The air smelled of wet soil.
Mornings in the hidden forest of Astraea were always strange—as if the ground itself were breathing. Filtered green light fell through the leaves, casting an emerald glow over everything.
This place was destroyed for the world.
According to history books, Astraea had fallen long ago.
But the truth?
The truth lived on beneath the trees.
And that truth was called Arya.
Arya sat on her knees, both hands on the chest of a wounded soldier. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was slow.
"Be still," she said softly.
A faint blue glow began to emanate from her hands. First faint... then deep. A normal healer's glow is green.
But Arya's?
Blue.
And within that blue, there was something else.
Something black.
The wounds slowly began to heal. The soldier's labored breathing stabilized.
People called her a healer.
But she wasn't just a healer.
"You're pushing your limits," a deep voice called from behind.
Arya opened her eyes.
Kaelen Astraeon stood leaning against the tree. His face was serious, as it always was. The wind stirred his dark hair.
"I'm fine," Arya stood up. "The wound was deep."
Kaelen lifted the wounded soldier and looked at Arya. His gaze lingered for a moment longer.
"Your glow is getting darker."
Arya's heart stopped for a second. "I'm just tired," she said in a casual tone.
But she was lying.
At night, when she was alone, a blue flame would emerge from her hands.
Flame.
Not healing.
Fire.
And not a normal flame.
Blue… with black streaks flowing through it.
The people of Astraea's hidden settlement lived a simple life.
No one mentioned the outside world.
Even mentioning Noctryss was forbidden.
Everyone was told—the world destroyed us.
We are just survivors.
Aarya had heard this since childhood.
But it never really dawned on her.
If we're just survivors... then why are these training grounds of a hidden empire?
Why are these war strategies taught?
Why are there these secret tunnels?
And most importantly—
Why was I taught sword fighting?
By evening, Aarya reached the training arena.
This place was hidden in the forest—surrounded by natural stone pillars and cylinders. Carved symbols were etched beneath.
Aarya picked up her wooden practice sword.
Breathe in.
Focus.
Strike.
Her movements weren't like those of a healer.
She was precise. Controlled. Aggressive.
A soldier launched a mock attack.
Aarya sidestepped, twisted his wrist, and brought the wooden blade to rest against his throat.
Silence.
Kaelen watched from the side.
"You don't need to do all this, even after your architecture training," he said.
Arya lowered her blade.
"I don't just want to design buildings."
"Then?"
Arya looked up at the sky.
"I don't want to be weak."
Kaelen wanted to say something, but stopped.
Night.
Arya was alone in her room.
The green forest shone outside the window.
She looked at her hands.
"Show me," she whispered softly.
And then—
Flames.
Blue-black fire burst from her hands.
This time stronger.
This time less control.
Flames swirled in the air, spiraling around her.
The color of her eyes began to change slightly—from emerald to blue.
Then—
A voice.
"Finally…"
Arya froze.
"Who?" she whispered.
Flames grew more intense.
"You can't keep me sealed, Princess."
Princess.
Those words struck her mind like lightning.
"I'm not a princess," Arya said angrily.
The flame suddenly became uncontrollable.
A section of the wall burned—but not red.
Blue-black.
And where the flame hit… the stone melted.
This wasn't a normal fire.
This was destruction.
The door swung open.
Kaelen came in.
There was shock in his eyes.
"Aarya—"
He stopped.
He saw the burning wall.
Blue-black flame.
He said softly:
"So… it has begun."
Aarya looked at him.
"Did you know?"
Kaelen closed his eyes.
"I prayed this day wouldn't come."
"Which day?"
Silence grew heavy.
Then Kalen said softly:
"You are the lost princess of Astraea."
The wind stopped.
Arya laughed.
"No."
"Astraea was attacked on the day of your birth. The Demon King's power was sealed in royal blood."
Arya's heart began to pound.
"Stop."
"You're not just a healer. You're the one Astraea silently lives for."
"Stop!"
The flame flared again.
This time the ground cracked.
Kalen stepped forward and grabbed her hand.
"Arya! Control yourself!"
"How?!" her voice broke.
The voice within spoke again—
"Don't tell them the truth. Set me free."
Arya felt a slight trickle of blood come out of her ears.
Her breathing became heavy.
Kalen pulled her tightly towards him.
"Listen to me. You are not the power. You are its owner."
The flame slowly began to calm down.
The blue-black glow diminished.
Only the smell of burning remained in the room.
Arya's body went weak.
"Demon King…" she whispered.
The air isn't cold here. It bites. Snow doesn't just settle on the ground—it also settles on people's faces. Silver towers stood, cheering the sky. A permanent frost gleamed on their edges, as if the city never melted. And between those towers—the War Citadel of the Dominion. The sound of swords clashing echoed through the training grounds. "Again." The voice was quiet. But beneath that silence was order. General Aziel stood on a frost-lined platform. Black-silver armor, ice-etched sigils on his shoulders. His eyes were steel gray—utterly emotionless. Five elite soldiers in front of him. They attacked simultaneously. Aziel didn't waste a second in moving. Step. Twist. Block. One soldier's weapon froze—he hadn't even touched it. Another's blade became locked in mid-air ice. Aziel fell backward—Aziel's sword rested on his neck. Silence. The remaining two soldiers bowed their heads and surrendered. Aziel lowered his blade. "You're not fighting. You're pretending to survive." His breathing was heavy. "General...we used full force." Aziel's gaze fixed on him. "Full force is never announced." The ice beneath the ground cracked. A thin line. Then it disappeared. Everyone saw it. Everyone remained silent. Because Noctriss had a rule—
Don't anger the General. He was calm outside. Inside? Storm. The Emperor sat in the topmost chamber of the War Citadel. Dark crystal throne. Frost banners all around. Aziel walked straight in. He didn't kneel. Just a head bow. "General." "Your Majesty." The Emperor's voice came out with a slight smile. "Border surveillance has detected an unusual fluctuation." Aziel didn't react. "Location?" "Southern dead zone." Dead zone. The same place where Astraea was destroyed. Aziel's eyes flickered for a second. The Emperor noticed. "Do you believe in history, General?" "History is facts." "Are stories?" The room temperature dropped further. The Emperor spoke softly: "Reports say there's been an energy spike. Unknown signature. Not ours." Aziel replied simply: "I will investigate." The Emperor's gaze sharpened. "Destroy anything that breathes there." Pause. "Even ghosts." Aziel bowed his head. "Understood." Night. Standing on the outer cliff of Noctryss, Aziel looked down at the endless snowfields below. The wind was blowing. The Cape was rising behind. Dead zone. The same place he'd been taught since childhood— Astraea destroyed. Royal bloodline extinct. Demon threat neutralized. Yet… Why did his instinct always tell him the story was incomplete? He extended his hand. Ice began to form between his fingers. Perfect. Controlled. Then