ASHARA

Beneath the blood-red sky of the fallen Dark Kingdom, a lone figure stood where thrones once reigned—among the crumbled bones of power, veiled in the whispers of the dead. Ruby’s eyes, twin embers of fury and sorrow, burned with a light so fierce it unsettled even the most unshakable of warriors. None could fathom the alchemy of her rebirth—how the girl they shattered had returned cloaked in flame and shadow, her soul carved anew by vengeance.



They had killed her.



Shithal, with her mocking laughter like poisoned honey, and King Arthro, with a traitor’s kiss and a blade slick with betrayal. They had cast her into oblivion, convinced the abyss would keep her. But the abyss, it seemed, had forged her into something else.



Something terrifying.

Something unforgettable.



Now, her name rode the wind like a curse. Ruby—the revenant, the wrath. She struck with cold precision, dismantling the web of lies they’d spun, unraveling empires thread by thread. Each downfall bore her signature; every death was a quiet requiem to the girl they once knew.



And yet, a question haunted even the boldest lips:

What power had reanimated her broken form?

What bargain had she struck in the dark?



The kingdom, steeped in secrets and stained with sin, had become her stage.

And in this final act, Ruby would not be the victim.

She would be the fire that cleansed.

She would be the storm they could not escape.