KNIGHT

EMBERIUM | RICADIUS SQUARE

The cobbled streets of Ricadius Square are lined with quaint European-style houses, their windows shuttered and doors trembling as if in fear. At the heart of the square, a pulsing mass of black organic matter writhes like a living wound upon the world.

A lone mage in a tattered robe stumbles backward, breath ragged, eyes wide with dread. Around him, chaos reigns— mages flee in all directions, panic in every footstep.

"Run! Don't look at this mag—"

His voice cuts short as his body erupts into ash and bone, disintegrating mid-word. The others suffer the same fate. No time to scream. No time to escape. Only death.

Emberium | Library

Inside the Emberium Library, magic hums in the air— thick and crackling like an unseen storm. Books tremble on the shelves, parchment curling at the edges. Ryusaki hovers midair, a trail of dark energy spiraling behind him like smoke from a cursed flame.

"So much power." he murmurs, grinning. "It's almost unfair for you."

He rockets forward in a blur, blade drawn, aimed straight for Celeste.

Her breath is calm. Her grip tightens around the shaft of her scythe. When Ryusaki strikes, she blocks effortlessly, a smile playing on her lips. The impact splits the marble beneath them. Cracks spiral outward.

They recoil, sliding back across the library's floor.

Celeste taps her foot against the ground. A wave of dark aura flares from her body, painting the room in eerie light.

"Ultima Ratio – Death's Extend."

She vanishes.

In the blink of an eye, she reappears before Ryusaki, her scythe a blur of deadly arcs. He struggles to parry— too slow. Two crimson slashes carve across his face, blood trailing in the air.

He staggers.

Unexpected.

Celeste flips backward and lands with a snap of her fingers.

"Black Rot – Death Blow."

From the wounds she inflicted, thick black matter begins to rise— oily tendrils spreading across Ryusaki's skin like living tar.

And he laughs. Maniacally.

Without a word, he drives his sword into the ground. A pulse erupts. Wings unfurl behind him. The earth shatters. Walls crack and curl as if the entire building recoils in fear.

"What do you think?" he growls, eyes glowing, "A change of environment?"

The library trembles. The ceiling caves in. Dust and stone rain down as the walls implode.

"FAFNIR – IKE."

A roar like the end of the world echoes through Emberium. A massive, shadowy creature spirals into the sky— draconic, ancient, dead.

Celeste steps back, eyes narrowed, voice cold.

"A dead dragon? I thought I was the death mage."

Ryusaki grinning.

"Then survive this, death mage."

Black dust thickens in the air like smoke—oppressive, suffocating. It coils around Celeste like a predator stalking its prey.

Above the Emberium Library, the heavens split open from that draconic being.

A colossal beam of black energy crashes down, obliterating the roof in a single, merciless strike. The building doesn't collapse— it's annihilated. The walls are torn from the foundation, hurled high into the sky like paper in a storm.

Then comes the second wave.

A massive, roiling black sphere rises from the ground, swallowing light as it expands. It devours the street, then spreads like a plague across the entire district. Buildings vanish. Corpses are ripped from the earth and hurled into neighboring quarters, crashing like meteors.

Celeste stands amidst the inferno. One arm hangs limp, bleeding. The earth beneath her feet is scorched into glass. Her breathing is shallow. Still, she stands.

Across the devastation, Ryusaki stares at her, his mask of arrogance cracking.

"You are—not dead, how... Fafnir, rage."

The shadow in the sky responds.

It condenses, reshaping into a colossal black dragon— a silhouette so dark it devours definition. No eyes. No scales. Just void. A beast carved from darkness.

It opens its maw. From the darkness, beams of death erupt.

Celeste runs, diving between crumbling structures. The laser-like attacks pursue her with relentless precision, trailing her like cursed missiles.

A voice hisses in her ear.

"Why'd you take the first hit?" Mephisto growls.

"I underestimated it." Celeste replies through gritted teeth. "My ego won."

She keeps running.

Behind her, Ryusaki remains still. He doesn't pursue. Instead, he snaps his fingers.

Another beam descends, slamming into the shattered district. When the dust settles, it leaves behind something... unnatural.

A staircase— formed from scorched stone, spiraling upward into the sky.

Ryusaki ascends, step by step, as if time belongs to him. At the top, he sits like a warlord over the battlefield.

From this vantage, he watches Celeste— now in a different part of the city, sprinting through a European-style district as the black dragon's beams raze everything behind her.

"Hunt or be hunted." he mutters. "But I need more power. I have to finish her. One ambush from her and I'm done."

He raises a hand.

Across Emberium, organic mass stirs. It writhes and pulses through the streets, rising like a tide. It forms marbles— at first, just a handful. Then thousands. Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Just death—

Celeste turns a corner— another beam crashes into the district. The explosion shatters stone and steel. She dives, dodging by a whisper. Shrapnel rains from the sky. In the distance, she watches bodies— what's left of them— lift into the air and spiral into marbles.

The next beam comes. She intercepts it, redirecting it through an abandoned mansion. The detonation is deafening. Her scythe shatters from the impact.

What remains of the district is unrecognizable. Burned earth. Twisted metal. Charred air.

Celeste walks through the ruin, broken weapon in hand, toward the remnants of the mansion. She steps atop what once was a rooftop, and gazes up at the nightmarish sky.

"You really want it like this." she says, voice calm yet cold. "Truly ready to kill everything and everyone just to reach your goal."

Then she laughs— low, maniacal, echoing through the remains.

"Mephisto... I'm no longer a knight. I chose sorcery because I lost that feeling— the weight of the living. I lost the meaning of being a knight."

Her eyes glow faintly.

"That's what he doesn't understand. A true mage has ideals. And they don't care about death. They never did. He tries to unite things that are fundamentally opposed."

Silence.

Then Mephisto speaks softly, as if questioning the shape of her soul.

"But... is that really true, Celeste?"

Celeste shakes her head slowly, the wind brushing strands of hair across her bloodstained cheek. Her eyes remain fixed on the sky— on the silhouette of the dragon, then on Ryusaki, seated like a god among the ruins.

"That's something we want to believe." she says under her breath, voice steady. "We do care… but our goals have a meaning far greater than death."

She clenches her fist.

"That's the only difference. That's what makes us mages."

Her gaze sharpens.

"I don't have the urge to protect something anymore…"

Her voice trails off as she lifts her eyes once again— this time to the grotesque shadow hovering above Emberium.

"…but if he reaches the world with his ideology…"

The wind howls.

"…the world will change. For the worse."

She turns slowly, her gaze traveling across the scorched remains of Emberium. Smoke trails from shattered towers. Once-proud spires lie broken in the dust. Homes are silent. The academy is no more. Mages— dead, turned into marbles.

Then she looks back— toward Ryusaki.

"He is sitting on his perverted throne of death. Playing king. Failing to grasp the fundamentals."

With quiet determination, Celeste reaches to the back of her head and pulls the pins from her hair. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply— one last breath.

Her fingers hover over her heart. And then—

She heard voices from her fallen comrades.

"Celeste…"

"I want to fight. I want my legacy to be a magnum opus of sorcery. I want to evolve. I want satisfaction."

– Johnny.

Celeste whispers, "I hope you got that, Johnny."

She glances toward the shattered ruins of the old academy.

"I wanted to grant my children, and their children, the best future. To show them that aging is not inevitable. I will grant them immortality. That magic can be a gift."

– Sena.

"You reached your goal." Celeste says softly. "I'm sorry you died so soon."

"I wanted to restore nature. The destruction humans— it's not natural. I wanted the world to remember beauty. And change it forever"

– Jarkata.

She closes her eyes for a heartbeat. "I'll cherish it now, Jarkata. I swear."

A silence falls again.

Then Mephisto speaks, his voice a whisper.

"What is your plan… Celeste?"

She smiles, the wind lifting her hair. "Call me by my true name." she says. "No more hiding, Mephisto."

A soft yellow glow gathers at her feet, and nostalgia floods her features.

"Merlin… You always wanted me to be a mage. Someone to talk with you about the philosophy of sorcery. About the nature of reality. About dreams and logic. But I was stubborn."

She exhales.

"I realized too late what it means to fight for an ideal."

Celeste stretches her body skyward, her silhouette rising against the ruined skyline.

Her eyes begin to glow— one black, one blood red.

"I have no regrets." she says calmly. "Because I was your knight, Arthur. I am the only one who survived."

Her voice becomes a vow.

"Arthur Pendragon. I am your thirteenth knight."

Suddenly, the black aura swallows her body— twisting like ink in water, wrapping around her limbs. Her clothes tear away and reform, reshaped by the surge of magic.

A new armor for war.

A black chestplate, edged with ancient runes. A flowing battle skirt of obsidian metal. Her hair floats into the wind.

In her hands, a new scythe forms— black and white, double-edged and elegant. The edge gleams like moonlight on still water. Her new form glows white, layered with black metal.

And in her voice, the two speak as one:

"I AM—"

"CELESTIA—KNIGHT OF DEATH!"

The earth shudders.

A massive beam crashes down from the dragon's maw.

Celestia raises one hand and snaps.

The beam implodes, collapsing into itself in silence. Gone. Erased.

Far above, Ryusaki jolts on his throne of scorched stone. His eyes narrow.

Something is wrong. A new aura rises. Something ancient. Something unforgiving.

Celestia lowers her hand, her voice calm and resolute.

"Arthur. Merlin. My squad. My friends… Maybe I will join you soon"

She lifts her blade.

"I will carry your legacy. I promise."

Her smile fades. Her expression is serious— pure focus and concentration.

"I still have some business to do"