Lórien's world had completely shattered.
His parents had been tortured beyond recognition, and Scarlett had forced him to kill his own wife. As if that wasn't enough, his daughter had died right in front of him.
Now, he just sat there, staring blankly into the empty space. His body trembled uncontrollably, and his face was pale.
His anger was beyond words. He wanted to scream, to curse, to say something—anything—but his mind couldn't even process what to say. The rage was too much for him to handle.
Suddenly, his chest tightened, and his vision blurred. Blood gushed from his mouth as his blood pressure skyrocketed, but Scarlett wasn't done.
With a cold smile, she pulled a katana from her space inventory. Without hesitation, she swung it, beheading both Lysander and Luna in front of him.
The sight made Lórien snap.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His eyes burned red with rage as he screamed, "AHHHHHHH!"
His voice echoed through the air, filled with pain and fury.
"Someone! Devil, angel, goddess, god—if there's anyone out there who can give me the power to kill this bitch, I'll give anything in return!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.
Scarlett smirked, crossing her arms. "Hmph, no one can save you from me," she sneered.
"Someone, please! I want revenge!" he screamed again, but the heavens remained silent.
For a moment, everything seemed hopeless.
Then, something unexpected happened.
A glowing screen appeared before him, his status window opening up with a soft chime.
A notification popped up.
<Notification: Supreme Being Sylvania Yog-Sothoth wants to make a contract with you.>
<Do you accept? [Yes] or [No]>
Lórien's trembling body stilled as he stared at the screen. For the first time in what felt like forever, a flicker of hope lit up inside him.
"Someone... Someone actually wants to help," he thought, his heart racing.
But he knew Scarlett would notice if he accepted too obviously. So, he closed his eyes and thought, *Yes, I accept.*
The next moment, his expression turned darker.
<Error! >
<Error! Error!>
The screen turned red, glitching wildly as if it were broken.
Lórien's chest heaved as his last shred of hope crumbled into despair.
---
Far away, in the ancient castle of the first demon king, Avalokishva—known to many as Avion—sat by the window, staring at the vast, endless sky.
His expression was calm, yet his crimson eyes gleamed with a knowing light.
"Sylvania," he muttered softly, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Your habit of bullying the weak hasn't gone away yet, right?
He leaned back, resting his head against the window frame.
"It's too early for someone like you to interfere with her. She's not strong enough yet. And besides…" he said, gazing at the clouds with a faint smirk, "this universe isn't your playground. I had no choice but to step in."
The so-called error that had ruined Lórien's contract wasn't a coincidence.
It was Avion's doing.
------------
Lórien's face twisted with rage as he glared at Scarlett's mocking smile. To him, Scared was the one who did it.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His voice erupted, filled with pain and fury, "Scarlett Nova! I curse you! Just like I've lost my loved ones, you will lose at least one of your closest people! Remember my wor—"
Before he could finish, his words were cut short.
Lórien's head was severed from his neck in a swift, merciless strike.
It was Lunatic who had done it.
Scarlett didn't even flinch. She didn't spare a second to consider Lórien's final words, dismissing them as meaningless. For her, this was just another step in her plan.
They had killed him without hesitation because they didn't want to wait any longer. Time had the power to dull even the sharpest emotions, and Scarlett needed Lórien's despair and hatred to be at their peak.
Scarlett had a goal—a "Fallen Soul."
Fallen souls were rare, formed when emotions like greed, lust, despair, hatred, or ego reached their absolute peak. They were powerful and incredibly valuable, and Scarlett had chosen Lórien for a reason.
Lórien had weaknesses—his love for his family, his noble ideals, and his pure heart. These were things Scarlett could exploit.
Another reason was his unique soul. Lórien possessed a "Noble Soul," something as rare as a Fallen Soul. Noble Souls were pure and virtuous, but Scarlett believed that if a soul had the potential to become noble, it also had the potential to fall into darkness.
This was the perfect moment to strike.
Lórien's mind and body had been pushed to their limits. Any more waiting would have dulled his rage and despair. By killing him now, Scarlett ensured his emotions were at their peak.
As Lórien's body fell to the ground, his soul emerged, glowing ominously.
It was pitch black, swirling with an intense, hateful aura that seemed to reach out, trying to strangle Scarlett.
The gamble had paid off.
Scarlett had obtained a Fallen Soul.
The soul was brimming with despair, hatred, and an overwhelming grudge. It was so filled with resentment that it could also be called a "Grudge Soul." Even though it bore immense hatred for Scarlett, it was powerless to harm her.
Lunatic stepped forward, her hands glowing as she collected the soul. Most of the onlookers remained oblivious, unable to see the soul with their naked eyes. Only a few, those with special abilities, could sense what had just happened.
Scarlett turned to the crowd with a calm smile, waving her hand as she addressed them. Her voice was clear and steady.
"And so, the traitors have been dealt with," she said. "Let this serve as a lesson to anyone who thinks of betraying their people. Although I am a dragon and my companions are demons and monsters, we stand with humanity. We will always fight to protect humanity."
Her speech was short, but it left a lasting impression on the human onlookers.
To them, Scarlett wasn't just a dragon woman surrounded by demons and monsters. She was a symbol of hope—someone willing to stand against evil to protect humanity.
As Scarlett and her group left the scene, the humans couldn't help but admire her.
Her beauty, her strength, and her apparent compassion all seemed larger than life. To them, she wasn't just a hero—she was a goddess.
----------------
The soft glow of the setting sun faded into darkness, and the quiet evening gave way to the approaching night. It was the same time as a few days ago when Scarlett's village, Dreadhaven, was mercilessly invaded. The memory of that horrific night still burned in the hearts of the villagers who had survived.
But tonight, hope filled the air.
Scarlett stood at the heart of Dreadhaven, her long purple hair swaying gently in the breeze, her eyes hidden behind a purple blindfold. Around her, countless villagers formed a wide circle, their faces painted with both hope and hesitation. In the center of the circle lay the preserved corpses of the fallen, carefully brought by Xao Feng, who had ensured the bodies were untouched and ready for this moment.
Every eye was on Scarlett, including those of the influential figures of the village—Baron, Li Feng, Reiza, Lunatic, and even the quiet Rin.
Scarlett took a deep breath, steadying her emotions. She reached into her space inventory and pulled out the Fallen Soul.
It was a dark, swirling mass of energy, pulsing with a hateful aura that sent shivers through the crowd. The soul seemed alive, writhing and resisting, but Scarlett's grip was firm.
"This is for all of you," Scarlett said, her voice steady but carrying the weight of her promise. "I swore I would bring back those we lost. Tonight, that promise will be fulfilled."
She closed her eyes, channeling her mana into the Fallen Soul. Her hands began to glow, a brilliant blue light emanating from her palms. The villagers gasped as the Fallen Soul started to crack.
"Break!" Scarlett commanded, her voice echoing through the still night.
The Fallen Soul shattered into countless glowing fragments, each one holding a soul. The tiny orbs of light floated in the air, shimmering like stars in the night sky. It was mesmerizing, like watching fireflies or fireworks painting the heavens.
Scarlett raised her hands high, and the glowing fragments began to descend, one by one, toward the corpses of the fallen villagers.
Her mana flowed like a river, weaving through the air in intricate patterns, connecting each soul to its rightful body. The sky glowed with a dim blue light, creating a serene and otherworldly atmosphere.
The process was slow and delicate. Scarlett's focus was absolute as she merged each soul with its body, gradually healing the damage and breathing life back into the lifeless forms. The villagers watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with wonder and anticipation.
The first villager gasped as life returned to their body, their chest rising and falling as they took their first breath. Tears streamed down their face as they looked around, confused but alive.
One by one, the dead were revived.
The glow in the sky grew brighter with each soul restored, and a wave of emotions swept through the crowd. Families reunited, crying and hugging their loved ones. Friends held each other tightly, unable to contain their relief and happiness.
Cheers erupted among the villagers, their voices echoing through the night.
Children ran to their parents, their laughter mixing with the joyful cries of the crowd. Groups of villagers embraced each other tightly, unable to hold back their happiness.
Finally, the last soul merged with its body. A hush fell over the crowd as the last villager opened their eyes, blinking in disbelief.
Scarlett lowered her hands, her breathing heavy but steady. The glowing lights faded, leaving only the faint shimmer of mana lingering in the air.
The villagers erupted into cheers and applause, their gratitude pouring out in waves.
Scarlett managed a small smile, exhaustion evident in her posture. She looked at the crowd, her heart swelling with relief and pride.
"This is what i fight for," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of her conviction.
Tonight, Dreadhaven wasn't just a village of survivors. It was a village reborn, united by hope and gratitude for the woman who had brought them back from the depths of despair.
The joyful cheers that had filled the air suddenly stopped, and an unsettling silence spread across the crowd. The villagers exchanged nervous glances, their excitement replaced by confusion. Scarlett, who had just completed the revival ritual, noticed the change immediately.
She turned to see where everyone's attention was focused. Her sharp senses quickly picked up the gazes directed at two particular individuals standing near the edge of the circle.
Sierra and Semiath.
The two hobgoblins were widely known in Dreadhaven—Semiath as the strong and reliable leader of the hobgoblins, and Sierra as the most beautiful female goblin in the village. Now, they stood frozen, staring at themselves in utter disbelief.
"What happened to my green skin?" Sierra exclaimed, her voice filled with shock.
The villagers murmured in confusion, their eyes glued to the two figures. Scarlett's expression remained calm, but even she could feel the tension rising in the air.
Semiath, once a burly hobgoblin, now looked like a muscular young man with smooth, white skin. His features were incredibly handsome, with a chiseled jawline and striking eyes. A single horn protruded elegantly from his forehead, glowing faintly in the dim light.
Sierra, on the other hand, had undergone a similar transformation. Her short hair framed her delicate face, and her attire gave her a rebellious, gyaru-like appearance. Her white skin seemed to radiate a faint glow, making her look otherworldly.
Both of them kept glancing at their hands, arms, and reflections in the calm surface of a nearby water barrel, their stunned expressions betraying their confusion.
"What… what's happening to us?" Semiath murmured, his deep voice tinged with unease.
"Wait a minute…" Reiza, who had been observing the situation quietly, suddenly gasped.
"What is it?" Scarlett asked, her voice calm but curious.
Reiza turned toward Scarlett, her usually sharp eyes filled with something between awe and surprise. "This isn't normal," she began. "There's a legend I heard a long time ago… a very old one. In ancient times, goblins weren't like they are now. They were considered one of the most powerful and intelligent species. There was a particular race of goblins far superior to the rest.
"They were called the White Jade Goblins."