Gryphon City 3

"Susan... Susan..."

"My Susan..."

A chill colder than ice swept through Lucia's entire body. She felt a powerful suction dragging at her soul, as though it wanted to pull her into an abyss. Alarmed, Lucia tried to leave the Mourner's Harp's domain of music, only to discover that her retreat had been cut off.

Vague white shadows surrounded her soulfire, forcing her to plunge into fragments of memories that did not belong to her.

Darkness lay before her. A few dim candle flames cast round halos of light in the distance, while black shadows stretched across the walls, eerie and terrifying.

It seemed to be an underground prison—dark, damp, and devoid of daylight. Straw had been spread across the muddy floor, but it could not conceal the filth. Cells stood locked on either side, holding many people who were either insane or utterly lifeless. Intense tension and anger surged up from deep within Lucia, but she knew those emotions were not hers. They belonged to the Undead that had brought her here.

She walked down the long corridor and, at its end, saw a wooden cross soaked in blood. A woman was tied to it, her head hanging limply to one side, her clothes torn to shreds. The marks of branding irons and whips stood out starkly. Her belly was swollen high; it was obvious that she had been close to giving birth. Yet now, neither she nor the child in her womb would ever see the color of the sky again or feel the warmth of the sun. They were already dead.

Lucia thought she probably knew who this was. And there was only one organization capable of treating a divine spellcaster with such cruelty—the Holy See's Heresy Inquisition.

Tearing pain came from the depths of her soul, along with suppressed rage, profound guilt, and an indescribable sorrow.

Once more, she was dragged into utter darkness. The next light she saw came from candles on a lampstand. This was an arcanist's laboratory, littered with manuscripts densely covered in formulas. In one corner stood a coffin inlaid with mysterious patterns. Inside lay a peaceful-looking woman, and beside her was a baby whose complexion was faintly bluish.

"Knock, knock, knock." Someone knocked on the door. Lucia helplessly went to open it, and several people dressed as mages entered.

A middle-aged mage said, "Teacher, do you truly think we should do this?"

"You're completely insane," another elderly man said. "But the fact that I didn't refuse you outright means I must be as insane as you are."

"If I fail, maintain Emerald West City's defensive array and wait for Falan's aid," a hoarse voice spoke from Lucia's mouth. Darren the Spell Saint—Lucia knew of him. But at that time, Darren still possessed a voice fit for an exceptional bard, deep and rich.

"Teacher, we'll wait for you to bring Mistress back." Tears filled the female mage's eyes. She still could not believe that something so cruel had befallen her teacher and his gentle wife.

Next, Lucia witnessed an ancient and obscure sacrificial ritual. Darren the Spell Saint, who had somehow grown old, offered his soul to the Dark God in exchange for the return of his wife and child's departed souls.

That was when the change occurred. Fierce spirits wandering the realm of the dead invaded Darren's body, and a blood-red light appeared in his eyes. Everything that followed seemed, to Lucia, like a gray-white moving painting. The entire world was silent, twisted, and horrifying as countless Undead surged forth in madness. Lucia felt profound fear. She did not know whether this was how the Undead truly saw the world, or whether she was experiencing a terrible nightmare.

When calm finally returned, Lucia let out a deep breath. It was finally over, she thought. The coffin at the center of the magic array remained intact, and the people within still had their eyes tightly shut.

Had it failed? Just as Lucia felt regretful, she caught sight of a shadow from the corner of her eye—a woman holding a baby in her arms.

Joy, disbelief, and boundless longing...

Yet an attack carrying holy power arrived in an instant. Lucia could almost imagine that Darren's smile had not even faded before his wife and child vanished before his eyes once more.

This time, even their souls were shattered along with them.

People from the Holy See burst in and hurled numerous Black Crystals at Darren. Lucia was startled to find that the distorted perspective that had so painstakingly faded away showed signs of returning.

She heard Darren's soul cry out in grief.

People's screams filled the entire night, and the stench of blood was so thick it made her want to vomit. Bodiless souls and grim white bones burning with ghostly green soulfire trampled through Emerald City, harvesting one life after another. Flowing blood dyed even the Jika River crimson.

Everything was like hell.

"No, no..."

Lucia desperately wanted to break free from this memory. If she did not escape soon, she would sink completely into it.

"Lucia!" Faced with Lucia's abnormal reaction, Theodore had no idea how to resolve it. For the first time, he regretted not studying Undead magic more deeply.

Theodore held Lucia tightly. The Mourner's Harp was no longer under Lucia's control, yet its strings continued to tremble on their own.

Just as Theodore was about to risk everything and attack the Mourner's Harp, Lucia opened her tightly shut eyes.

"Theodore. It was too terrifying. It was all too cruel." She reached out and clenched Theodore's mage robe tightly, telling him about Darren and Susan, Darren's sacrifice, and the Holy See's conspiracy...

Gryphon City 3

Not long after the Emerald City Fall Incident, the Holy See launched the War of Light. Although Italigis had prepared for battle, mages had grown accustomed to unrestrained freedom. Unable to recall the arcanists scattered outside in time, Italigis suffered a devastating blow in its first battle.

At the same time, the northern Alchemy City also came under attack from the Holy See's allied forces. However, due to Alchemy City's special standing among the continent's scholars, opinions within the alliance were divided, and they hesitated in their assault. In the middle of the War of Light, the mage nation of Italigis gathered the greatest Grand Arcanists of that era to launch a counterattack, setting up two forbidden spells in the Softsong Hills.