The villagers began to whisper about a curse that was linked to an old deal made by one of their own with a vengeful spirit. According to the story, the curse started because of a forbidden ritual done by a powerful sorcerer named Isaac Whitaker, who wanted to live forever. In his search for eternal life, he accidentally released an evil force that affected the whole village.
As the curse spread, strange things began to happen. Crops stopped growing, animals died, and the clear river became dirty and smelly. The villagers' health quickly worsened, and their once happy faces became filled with fear and sadness.
Isaac Whitaker joined forces with the Seven Dark Forces to achieve his goal of immortality. No one knew how powerful these forces really were, not even Isaac. His obsession with living forever led him to make a terrible choice. The Seven Dark Forces demanded a sacrifice—something called a Kaelith sacrifice.
Eager to gain immortality, Isaac offered Quentin Reed, a senior from the Shadowmoon Clan, as the sacrifice. What Isaac didn’t realize was that the Seven Dark Forces were far more dangerous and evil than he could have imagined. The sacrifice of Quentin wasn’t just a step towards immortality; it triggered a series of events that would bring chaos and destruction to the world.
The Ironhart Clan formed an alliance with three smaller clans—the Shadowmoon Clan, the Stormwatch Clan, and the Flamecrest Clan. This alliance started when the leaders of these clans saw the strength and wisdom of the Ironhart Clan. They saw the potential in joining forces, hoping to learn from the Ironhart Clan's renowned martial arts masters and dedicate themselves to the teachings of the Eternal Forge temple.
The Shadowmoon Clan, known for their agility and speed, sought to improve their combat skills and refine their techniques. Masters of stealth and espionage, they excelled in operating from the shadows. They believed that by training with the Ironhart Clan, they could become even more powerful. The Ironhart Clan, in turn, admired the Shadowmoon Clan's quick reflexes and saw the opportunity for a strong and effective partnership.
The Stormwatch Clan, skilled in archery and marksmanship, wanted to learn from the Ironhart Clan’s close combat expertise. As guardians of the skies with a deep connection to weather magic, they believed that combining their long-range attacks with the Ironhart Clan's powerful close-range techniques would make them an unstoppable force on the battlefield.
The Flamecrest Clan, known for their ability to communicate with and tame beasts, sought to expand their knowledge of animal training. Fierce, passionate, and renowned for their fire-based powers and loyalty, they recognized the Ironhart Clan's deep bond with nature and its ability to communicate with animals. By joining forces, they hoped to learn the secrets of the Ironhart Clan's beast taming techniques and strengthen their own connection with their beasts.
Together, these four clans—the Ironhart, Shadowmoon, Stormwatch, and Flamecrest—united under the banner of the Four Clans of Light. Their goal was to bring peace to the world and protect it from the dark forces that threatened it. They envisioned creating a utopia, a place of everlasting love and light, a dream they had been told about since birth.
Meanwhile, Hannah William, the wife of Emperor William, was expecting a baby girl. However, this happy news didn’t bring celebration to Mistwood Village. Instead, it filled the village with worry, as both Emperor William’s rule and the peace of the village were now in danger.
━???━???━
It was a quiet night, with only the sound of rain breaking the stillness. Lightning briefly lit up the road, but soon the darkness returned, as if thick black fog had swallowed the world. In the distance, a faint bell rang. The town’s lights had gone out, leaving only a few candles flickering at house corners and lamps standing outside, struggling to shine through the storm.
A small white rabbit hopped out of its burrow, running into the rain to find shelter in a nearby house. Three middle-aged women walked carefully through the muddy ground, not caring that rainwater was soaking their shoes, clothes, and hair. They walked in silence, their heads down, not looking at each other.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Dressed in a torn black robe, the mysterious figure moved with an unsettling smoothness, their steps barely making a sound on the wet pavement. Their face was hidden beneath a hood, revealing only a glimpse of pale, ghostly skin. Without a word, they silently disappeared into the darkness.
"Come on, hurry up, we need to move quickly," urged Marlene Bennett, a woman with black eyes and gray hair. Despite being over 50, her face showed the signs of age and deep worry. Her voice shook from the cold, and she kept glancing back at the large palace ahead.
"How can I walk in this heavy rain?" Tessa Knight, a 45-year-old woman with gray hair and glasses, grabbed Marlene's hand and asked urgently, her words muffled by the rainwater pouring into her mouth. Her tone was slightly whiny and irritating. "Did Empress Hannah really have to give birth in this rain?"
Tessa complained about the weather but picked up her pace. If she didn’t have to take care of a newborn, she would have preferred staying home and resting rather than being out in the rain.
“She’s the Empress. If anyone hears you, they could make your life disappear. And this girl is about to be born, that’s why it's raining,” said Willa Morgan, a 52-year-old woman with light brown hair tied in a low bun, some wet strands sticking to her forehead. "There hasn’t been rain for the last six years."
She held a yellow infant blanket and smiled softly, though there was a hint of pity in her eyes. She, too, looked tired. They had been midwives for over thirty years, delivering countless babies. But this birth felt different. It weighed heavily on their hearts, especially since the baby was born a week early.
Empress Hannah’s due date was still a week away, and the baby’s early arrival puzzled everyone. It left them with a deep sense of unease, as if something was about to happen. They all knew this birth was more than just a new life coming into the world—it was an omen that would change everything for those involved.
"Who knows if this baby will change the fate of our village?" Marlene said as she supported Willa. "The whole village is happy. For years, we haven’t been able to harvest crops because there’s been no rain."
Tessa nodded in agreement. "It’s true. It’s felt like a drought for so long. The villagers are so happy, they don’t even know how to show it." She sighed deeply. "We need food, but we don’t have enough money."
The three midwives stopped in front of the Imperial Jade Palace, a stunning white building that looked like a giant eggshell. The palace stood tall and impressive, its beauty clear in every tiny detail. The outside walls were covered with delicate carvings of mythical creatures and ancient symbols. Under the moonlight, the pure white of the palace seemed to glow, creating a magical atmosphere.
The design of the great hall combined elegance and strength. Its sweeping curves and graceful arches seemed to echo the flowing rivers of the land. Strong stone pillars, etched with protective runes and symbols, reached toward the sky, symbolizing the power and endurance of the gods. The roof, with its flowing curves and intricate carvings of mythical beasts, showed the unmatched skill of the dwarven builders.
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At the top of the hall, three wyrm statues stood proudly, their heads turned to watch over the busy village below. These wyrms were unlike the dragons of old stories; they had no wings. Yet, their long bodies and strong limbs filled onlookers with awe, making their lack of wings seem insignificant. Villagers often looked up at these majestic guardians, believing them to be protectors of the realm.
As visitors approached the entrance, they were greeted by a grand gate, decorated with golden wyrms and swirling patterns of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. The gate towered above, representing the authority of the hall and the divine power within. Beyond it lay a spacious courtyard, full of carefully cared-for gardens, where bright wildflowers swayed in the breeze, adding splashes of color to the scene. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming herbs and flowers, creating a peaceful, almost sacred atmosphere, a reminder of nature’s abundance.
As three midwives moved deeper into the hall, the visitors entered a vast chamber with soaring ceilings and tall pillars, each one carved with stories of the Aesir and Vanir gods. The walls were decorated with vivid murals, showing legendary battles and heroic sagas, each one painted with incredible detail and color, showcasing the talent of the skalds. Candlelight flickered softly, casting warm shadows that danced across the smooth stone floors.
Inside the hall, the furnishings were nothing short of exquisite. Rare woods and shining metals were expertly crafted into pieces that boasted intricate carvings of runes and ancient stories. Luxurious furs draped over benches made from fine timber, and every surface was adorned with elaborate carvings, enhancing the beauty and elegance of the space. The arrangement of the furniture followed principles of harmony, creating a sacred balance between space and spirit within the grand hall. The sounds of laughter and the songs of bards filled the air, promising tales that were yet to be told.
At the far end of the hall, an elevated platform held a magnificent throne. This seat, made from dark wood and inlaid with shimmering gemstones, gleamed as it caught the light, sparkling like stars. It was the seat of the chieftain, symbolizing leadership and bravery, where the wise gathered to discuss matters of the realm. Above the throne, a massive tapestry hung, depicting the great deeds of the gods. It wove together the past and present, serving as a reminder of their storied heritage.
As evening drew near, the air filled with the delicious scent of roasting meats, and the sound of clinking goblets echoed through the hall. Long feasting tables were laden with food and drink, inviting everyone to enjoy the bounty of the earth and sea. The flickering firelight bathed the room in a golden glow, lighting up the faces of warriors, craftsmen, and storytellers, all of whom contributed to the rich culture they shared. In this sacred space, bonds were formed, stories told, and the legacy of their ancestors was honored, ensuring that the heart of their community would remain strong for generations.
When they ventured deeper into the great hall of the chieftain, they entered the private chambers of the Jarl and his family. The rooms were vast, decorated with lavish details. Wooden panels, carved with skill, divided the spaces, offering privacy while still allowing the light from the flickering torches to cast its dance on the walls.
Rich tapestries draped the walls, depicting scenes of the great fjords, legendary creatures, and symbols of good fortune. The colors were deep and bold, reflecting the wealth of the Jarl and the prosperity of his clan. Exquisite horn vases and finely carved stone figures sat proudly on shelves and tables, adding to the grandeur and elegance of the halls.
"Why were you so late?" asked Harald Freysson, his voice a little shaky. He was a baron of the court, dressed in a tunic with his head covered by a piece of headgear. His nerves were clear as he glanced at the others, awaiting an answer.
[System Level: 10/12]
[Power level: 90,000/100,000]
[Beast type: Kun Peng]
[Name: Harald Freysson]
[Age: 49]
[Clan: Ironhart Clan]
[Race: Kaelith]
[Blood-type: Verdant]
[Blood Color: Green]
[HP: 100/100]
[EP: 49/50]
[AP: 60 units]
[Mana: 100/100]
[Beast Energy: 100/100]
[Beast Race type: Zephyrbeasts and Lunafins]
[Beast Ability:]
[Flight] [Energy Manipulation]
[Skills: 64/70]
[Action Speed: 1-2 seconds per action]
[Skill Cooldowns: 6-15 seconds]
[Movement Speed: 10-15 units per second]
[Base Strength: 14]
[Damage Output: 21+ damage per hit]
[Carrying Capacity: 201+ units]
[State Points: 190/200]
"We were late because of the rain," Marlene explained, wiping the raindrops from her face.
"Alright, hurry then," Harald replied, his voice full of urgency. "The Empress is in pain and waiting for you." Marlene nodded quickly, following him as they moved through the lavish rooms, each filled with treasures and wealth, until they finally reached the Empress's chambers.
Marlene and Harald entered swiftly. The Empress was lying in bed, wrapped in blankets, her face pale and strained.
"Please, Marlene, help me," the Empress pleaded, her voice tight with pain. "I can’t bear it any longer."
Marlene gently took the Empress’s hand and reassured her, "Do not worry, Your Majesty. I am here to help you through this. Just breathe and focus on your breathing."
The Empress began to breathe slowly, inhaling through her nose, her eyes fixed on Marlene’s. She seemed to relax a little, though she still looked exhausted and pale. As the pain intensified, Marlene stayed by her side, guiding her through each painful wave with encouraging words and steady support. The room smelled of soothing healing herbs, and the soft sound of rain against the palace windows created a calming atmosphere.
Outside, everyone anxiously waited for news. Hours later, Marlene and Harald emerged quickly from the room.
"It's not a baby girl, but a boy," Marlene said, pausing to watch the expressions of everyone around her. "And... he was stillborn."
The words hung heavily in the air, causing a collective gasp to escape the crowd. Tears welled up in the Emperor’s eyes, his heart breaking at the loss of the child he had hoped would bring hope to Mistwood Village. He moved toward his wife, Empress Hannah, whose face was filled with disbelief and sorrow. The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft sobs and whispered prayers from those gathered.
"All of this happened because of that curse, Emperor," Empress Hannah said through her pain, gripping his hand. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Anything, Your Majesty," Emperor William replied gently, his voice full of emotion. "I would do anything to fulfill your wish."
"Just follow the instructions given by Elder Erik Thorvaldsen," she said, causing the Emperor to pause. Her words lingered in the air. "Please, do it for the sake of our deceased child."
The Emperor’s expression grew serious, and he fell silent for a moment. "Alright, alright. I will do as you ask. Just rest, and try not to stress," he said softly, adjusting the blanket around her to make her more comfortable.
No one knew the true nature of the curse, but the villagers were desperate for a solution. They turned to Elder Erik Thorvaldsen, the wise elder of the village, who advised them to perform a ritual to appease the spirit and break the curse. The ritual called for the sacrifice of the village's most cherished possession—an ancient golden statue of their founding deity, a god who governed the seasons and controlled the rains.
Reluctantly, the villagers agreed, their hearts heavy with the thought of parting with such a treasured relic. They gathered in the village square, holding the golden statue in their hands as they recited ancient incantations. As they chanted, a dense fog descended on the village, and a cold, bone-chilling wind swept through the air. Suddenly, the statue began to glow with a blinding light, and the ground beneath them shook violently.
A powerful earthquake struck, and the villagers screamed in shock. The earth trembled beneath their feet, knocking everyone to the ground in terror. Then, all eyes turned toward the sky, where a bright green light shimmered, casting its glow over everything it touched, like a beacon calling their attention. The light faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the villagers dazed and trembling.
As they slowly stood up, still shaken, they saw a figure before them. Cloaked in a flowing white robe, the figure’s face was hidden beneath a large hood, leaving only dark, piercing eyes visible. A black scepter protruded from a silver belt strapped around his waist, and a long sword and shield, forged from the finest steel, hung from his back.
The figure slowly lowered his hood, revealing a white mask that covered his face. His eyes, though gentle in appearance, carried an eerie presence. There was something about him that sent chills down the spines of the villagers. As he stood before them, the atmosphere grew heavy with a sense of dread and mystery.
After the chaos ended, the villagers saw a change on their map. The most unusual thing was the sudden appearance of a lake. Curious, the villagers gathered around it. This lake was different from others in the area. It glowed with an odd light, reflecting the colors of the sky. Some thought it was a sign from the gods, while others feared it meant more bad things were coming. Whatever the case, the lake made the villagers more superstitious. They became afraid and didn’t want to leave their homes. When they did go outside, they looked pale and scared, with blank, fearful eyes.
