Faerith stared, wide-eyed, as Loni'var wove her chaos magic through the air. Broken plates hovered, mended by invisible threads of power, nearly stacking themselves on the worn wooden counter as if nothing had happened.
Loni'var glided towards the dining table. Two cups and a jug of what looked like steaming lavender tea from the scent alone waited. Besie them, a massive slice of cake gleamed in the soft light, almost too perfect to touch. "Apologies for intruding," she said, her voice calm but carrying a strange weight. "Your folks told me they found you unconscious in the field of monkey orchids. That place is quite dangerous, you know?..."
*But it was you who took me there*
Faerith said no single word, her thoughts speaking for her. Her grip on the whip tightened. The morning's events weren't a dream, was it? She saw it. She knew what she saw.
She could see from the system looming before her, her level, her inventory, the things she accomplished in the mission.
Loni'var's sharp eyes caught the subtle shift in Faerith's tension, the way her hand clenched the chain like it was a last resort. "I see you carry a weapon, you have chosen well. A weapon defines a warrior's heart" she said softly, her mind flickering to the thought of Faerith accepting invitation to the Azure Knights. "Is.. Something wrong?"
Faerith remained silent, still quiet despite Loni'var's concern, her eyes glowing a deep purple that shook the woman a bit.
*What seems to be her issue?*
Concerned, she stepped closer, the girl instinctively retreated still convinced that she was playing tricks on her. Loni'var paused, studying her with quiet astonishment.
"Little Raven... Is anything the matter?"
At the sound of Loni'var's voice and her words, Faerith trembled. When she had fought the imposter earlier, there was one detail it had failed to grasp, a single name it could not steal.
Little Raven.
Now it seemed that certain Mythics could wear faces, copy voices, even mimic certain habits. But memory? Memory was never complete. They were not born whole. They were shaped from humanity's worst deeds, living echoed of guilt and cruelty.
Flaws given shape and life.
Faerith gulped hard, her attention fixed on the woman before her, searching for even the smallest crack in the illusion. "Aunt... Loni'var?" She whispered. "Did you... Visit me this morning?"
Loni'var blinked, then placed her hands on her hips, one brow arching sharply. "HUH?" she said flatly. "What nonsense is that?" Her tone was certain. "We were on a quest today. Helped an old baker deal with an insect Mythic infestation." She nodded toward the table. "That's where I got this.
Faerith followed her gesture to the slice of lavender cake that had been sitting there for a while.
"I thought you'd like it," Loni'var continued. "Your mother said it runs in the family. Even your great-great-grandmother, Sora, loved it."
Faerith's chest tightened, her heart beating fast.
Lavender cake. Her mother used to bake it often, filling the house with its soft, calming scent. It had been her favorite. Her father, however, never touched it.
That much… only family knew.
And in that moment, the fear gripping Faerith's heart began to loosen—just slightly.
But things were far from being settled. Erandale and every city like it was protected by countless layers of sealing magic, ancient wards meant to block the influence of Mythics.
Something many called 'The Rule of Magi' established three-hundred-years ago in the first encounter with Mythics. The rule was quite simple, a single sentence.
'Any evil, any transgression and every dark force shall be reflected by everlasting light'
With this rule, their presence should have been impossible and yet, one had entered.
And that mysterious man… who was he? What was he? He sure didn't look human.
Faerith inhaled sharply and returned her weapon back to the list of inventories she had stored in the system. Now her thoughts were forced in order.
Though this did not stop Loni'var from bein curious, "Is anything the matter?" she asked again, her tone filled with innocence.
Faerith simply just smiled. "No, not at all," she replied calmly, "I simply thought an intruder had shown itself"
With that being said she turned and walked towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Loni'var called after her.
Faerith stopped without turning back. "I'll be going for a night walk. It helps, please, make yourself as comfortable as you would in your home."
Then—she stepped outside leaving an unsettled Loni'var.
*A night walk? At this hour of the day?*
Outside her humble abode, Faerith's gaze hardened, the fake smile vanishing without a trace. She put on her shoes which she found lying outside.
She wasn't taking a stroll, she was leaving Erandale.
Once, she feard Mythics and everything they stood for—tgeir cruelty, hunger and the things they could do to innocent people. But fighting one had changed her way of seeing things. It had awakened something she thought she had lost.
This wasn't fear anymore, this was pure, undeniable hatred. No matter the cost, she had to kill them, every last one.
That old dream surfaced once again—the one which she dreamt of becoming a strong Knight. With every step, her resolve grew stronget.
She felt eyes watching her from the dark, whispers echoing faintly.Even Faeul's hateful gaze lingered. He hadn't slept since their confrontation. Now he sat drinking with his friends, only to spot her walking alone.
A wide grin spread across his face, anger simmering beneath it. Faerith reached the gate and raised her hand.
[Default Skill Used: Psychokinesis]
With much difficulty, the heavy gate was opened as the invisible force from her newfound power pushed it aside.
She stepped beyond the city, walking through the boulevard of trees and tall grass. The path looked the same as always—but this time, she noticed the watching eyes, heard the whispers curling through the night.
The Mythics were aware of her presence, but this didn't bother the slightest. They were infact the reason she came.
At last, she reached the field of monkey orchids, the same place she encoutered whatever had taken Loni'var's form. Moonlight washed over the pale flowers as Faerith drew her whip. She looked up at the night sky, memories surfacing—warm laughter, gentle voices, the safety of her parents' embrace.
She remembered herself at eight years old, crying out with unshaken hope:
I will be a brave knight someday!!
Faerith exhaled softly. The memory hurt—but she was ready to let it go. Ready to release the fear, the grief, the hesitation.
Now, she would be able to move forward, she could become as strong as the greatest, high-level knights.
But there was no time to ponder, thee Mythics emerged, shadows twisting, surrounding her in horrible forms—large and small, snarling, screeching, their bodies wrapped in darkness.
Faerith tightened her grip on the whip and stood her ground.
[Multiple Enemies Detected]
Faerith studied the beasts before her. Floating tabs appeared above each twisted head, displaying their health and mana as if the night itself was watching.
[Defeat all enemies: 0/67]
"So you're hungry," Faerith muttered, snapping her whip through the air. "Come, then. The food is growing bitter."
From behind, Faeul froze.
His breath caught in his throat as he counted the shapes crawling out of the darkness. Sixty-seven Mythics. He had nearly died fighting twenty—and now this girl stood alone, unshaken.
The first Mythic lunged.
Faerith moved.
Her whip cracked with deadly precision, slicing through the creature before it could even roar.
• 10 XP
"Next."
The fall of their comrade sent the others into a frenzy. They charged all at once, claws and fangs flashing. Faerith smiled—and began her judgment.
She struck swiftly, methodically. Every movement was sharp. Every blow deliberate.
• Level Up!
As each Mythic fell, her thoughts burned with purpose. Strength. Power. The Knight she was meant to become.
Then pain exploded across her face.
A massive fist slammed into her, snapping her head aside.
[Critical Health Damage!]
[Health: 150/180]
Faerith stood still, her head tilted from the sheer force of the attack. The Mythics hesitated now, inching closer, waiting to see if she would fall.
But she only laughed. Soft at first—then louder, sounding more histerical.
The one that struck her felt it immediately.
Fear.
Mythics were born from human flaws, and fear was one they understood too well.
Faerith lifted her head slowly. Her eyes blazed with an unnatural glow, blood sliding down her temple. She grinned—wide and feral.
With a single devastating strike, she shattered the creature.
• Level Up!
The remaining Mythics recoiled.
Faerith reached into her inventory and downed a potion. Green light wrapped around her body.
[Health Restored!]
The wound vanished. Her stance steadied.
Twenty defeated.
She beckoned the remaining forty-seven with a crooked smile.
For reasons she couldn't explain, joy flooded her chest. Pure, unrestrained freedom.
To hell with potion brewing.
To hell with Erandale.
To hell with those who looked down on me.
The Mythics attacked from every direction. Faerith didn't move, but she watched.
Then—just in a nick of time.
[Psychic Cooldown Completed!]
Her eyes shut tight. Blood ran from her nose. Her head pounded like thunder.
She opened her eyes.
Purple light burned brighter than before as white energy exploded across the field.
[Psychic Skill Used: Clairvoyance]
She understood now.
Her power wasn't limited to movement—it was perception.
Clairvoyance.
She saw seconds ahead. Every strike. Every opening. Every death.
The outcome was clear.
She spun, her whip tearing through weak points with merciless accuracy.
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
Faerith screamed as power surged through her.
[Energy Used: 70]
Then there was only silence. She stood amid fading corpses, breath steady, body glowing faintly.
[Quest Completed!]
The system flickered.
• Rewards: x3 Red Potion
• x1 Full Esper Armor
• x7 Orb Essence
[PsyWhip Upgraded Lv.4]
"I'm stronger now," she whispered.
But it wasn't enough, she was only stronger than the adventurers. Behind her, Faeul stared in disbelief.
Sixty-seven Mythics. One night.
"I know you're there," Faerith said calmly.
Faeul stumbled.
She turned toward him, her gaze glowing, her presence unnatural.
"W-What are you?" he demanded.
Faerith faced him fully. Her new state revealed to him, she looked taller, her form strengthened like she was reborn.
Fear crushed him like a boulder. Without a single word, the girl turned away and walked into the night, leaving him trembling behind.