her head, blinking, her eyes flashing with a hint of playful mischief.
"N-nothing." Rhine quickly looked away, rushing to change the subject. "Have you looked for a way out?"
Lunethia shook her head lightly. "The cliffs are too steep; we're trapped. Mr. Rabbit scouted the perimeter... there's only one way: up."
"That's enough for me." Rhine stood, stretching his limbs. "I have a way to get us out. Give me a moment to prepare."
He gathered the leather patches he'd been crafting, carefully checking them for tears. Confident they were intact, he turned back to her and flashed a grin.
"We're going to fly."
"Fly?" Lunethia blinked, her expression filled with surprise and curiosity.
Rhine didn't elaborate. He pulled out a rope, binding their waists firmly together, then folded the leather into a pouch-like shape. He thrust his left hand inside, whispering as he concentrated his internal fire—
The next moment, a surge of searing heat churned within the leather, slowly inflating it. The cloth expanded bit by bit, resembling a makeshift balloon, wobbling gently in the air.
"Just hold on to me tight," Rhine said, his voice calm and focused.
Lunethia nodded, carefully cradling the white rabbit in her arms, and moved closer to him.
Rhine extended his right arm, gently wrapping it around her waist. At that instant, he visibly stiffened, his ear-tips flushing a warm shade of pink. His voice dropped an octave, strained and low.
"Th-this is for safety... to keep you from falling."
Lunethia didn't speak; she simply tucked herself closer to him.
As she was drawn into his embrace, Rhine couldn't help but bow his head slightly, his breath grazing her soft hair.
Strange... he thought. It's been days since she's had a bath... how is she still this fragrant?
Her scent was faint and delicate, carrying a trace of sweetness that was almost intoxicating, bordering on addictive. Just as he found himself drifting, lost in that subtle perfume—
"Rhine... why are you acting like a little puppy, sniffing my head over and over?" Lunethia whispered, her tone brimming with irrepressible, playful laughter.
"I—I am not sniffing!" Rhine, caught in the act, felt his face flare bright red. He stammered a defense, "I'm just... adjusting my breathing to control the flames!"
Lunethia couldn't help but laugh aloud, a clear, melodious sound. She nestled further into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, holding him just a little bit tighter.
The heat steadily accumulated, buoying their bodies as they lifted from the earth.
They rose above the ground, slipping through the intricate gaps between the branches, ascending steadily toward the valley rim. The wind brushed past them, carrying the crisp, cool scent of the forest floor.
The sensation of flight was lighter than anything Rhine had ever known.
Yet, despite this being his first true success at flight, Rhine's focus did not waver. He scanned their surroundings with eagle-eyed vigilance, constantly adjusting the intensity and direction of his flames, calculating the shifts in wind, thermal currents, and buoyancy.
Amidst that quiet, slow ascent, the girl in his arms spoke softly:
"Rhine... thank you."
"Thank you for what?" Rhine didn't take his eyes off the path ahead, his tone flat and professional. "You're one of us now. Saving you is only what I'm supposed to do."
Lunethia fell silent for a moment.
The sound of the wind flowed past their ears, and her voice grew lower, softer, carried away by the breeze:
"Then, if... one day... we were to become enemies?"
Rhine stiffened, his gaze momentarily tearing away from the distant wind patterns. "Why would you even ask that?"
Lunethia's voice was faint, almost swallowed by the rushing air: "I just wanted to know... what you would do."
Rhine's brow furrowed, his expression cooling instantly, as if she had crossed some boundary he was unwilling to discuss. He let out a curt, sharp snort, his tone devoid of hesitation:
"Then I'd kill you with my own hands, and burn you to ash."
The words fell flat, final, and cold. He did not look back, his eyes locked firmly on the changing currents and terrain ahead, as if he were merely delivering a standard combat assessment—no hesitation, no tremor of emotion.
And the girl in his arms? She merely offered a faint, gentle smile.
The smile was faint, like moonlight spilled upon water—still, rippleless, and unresponsive. She said nothing more, only burying her head deeper into his chest, her arms winding around him, holding him tighter still—as if, in this way, she could anchor the warmth and scent of this moment and keep it from being stolen away by the howling wind.
Rhine could not see her expression.
The wind whipped past them, and they rose steadily between heaven and earth, ascending past the layers of branches until they breached the sky.
When their feet touched solid ground again, they had reached the summit of Starfall Cliff.
A biting wind howled, and sleet—fine and sharp as needles—lashed against their faces, stinging at the contact. A vast, white void greeted them; snow blanketed everything. The traces of the previous battle had been long erased by the storm, as if nothing had ever transpired.
They looked toward the direction of their original shelter.
But the familiar cliff face was gone; the terrain felt rewritten by an invisible hand. The shelter itself was nowhere to be found, likely having plummeted into the valley during the earlier explosion, buried now with the remnants of the past.
Rhine scanned the surroundings, his expression hardening. "It seems they've already left. We should set off for the Royal Capital."
Lunethia nodded.
They did not linger. They simply organized their meager belongings and began their journey.
They had not gone far when Rhine suddenly stopped, tilted his head back, and let out a long, piercing call.
The sound was high and resonant, echoing through the mountains like an ancient horn, carried off into the distance by the wind.
A moment later—
A white shape emerged from the snowy expanse, approaching on steady hooves.
It was a tall, handsome white stallion. Its pace was strong and resolute, cutting through the wind and snow as it galloped toward them.
"Great!" Rhine's eyes lit up, and he stepped forward to meet it. "Storm, you're still here... without you, we might have had to walk all the way to the Royal Capital."
The stallion let out a low whinny, tossing its head and shaking its mane into the air before nuzzling Rhine affectionately against his shoulder.
Rhine smiled, reaching out to pat its firm, warm neck, his voice softening involuntarily. "I wonder how the others are doing..."
Lunethia walked up slowly, extending a finger to gently comb through Storm's mane. A hint of sorrow lingered on her face, and her voice was soft and low.
"It says... the other six horses were scattered. Two were attacked by wolves, and the remaining three fled deep into the forest. It only came back to check the area... it didn't expect to find us."
Rhine sighed softly at the news, patting Storm's flank. "As long as you're safe. We need to reach the Royal Capital as fast as possible... can you still carry us?"
Storm reared up on its hind legs, whinnying loudly, its mane whipping in the wind like flickering flames.
Lunethia started to speak, intending to translate, but Rhine laughed and waved a hand to cut her off.
"I know, I know—that means 'no problem.'"
She gave him a look that seemed to ask, Where on earth do you get your confidence? but nodded gently all the same.
Rhine chuckled triumphantly, patting Storm's neck. "Hey, Storm and I have been together for a long time. Of course I understand what it's saying."
Lunethia suddenly flashed a mischievous smile. She tilted her head toward the stallion, a playful glint in her eyes, and murmured, "Yes, he really is just like that... hehe..."
The tone was so soft, as if she were sharing a secret. It sounded as though she had just heard some private "secret" about Rhine from Storm himself.
Rhine's brow furrowed, his gaze darting unhappily between them. "Hey, what are you two talking about now?"
Lunethia stuck out her tongue, her expression impish and clever. "I won't tell you. Aren't you supposed to be the one who understands him best?"
"Hmph." Rhine scoffed, deciding it was best to ignore her. He efficiently secured the saddle, then reached out and pulled her up onto the horse's back.
Storm set off across the snow, its hooves striking the ground with steady, powerful rhythm, carrying the two of them away from Starfall Cliff. The biting wind felt like knife blades against their skin, and the moon, cold and bright in the night sky, cast a pale silver glow across the frozen plains.
Lunethia sat in front of Rhine, leaning back slightly against his chest, murmuring things to Storm from time to time. The soft lilt of her voice, woven into the sound of the wind, felt intimate and close.
Listening to the "lively conversation" between girl and beast, a faint flicker of annoyance crossed Rhine's face. But he said nothing, ultimately turning his gaze forward, letting the wind and snow rush past his face.
Under the shroud of night, a single lantern flickered in a farmhouse on the edge of the plains.
The door creaked open, and a one-eyed man slowly stepped out. He leaned on a cane with one hand, his gait slow and deliberate, yet radiating an unwavering, rock-solid determination.
It was he—the Bloodmoon's Hound, Hunter.
The farmer followed close behind, his brow furrowed, his voice laced with concern. "Your body is still weak. There's no harm in resting another two days."
Hunter let out a heavy breath, his voice deep and raspy. "I can't... the Winter Moon Festival is in two days! I must be at the Royal Palace by then... if I'm late, the flames of war will be reignited."
He lifted his head, his gaze heavy and stubborn.
"This peace... it was bought with the blood of so many. I cannot let it be shattered again."
The farmer sighed helplessly, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "I truly don't understand you people... you're injured like this, yet you're still pushing yourself to the brink. It's lucky your doctor friend's medicine ran out the day before yesterday, and you woke up yesterday—otherwise, who knows how much longer you would have dragged this out."
Hunter offered a faint smile, though it was tinged with bitterness and resignation.
He knew all too well that the "medicine" hadn't been for healing; it was a deliberate ploy to keep him in a deep sleep—to ensure he woke at the precise moment to coincide with the Winter Moon Festival.
It was a calculation so precise it bordered on cold-blooded.
He understood the game, yet he had no power to refuse.
"So be it." The farmer slapped his thigh, as if reaching a final decision. "The children can handle the fields. I'll drive you there in the donkey cart; I need to pick up supplies in the city anyway."
Hunter was taken aback and waved his hand dismissively. "I—I couldn't possibly impose..."
"Don't refuse," the farmer said with a shake of his head, his tone simple and resolute. "Helping others is the only way to make this world a better place."
Hunter paused, then bowed his head, clasping his hands in a gesture of profound respect. "Thank you... if I ever have the chance, I will repay this debt."
Before long, the donkey cart creaked along the snow-covered road, the wheels crunching rhythmically against the icy crust. Wrapped tight in his cloak, Hunter looked past the veil of night, his gaze fixed on the distant Royal Capital.
He knew—the crossroads of fate were waiting for him up ahead.
The Royal Capital of the Lunaris Kingdom, a palace of silver forged from moonlight, stood silent in the night wind—solemn, majestic, and cold.
Inside the royal bedchamber, the Queen stood alone.
Her brow was furrowed, her fingers gnawing at her nails, as she muttered to herself: "Two days left... yet, still no word of Lunethia..."
From the mirror, a familiar laugh suddenly rang out.
It was a cold, mocking sound that seemed to echo from the abyss.
"Heh... anxious, are you?"
A shadow slowly emerged within the glass—another "her." Her eyes were profound, flickering with an ancient, dangerous light.
"Two days more, and fate will be completely reversed."
"Shut up!" The Queen snapped her head up, her voice suppressed and trembling with fury. "I still have a way!"
"Fate has already been inscribed." The reflection's laughter grew sharper. "No matter how you struggle, you will fail. Lunethia will liberate me, and you—"
The Queen ignored the taunt.
She turned away, pulling a moon-white crystal ball from her voluminous robes, and strode toward the balcony with resolute steps.
The moonlight poured down.
She raised the crystal ball and began to chant an ancient incantation.
As the rhythm of the spell rose and fell, the crystal ball hovered in the air, radiating a soft, pure glow. Pale silver runes drifted from the sphere, sinking slowly into the center of her brow.
She closed her eyes, as if communing with an unspoken entity.
Time bled away, slow and agonizing.
Finally—
Crack.
The crystal ball shattered abruptly, turning into motes of stardust that scattered and vanished into the night sky.
The Queen's eyes flew open, her breath ragged, her face etched with exhaustion she could no longer hide.
She whispered to herself: "The prophecy... still blurred..."
She looked up at the vast, endless night sky, her voice cold as frost, each word clipped and sharp:
"I only know this—she will appear in the Royal Capital on the day of the Winter Moon Festival."
Her gaze hardened, cutting away the last vestiges of hesitation.
"Lunethia..."
"This time—I will not be soft-hearted again."