A world where hope does not exist.

A world scarred and broken.

Despair.

Decay.

Pale, skeletal fingers grip a heavy, rusted blade, cleaving through corpse after reanimated corpse, carving out a small patch of peace in what was once her homeland.

Yet death continues to spread.

Unstoppable. Uncontainable.

"Clang—"

A metal helmet falls to the ground.

Revealing a face half-ruined.

One side hollow, the other still clinging to flesh. In the empty socket of the hollow side, a faint blue soulfire flickers, following its owner’s gaze toward the night sky.

In the end, she was powerless.

Unable to prevent the tragedies of this world, unable to protect the peace of Clawphire Territory.

The tide of undead came.

And utterly destroyed her home.

The villagers fled in terror, leaving behind empty villages that creaked in the deathly wind, haunted by flocks of skeletal birds.

"Screech—"

Emerald gemstone eyes, once bright, now dull and hollow.

"Screech—"

From within her armor, the sound of bones nearing their breaking point, carrying unspeakable pain and sorrow.

Hesitation.

Fear.

Reluctance.

Servia sits at the entrance of a decaying mansion.

Looking back, staring, lost in thought for a long time at the half-familiar scenery.

Finally, she stands.

Brushing the dust from her armor with delicate, meticulous motions.

Then, running a finger along the edge of her blade, testing its sharpness.

Once everything is in order, Servia steps inside the rotting mansion, gazing at what was once her home, at the remnants of memories scattered among the ruins. Her body stands still, but her soul feels wrenched away.

Lifeless.

Numb as a puppet.

"Father, Mother."

"Even if I am the last one left, I will fight for Clawphire until my final breath."

Her voice is calm, resigned to death.

The false hero steps through the gates, charging toward the endless tide of undead, sword in hand, sprinting into the wind—toward her demise.

"Cross Slash!"

She shouts.

She swings.

The heavy blade arcs with a dazzling light.

Servia’s eyes lose their luster, like withered flowers, as she fights mindlessly on the battlefield, until her body can no longer stand, until her soul can no longer endure.

The shadow of despair has long since consumed her heart.

"Is this…"

"The fate of a false hero…?"

Death looms before her.

The girl weeps, laughs, her ruined face twisting into an ugly expression.

She waits for death.

But someone pulls her back into the world of the living.

"Lord Xu Xi, it seems I’ve troubled you again," the false hero stumbles to her feet, her hollow heart finding something to cling to.

People need purpose to live.

Be it pleasure.

Strength.

Emotion.

Or the pursuit of a goal.

Servia accepts Xu Xi’s invitation, leaving the desolate Clawphire Territory behind, riding a spectral raven toward distant lands.

She gives herself two reasons.

First, to repay Xu Xi for saving her life, to assist him in his research.

Second, to journey with him, to save this dying world.

"Lord Xu Xi, will we succeed?"

"...I don’t know."

The man answers quickly, sighing, his voice dissipating into the tainted sky.

The state of the wizarding world is too dire. Xu Xi himself has no confidence, unable to give Servia a definitive answer.

But he will try.

Within his power, he will attempt to avert this tragedy.

That is enough.

For now, it is enough.

The girl smiles faintly, feeling that traveling with Xu Xi is her fortune.

"Perhaps… Lord Xu Xi is the true hero," the thought flashes in her mind, and Servia instinctively shifts slightly, maintaining a proper distance between them.

If she gets too close…

She might feel embarrassed…

"Servia, you can ease up on your training a little."

"Eh? But if I don’t train hard, I won’t be able to help you."

On their journey to the Divine Plateau, Servia maintains an intense regimen.

Practicing swordsmanship.

Studying sorcery.

Her determination is astonishing, enough to surprise even Xu Xi, who urges her to rest.

Though her undead body feels no fatigue, delving into sorcery places immense strain on her soul.

"No, I can’t rest!"

The usually obedient hero is unusually stubborn today, insisting she must grow stronger to be of use to Xu Xi sooner.

Xu Xi has no choice.

He lightly taps her soul with a spell.

"Ah—ow—"

The hero relents.

Sitting properly in her chair, she obeys and rests quietly.

The night sky is unnatural—a blood moon casts its crimson glow to the horizon, staining the stars red, as if blood has been embedded into the night.

Dinner arrives.

Xu Xi and Servia sit across from each other.

On the left, normal human food. On the right, a plate of glowing necrotic mushrooms.

They eat in silence.

Suddenly, the sky outside is torn apart by a blizzard, gray-white snow obscuring the distant mountains, blanketing the land.

"Winter has come…"

"And with the snow, the New Year approaches."

Xu Xi muses on how quickly time passes, quietly planning their next steps in the wizarding world.

The snow falls endlessly, continuing even as Xu Xi drifts into sleep.

The next morning, the first thing he does is check the storm’s intensity, worried it might delay their journey.

Fortunately, the blizzard has ceased, leaving the distant mountains and nearby trees in serene stillness.

"Crunch—crunch—"

Xu Xi steps out of the makeshift sorcery workshop, his boots sinking into thick snow. Then, he notices something surprising.

"Servia."

"Yes, I’m here."

"Did you do all this alone?"

"Yes, Lord Xu Xi."

Servia steps aside, revealing a row of meticulously crafted snowmen.

The girl looks slightly embarrassed.

She explains that last night, bored and forbidden from training, she passed the time by building them.

"Did I disturb you?" Her voice is tinged with worry.

"No. Beautiful things are rare," Xu Xi replies with a smile.

Loose snowflakes drift from the sky, landing gently in his palm before being pressed onto an unfinished snowman.

The hero’s craftsmanship is impressive.

Lifelike, vivid.

Most of the snowmen depict faces Xu Xi doesn’t recognize—but among them, he spots one of himself.

Leaning in, he finds it amusing.

"Thank you, Servia. You’ve made me look quite handsome," Xu Xi turns to thank her.

"Ah, well… it’s nothing worth thanking me for…"

The hero fidgets.

Avoiding his gaze.

Her fingers twist nervously.

She’s blushing.