In the northernmost reaches of Arithea, where the land meets the edge of the Dark Sea, there lived a woman whose name was spoken with reverence and awe—Violet. Known as the Witch of the North, Violet was not merely a figure of magic but an embodiment of mastery and wisdom. Her reputation spanned beyond the northern territories, for she was not only the greatest magician in all of Arithea but also its most accomplished researcher, teacher, and master of all crafts.
To look upon Violet was to behold a beauty so flawless it felt almost dangerous—an ethereal perfection that commanded immediate reverence. Her long, vibrant violet hair was gathered into a sleek, high ponytail that fell elegantly down her back, framing a sharp and regal visage. Yet, it was her gaze that truly captivated and intimidated those who met it. Beneath violet-hued eyelids and finely arched violet brows lay eyes of absolute mystery: deep violet irises centered around striking, black pupils shaped like a sharp "X."
Her presence was as commanding as her mind, her silhouette flawless and statuesque. She dressed in the color of her namesake, wearing a fitted violet dress beneath a flowing robe etched with intricate, swirling engravings that seemed to hum with latent power. Even her hands were encased in fine gloves, similarly engraved with protective arcane sigils—a testament to a master who had woven magic into the very threads of her attire.
Violet's magic was legendary, her command over the arcane arts unparalleled. Her spells were woven with threads of ancient power, and her knowledge of magical lore was profound. From the simplest charms to the most complex rituals, she demonstrated an unrivaled skill that left even the most seasoned sorcerers in awe.
But Violet was more than just a magician. She was the greatest researcher, dedicating her life to unraveling the mysteries of Arithea. Her vast library, nestled in the heart of her northern sanctuary, the Moonpetal Sanctuary, was filled with tomes and scrolls that held the secrets of both the magical and natural worlds. Her curiosity drove her to explore forgotten places and unearth lost knowledge, making her a beacon of wisdom for scholars and seekers alike.
As a teacher, Violet's prowess was equally impressive. She trained apprentices with a blend of patience and strictness, molding them into formidable practitioners of magic. This approach led many of her students to become famous and honorable figures, while others became well-known professors of magic just like her. The teachings she provided were not about the spells alone but extended to understanding the balance of power, the ethics of magic, and the responsibilities of wielding such power.
Despite her achievements, Violet's greatest role was that of a master—the master of all disciplines she undertook. Her expertise knew no bounds, and she was revered not only for her magical capabilities but for her profound understanding of the world's intricate workings. Her command over the elements, her skill in divination, and her ability to traverse realms were nothing short of divine.
Yet, behind her divine capabilities lay the quiet isolation of a mind that walked a path few could ever follow. For the Moonpetal Sanctuary was not merely a haven of knowledge; it was built directly upon the frozen, haunted ruins of her birthright. Long before she was known as the Witch of the North, she was the Witch Princess of the Grand Kingdom of Varnamount—one of the four proud nations that once ruled the brutal Frostgrave Sea. Now, as the sole living testament to a fallen empire, her unmatched mastery was both a crown and a cage, a solitary reminder of a world that had turned to ash.
Violet's life took an unexpected turn when she received a letter from a renowned captain of the Lion's Fang. The ship, celebrated for its daring expeditions and unparalleled crew, was preparing for a voyage into the uncharted territories of the Dark Sea. The captain, Elias Thorne, had heard of Violet's legendary abilities and sought her guidance for their ambitious quest.
"Elias Thorne, I never thought you and your crew are brave enough to come here at Frostgrave Sea"
"Mistress Violet, the Lion's Fang have the most bravest heart among all of the pirate crews, this sea is only a plaything to us."
The meeting took place in the grand hall of Violet's northern sanctuary, where the captain and his crew were met with the awe-inspiring sight of her magical abode. The walls were lined with ancient manuscripts, and a shimmering aura of enchantment filled the air.
Captain Thorne, a tall man with an air of determination and an infectious charisma, addressed Violet with a respectful bow. "Princess Violet, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am aware that you knew about me so I don't need to introduce myself. As to why we came all the way here because We seek your expertise for a venture that promises to be the most momentous of our lives."
Violet didn't answer right away. Instead, she subjected Elias to a piercing, unblinking death stare.
Beneath her violet-hued eyelids, her X-shaped black pupils narrowed, locking onto the captain with a terrifying intensity. A heavy, suffocating pressure instantly flooded the room, so thick it felt as though the atmospheric pressure had plummeted. Elias's infectious charisma vanished in a heartbeat; behind him, his hardened, seasoned crew visibly recoiled. One of his men stepped back, knees buckling, while the others stood paralyzed, their breath catching in their throats as their survival instincts screamed at them to flee.
"And who, exactly, gave you the audacity to give you a hint of my location and seek me out?" Violet's voice cut through the freezing silence like a razor. "Who referred you to my sanctuary?"
Swallowing the lump of dread in his throat, Elias forced his voice to remain steady, refusing to break eye contact. "Your sister, Admiral Jalia, and your friend Commodore Kaiser, Princess. They assured us you were the only one capable."
The names did not soften her expression. "Names are easily spoken by liars," Violet murmured coldly.
Before the crew could even register her movement, the intricate engravings on her gloves flared with a blinding, violent light. The fabric of her gloves dissolved, reshaping and extending outward in a cascade of liquid metal until it solidified into a massive, imposing greatsword. Searing, crackling arcs of plasma magic hummed violently along the edge of the blade, scorching the very air and illuminating the room in a deadly glow. She leveled the plasma-imbued greatsword directly at Elias's throat, the heat radiating off the weapon singing the collar of his coat.
"S-Sir Elias! That's... that's the greatsword Solitude!" one of Elias's crew members shouted in sheer terror, his voice shaking violently as he recognized the legendary blade.
Violet ignored the outburst, her focus locked entirely on the captain. "Give me a reason not to cleave your ship and your crew in two," she demanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Show me your proof."
Sensing his life hanging by a thread, Elias slowly reached into his inner coat pocket, moving with absolute care so as not to trigger a fatal reflex. He produced a sealed parchment and held it out with a trembling but steady hand. "Their official word, Your Highness. Bearing the crest of Varnamount."
Violet's sharp eyes scanned the wax seal. Recognizing the distinct, familiar, and playful magical signature woven into the wax, the tension in her regal shoulders finally eased.
"I see she's still alive," Violet murmured.
A soft, rare smile graced her lips—a fleeting glimpse of the princess she used to be, completely melting the icy terror that had paralyzed the room only moments before. The playful essence woven into the seal was quintessentially Jalia; a stubborn, defying spark proving that even though the Grand Kingdom of Varnamount had fallen to ash, her sister's spirit remained gloriously unbroken. For a brief second, the suffocating weight of Violet's isolation lifted, replaced by a quiet, profound relief.
With a fluid twist of her wrist, the crackling plasma magic dissipated into harmless violet embers, and the monstrous Solitude collapsed back into the fine, engraved gloves covering her hands. The suffocating aura that had paralyzed the room evaporated in an instant, allowing the crew to finally gasp for air.
She carefully traced the edges of the wax with her newly restored gloved finger, holding the letter as if it were the most precious artifact in her sanctuary. Setting the letter down, she stepped back and sat down in her chair, her demeanor shifting straight back to that of a detached, calculating scholar.
"Hm. Where do you need my expertise for this so-called life-changing venture of yours?"
Elias hesitated for a beat, exchanging a lingering glance with his crew as they reeled from their brief brush with death. He cleared his raspy throat, forcing his voice to regain its usual steady warmth. "The C-Corrupted Sea, Miss Violet. W-we want to explore it for a treasure we've discovered."
At the mere mention of the name, the fleeting warmth vanished from Violet's face, replaced once more by an icy, lethal aura. A dangerous violet spark ignited within her X-shaped pupils, and a localized tempest of suffocating mana began to ripple from her form, heavier and more menacing than before.
"Captain Thorne," she said, her voice dropping to a low, blade-sharp whisper that echoed off the stone walls. "I did not take you for a common, greedy pirate. When your crew first arrived, I assumed you required my services perhaps to train a talented initiate to join your ranks, or simply to discipline your own men. Now, my curiosity is piqued. What could possibly possess you to turn your gaze toward that treacherous sea? What is it you seek beneath those accursed waves?"
Thorne's eyes flickered with unease, a visible knot of tension tightening his jaw, though he refused to let his gaze waver under her suffocating pressure.
"We pursue the Eye of Arithea," Thorne answered, his voice carrying the gravity of a man possessed by a grand design. "It is an artifact of ancient origin and untold, disastrous power. Legends have long whispered of its final resting place within those black waters, and the last surviving clues were finally unlocked for us by the Maylan people. That is exactly why we have come to you. The C-Corrupted Sea is a graveyard—a realm of madness where few dare to sail, let alone return. We need your unmatched experience, Your Highness. We need your magic to guide us through the horrors that await."
Violet's posture stiffened, her sharp mind immediately focusing on his words. "The Maylans are a secretive, ancient people," she murmured, her voice filled with doubt. "They do not give away big secrets easily. If they have truly found a path through the world's graveyard, I want to see the evidence. Produce the clue, Captain. I do not stake my life—or the memory of my kingdom—on rumors and grand speeches."
Elias nodded seriously, reaching into a second leather bag strapped across his chest. He pulled out a smooth, completely black stone orb, roughly the size of an orange. It wasn't made of crystal or glass, but a strange, dark stone that seemed to drink in the light of the room. Step by step, under her watchful gaze, he walked up and placed it carefully on the desk before her.
Violet leaned forward. Her sharp, X-shaped black pupils widened slightly as she looked at the object. For the first time during their meeting, a flash of real confusion crossed her beautiful face. As the greatest researcher in Arithea, she had studied thousands of artifacts, yet this sphere had no visible magic symbols, no magic lines, and no clear design. To her eyes, it looked completely dead.
Seeing her brow furrow in confusion, Elias quickly spoke up before the heavy pressure of her aura could return. "The Chief of the Maylans told me to hand it directly to you, Duchess. He claimed that only the Witch of the North has the exact magic needed to wake it up. To anyone else, it is nothing more than a dead rock."
Violet looked from the orb to Elias, her expression thoughtful. Slowly, she let out a breath and lifted a gloved hand. The detailed carvings on her palm began to shine with a soft, bright purple light. The moment her fingers touched the top of the stone, the magic reacted.
With a soft click, the pitch-black surface cracked open into a beautiful pattern of bright, glowing lines. The sphere floated a few inches off the desk, spinning slowly as it projected a bright 3D map of light into the middle of the room. The lights of the palace dimmed automatically, like the night sky, as a large, ghostly figure appeared within the glowing mist.
It was a moving picture, cast in rich, ghostly colors. Standing before them was an old man with a wrinkled face, wearing the traditional bone outfits of the deep-sea tribes. His eyes were entirely white, with no pupils, yet they seemed to stare directly at Violet through the ancient recording.
"Greetings, Fallen Princess of Varnamount," the figure spoke. His voice sounded like crashing rocks, echoing through the room with a deep echo. "I am Chief Ofkregarit of the Maylan people. If you are seeing this, then Captain Thorne has kept his word, and my messenger has reached the only mind smart enough to understand what must be done."
The projection changed. The Chief's image faded, giving way to a swirling, very clear magical map of Arithea's forgotten oceans.
"Hear my words, Violet," Ofkregarit's ghostly voice continued. "The Eye of Arithea is no myth. It is actually a lost jewel once set into the Staff of Prometheus—an ancient artifact whose true origins are still completely unknown. It was born from the pure power of the gods when they still walked among us in the flesh. When Malvek, the Black Saint, broke the peace of our world, the Eye was torn from the staff and swallowed by the deep ocean. For five hundred years, its scary power has slept. But the recent, wild mutations of the sea monsters prove that the artifact is waking. We have found its exact location by following the hidden magic leaking from the ocean floor."
The magical map zoomed in rapidly, focusing on a terrifying area of rough water where two different seas crashed together. On one side, the water tore with huge, wild storms; on the other, the sea glowed with a creepy dark red light, choked by the leftover smoke of the ancient curse.
"But the deep ocean defends its prizes," Ofkregarit warned, his ghostly face appearing again for a second, serious and sad. "The Corrupted Sea is impossible to sail through normally. To reach the resting place of the Eye, you must sail the Lion's Fang directly through a tight gap—the exact, dangerous line where the lawless waters of the Corsairs Sea meet the black, dead waters of the Corrupted Sea. Only along that thin line will the currents open a path to the relic. Go with the gods' leftover gift, Witch of the North. For if the Eye falls to the monsters of the dark... Arithea will know no dawn."
With a final, crackling hum, the projection faded into harmless light particles. The stone sphere fell softly back onto the desk, its glowing lines fading until it was just a plain black rock once more.
Violet's expression grew even more intense, her aura pulsing like a storm about to break. "The Corrupted Sea is a vortex of pure malice. How could the Maylans possibly possess such a clue? But more importantly, Captain—why do you seek an artifact of such catastrophic power?"
Thorne's gaze remained steady, though the tension in his voice lingered. "The Eye of Arithea holds the potential to alter the course of history. It could bring prosperity and change to our broken world—but such power demands absolute caution. We believe that with your aid, we can uncover its secrets and ensure it never falls into the wrong hands."
Violet let out a cold, sharp laugh, her X-shaped pupils locking onto Thorne. "Prosperity? Change? You speak of it like it's just a shiny treasure, Captain. You don't truly understand what that jewel is, do you?"
She stood up slowly, the temperature in the room dropping as she spoke. "I know exactly what the Eye is for, because unlike you, I was actually there. I lived through the era when the gods walked among us. I saw them with my own eyes, a mere ten years before Malvek slaughtered them all in the Pantagon Skylands. And when the final war broke out, I watched the Hero clash endlessly with the Black Saint. I barely fled from the massive explosion caused by their magic, and I saw the Corrupted Sea form from the ashes of that battle."
She leaned over her desk, her gaze piercing right through him. "That jewel was used by Promytheus, the Light God. Long ago, its power was beautiful—it was used to give life and even revive the dead. But after the gods fell, that pure energy warped. Today, the Eye is the exact thing causing the horrible corruption of the creatures in the sea."
Violet laughed again, a dark, mocking sound that echoed off the stone walls. "And humans? It corrupts human beings so easily it's almost funny. A weak mortal mind stands absolutely no chance against it. It will twist your soul and turn you into a hideous monster before you can even blink."
She straightened up, her aura flaring one last time. "I am warning you, Captain—turn back. Leave it buried in the dark."
Thorne hesitated. The tension in the room was suffocating, and he could hear his crew shifting nervously behind him, terrified by her words. He swallowed hard, looking down for a brief moment as doubt crept into his mind. But then, he squared his shoulders and looked back up, his eyes filled with stubborn determination.
"I... I hear your warning, Miss Violet," Thorne said, his voice hesitant but steadying as he spoke. "I know it's madness. But our world is already broken and dying. If there is even a small chance that the Light God's power can change things for the better, I have to take it. My crew and I... we still want to go."
Violet narrowed her eyes, considering his words as the heavy weight of the past settled like iron in her thoughts. Elias stayed silent, waiting for her final judgment.
Finally, the heavy pressure in the room vanished completely. "Very well, Captain. I will join your expedition. The Maylans have never spoken falsely when it comes to ancient relics. But be warned—the journey ahead will test far more than our resolve. It will challenge everything we know about magic, reality… and ourselves."
She paused, a sharp, curious smile spreading across her face as her X-shaped pupils glinted in the dim light. "And besides... as a scholar who has already mastered almost everything in this world, I am very interested to see what it actually feels like to wield the power of a god."
Violet rose from her seat, the regal posture of a princess returning to her as she extended a small, ornate card etched with her sigil—the ancient, royal Sigil of Varnamount. "Take this. Since you and your men will likely need to prepare in the capital for a day or two before we depart, this token will grant you access to any high-end inn in the city—no questions asked."
Captain Thorne accepted the card with a respectful nod. "Thank you, Mistress Violet," he said, before turning and making his way out of the grand palace.
To make the journey down to the mainland from her isolated northern home, Violet traveled by sea just to visit someone she really needs now. She boarded a massive naval galleon and took the command of it by herself, cutting through the freezing waves of the Frostgrave Sea toward the powerful Akarone Empire—the very nation that had claimed the ruined, frozen territories of her fallen kingdom, Varnamount. Because of this complicated history and her sheer political importance, Violet had been betrothed to the empire's young prince.
Once the galleon reached the imperial port, a private carriage picked her up, transporting her to her personal manor within the empire's capital city.
Night had settled peacefully over the Akarone Empire where Violet's castle stands, the moon casting its pale light across the grand towers and bustling streets of the capital city of Merlin. Before entering her carriage, Violet paused and roamed her eyes across the distant landscape. Far on the horizon, she saw the Moonpetal Sanctuary glowing beautifully, looking like a beacon of silver as it was directly hit by the pure light of the moon.
All was still, until the distant echo of hurried footsteps came and a voice that tore through the calm like a blade.
"Miss Beatrice Violet!" a royal guard called out, breathless as he arrived at her manor gates. "The emperor summons you to Brim Palace. Immediately."
Holding a book she had kept with her during the voyage, Violet exhaled sharply through her nose, her brows tightening with irritation. Of course he summons me now… I have just stepped off the ship and rode this carriage. Could the emperor not wait until sunrise? Her velvet cloak swept across the carriage steps as she paused. This was not the first time Emperor William XIV had disrupted her peace for matters veiled in urgency and layered in self-interest.
"Croker, redirect to the Brim Palace"
"As you wish, Your Highness"
Soon, her carriage rolled through the glowing heart of Merlin. Outside the windows, citizens paused in their evening strolls to catch a glimpse of her—Miss Violet, the Witch of the Fallen Kingdom of the North, the woman whispered about in both reverence and fear. Some bowed. Others simply stared. She paid them no mind.
Her thoughts drifted elsewhere, her eyes tracing the majestic sights of the capital of Akarone.
How far this city has come... she mused, watching the magic-lit lanterns dance in the night breeze. And how long I've wandered its streets. So much has changed, yet so little has stayed the same. How many lifetimes have I outlived now? How many times have I transferred my soul from one vessel to another just to achieve this millennium of existence? She leaned back into her seat, her eyes trailing the towers and spires of the city she once helped build with spells.
When the carriage came to a halt at the towering gates of Brim Palace, she stepped down with poise and grace, her gown flows like shadow. The grand golden doors opened with ceremonial flourish, and she entered the gold plated hall where Emperor William XIV awaited. She walked gracefully on the marble floor of the courtroom, bowing respectfully, more out of protocol than genuine deference. "Your Majesty."
But William waved a dismissive hand, his voice sharp with impatience. "Spare me the formalities, Duchess. Why is the Lion's Fang here? Why have they come to your castle?" His tone was clipped, with the faintest edge of threat beneath the royal decorum.
Violet's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. So, he's watching more closely than I thought. She quickly realized how he knew; Captain Elias Thorne had used the ornate card she gave him, stamped with the Sigil of Varnamount, to secure a room at a high-end inn within the city, instantly alerting the imperial guards.
Violet's gaze hardened, her lips curling into a thin, displeased line. She hated being questioned—cornered. "They seek the Eye of Arithea," she answered bluntly. "They believe I can guide them into the Corrupted Sea."
The emperor suddenly burst into a loud, mocking laugh that echoed through the grand courtroom. He stepped down from his throne, slowly walking down the stairs until he was circling right around where Violet stood.
"The Eye of Arithea," he muttered, shaking his head. "The Eye of Arithea... The Eye of Arithea. Wow. The Eye of Arithea." He paused right in front of her, a twisted smile on his face. "The Eye of Arithea... that name sounds incredibly familiar to me."
He turned his head slightly and snapped his fingers at his royal assistant standing near the wall. "Bring me the Book of Artifacts. Now."
The assistant hurried off and returned quickly, holding a heavy, old leather book. William took it, flipped it open, and aggressively turned the pages until he found what he was looking for.
"Ah, here it is," William said, running his finger down the ancient text. He read it out loud in a dramatic voice. "The Eye of Arithea... a lost jewel of the gods. It holds the absolute power to control life and death, to revive the dead, and rewrite reality itself."
He slammed the book shut with a loud thud, handing it back to his assistant. He leaned in close to Violet, his eyes turning cold and venomous. "And you expect me to believe you're just acting as a simple guide, Violet? A power like that... to control life and death? You are going to take it for yourself. You want to use it for something terrible, don't you? To bring back your dead kingdom, or worse, to use its dark corruption against my Empire!"
She took a sharp breath, forcing her raging magic to settle just enough to explain the true purpose of the journey.
"The expedition isn't a plot to destroy your empire," she continued coldly. "Captain Thorne and his crew found a clue from the Maylan people. They truly believe this artifact can bring prosperity and save our broken world from dying. They came to me because the Corrupted Sea is a graveyard of madness. They need my knowledge and magic just to survive the journey and to ensure the artifact doesn't fall into the wrong hands. I am joining them to make sure that power is handled with absolute caution, not to use it for evil."
The emperor's eyes glinted with interest as he listened to her. He stood right before Violet, his presence filled with deliberate, regal weight. "Then betray them," he said calmly. "Take the Eye for yourself and offer it to this very empire and I might revive your kingdom. With its power, I can change Arithea's future. Imagine me—standing at the top of the world, everyone will bow to me, everyone will ask me to save them, Violet. Imagine!"
Violet didn't flinch, but her eyes narrowed into deadly slits, and a low growl vibrated deep in her throat. The air around her thrummed violently with suppressed power, so heavy that the ambient light in the grand hall began to flicker.
"I am not betraying them, William, they are my allies." she hissed, her voice cutting right through his delusional fantasy. "And I am absolutely not offering myself—or the fruits of my labor—to this hellish empire of yours. The sheer audacity you have to stand there and order me around like I am one of your mindless servants is disgusting. You forget who you are speaking to."
William's expression shifted from excited greed into one of bored amusement, but the sudden flash of heat behind his eyes betrayed his deeply wounded pride. He adjusted his royal robes, looking down his nose at her as he paced.
"Allies? You call those rodents your allies?" he scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "They're opportunists, mercenaries, Violet. Do you honestly think they wouldn't turn on you the moment they smell even a fraction of that power? They would slit your throat for a single coin if it meant getting ahead. And wait—I bet they were tasked also by other kingdoms to retrieve it. I have my eyes on the Western Seas, and I know they are desperate enough to hire filthy pirates."
"I trust them more than I trust an emperor who treats loyalty like a ccheap change," Violet snapped, her posture rigid and unyielding. "And don't delude yourself—where you stand right now, you hold no leash on me. I didn't swear loyalty to you, William. I serve my own fallen kingdom, not this empire nor the man sitting on its throne."
At that, William's smile vanished. He stepped back, face tightening, and returned to his throne in one sharp, angry motion.
"Then shall I take that as betrayal since you are trying to help the western seas to have such a powerful artifact?" he growled. "You forget who I am Duchess. I am the Empire. The Emperor, the one helped you. The King of the Northern seas. My word shapes law, my will shapes the future. I AM THE EMPIRE, VIOLET!"
"For an Emperor, you're a demon wearing a crown," she hissed. "You inherited a throne but not the wisdom to wield it. Markelle, your father, was a true ruler—compassionate, just, strong. I stood beside him with pride."
She took a bold step forward, her voice now shaking with disgust. "I can't believe he chose you as his successor. If I had seen this twisted side of yours… I would've stopped him myself."
The emperor's face twisted into a mockery of sympathy, but his eyes were cold and venomous.
"Criticize me all you want Violet. You always pretending to be above the game, yet here you are… like a dog clinging for life and power," he said. Then his voice turned to velvet and poison. "Once again, swear your loyalty to me, Violet. Betray those fools. Help me claim the Eye… and I will reshape the world—with you at my side. Immortal, unmatched, and adored."
Violet's magic surged in the room like static before a storm, the temperature rising a few degrees.
"I would rather walk into the depths of the Corrupted Sea alone," she said, flashing and magic circle of plasma on her hand "than sell my soul to a deluded tyrant."
William stood again, matching her fury with his own. "You think you're untouchable?" he snarled, raising his fist covered in black aura. "You think your magic makes you above me? Just because you are a strong savant doesn't mean a strong fighter like me has no match for you. I can get rid of you with my fist."
"You can try," she said coldly, her eyes glowing faintly with power. "But you'll find I am not so easily to be killed."
They stood there in tense silence, a storm of old grudges and bitter truths hanging heavy between them.
Then, as if shedding the moment like a snake's skin, William toned down his abilities, sat, and leaned back on his throne and flashed a smile—charming, false, and deadly.
"But of course," he said smoothly. "You'll come around, Violet. Because you want the Heart of Yggdrasil if I am not mistaken. And I'm the only one who can give it to you."
They argued—words like daggers, sharp and swift. Violet refused, at first. She spoke of honor, of consequence, of the Eye's dangerous allure. But William, ever cunning, had prepared his final move.
He held out a crystalline box, inside it a glowing fragment pulsing with ancient life—The Heart of Yggdrasil.
Violet froze.
Her breath caught in her chest. It was real. And it was whole.
With that artifact, she could complete the long-awaited potion—the one that would finally anchor her existence beyond time. True immortality. A dream she had 500 years in the making.
"You will not get a better offer," the emperor said, his smirk laced with cruelty. "Give me the Eye, and the Heart is yours."
Silence fell.
Then slowly, she nodded. "Very well, Your Majesty. I accept."
The emperor chuckled darkly as she turned to leave, his voice echoing in the grand hall like a shadow. "Wise choice, Violet. Very wise indeed. You are really clinging to the drops of immortality"
As she stepped out of the courtroom, her face remained expressionless, but her thoughts swirled like a storm. Damn him. He knows exactly where to strike…
Not long after, in the palace gardens, she crossed paths with Prince Alric—her betrothed.
He saw her expression and knew something had changed. "Did my father summoned you?" he said gently, reaching for her hand. "What did he ask of you?"
She hesitated, then told him everything—the Eye, the betrayal, the Heart of Yggdrasil. They spoke for what felt hours beneath the starlit canopy, words hushed, but emotions raw.
"I don't trust him," Alric murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But I trust you. Whatever you choose… I'll be at your side."
That night, their conversation slowly dissolved into quiet affection. Lips met. Fingers intertwined. And for a moment—just a brief one—Violet allowed herself to forget the politics, the danger, and the lies.
In his arms, she found the only thing in her long life that ever truly felt eternal.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Thorne approached her cautiously, his boots creaking against the wet deck. "You haven't said much since we left port."
Violet didn't look at him. Her eyes were locked onto a specific, empty patch of the churning black waves, staring so intensely it felt like she was looking right through the water.
"It's nothing," she said slowly, her voice carrying over the wind. "I just... felt something out there."
Thorne rubbed the back of his neck, looking uneasy. "My crew aren't feeling well either. They keep saying they feel like someone is watching them from right over there." He pointed out into the endless, suffocating darkness directly ahead of their ship.
"That is because Malvek's aura can still be felt," Violet replied coldly. "Even though we are only in the weak outer layer of the Corrupted Sea."
Thorne blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. "This nightmare... this is just the weak part of the sea?"
Violet finally turned her head, her X-shaped pupils scanning the deck. Several of Thorne's seasoned sailors were leaning over the wooden railings, violently vomiting into the ocean.
"The weak layer has enough dark energy to make non-magic users sick to their stomachs," Violet explained, her voice flat. "But once we cross into the Inner Layers, the pressure becomes real. If your men aren't strong enough, it might outright kill them."
Thorne swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. He took a step closer, his voice dropping below the sound of the roaring thunder. "Miss Violet... is Malvek still alive?"
Violet looked back out at the dark horizon, a shadow of grim realization crossing her face. "When we crossed the border into this sea, a terrible feeling washed over me. I can feel the Black Saint's gaze on us. I know he is still alive. And right now, I believe he is actively hunting me."
Thorne frowned, confused. "Hunting you? Why?"
"Because in my past vessel, when I went by the name Beatrix Fortuna, I was part of the Hero's party," Violet revealed quietly. "We were the ones who fought and supposedly killed Malvek all those years ago. And today... I am the only remaining member of that crew left alive."
Thorne stepped back, staring at her in absolute disbelief. The infectious charisma he usually carried completely vanished, replaced by pure shock. "You... you're Beatrix Fortuna? The legendary hero from the old stories?"
Violet gave a small, tired sigh. "I am. But I am not as powerful as I was back then, Captain. I had to fragment my magic and break it into pieces just so my current body could control it without tearing itself apart."
Thorne fell completely silent. His mind was racing, deeply bothered by the revelation. He stared at the woman before him, wanting to question her, to demand how it was even possible for someone to exist like this, jumping from one vessel to another across lifetimes.
Sensing the frantic questions building up in his head, Violet placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. The warmth of her magic instantly calmed his racing pulse.
"Do not look so worried, Captain," she said softly, giving him a reassuring nod to keep him from asking more. "The past is dead, and how I am still here does not matter right now. What matters is the present. Go back to your wheel, keep your eyes on the waves, and focus on keeping this ship afloat. I will handle the rest."
Thorne gave a nervous chuckle. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yes I guess?"
He smirked, though the worry in his eyes didn't completely fade. "Fair enough. Still, after what you just told me... I'm just glad you're on this ship, Mistress. Without your magic, we wouldn't survive a single day out here."
As the ship reached a terrifyingly dark area of the Corrupted Sea, they finally located the prize. Captain Thorne walked up to Violet, holding a gleaming golden chest.
"Violet!" he called out, his voice filled with pure excitement. "We're on the verge of making history. We've navigated the most treacherous waters, faced countless perils, and now we stand on the brink of holding the greatest treasure known to Arithea—the Eye of Arithea."
With the crew gathered around in eager anticipation, Thorne flipped the heavy latches open. Inside the chest, floating slightly above the velvet lining, was a radiant gem. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly light, casting eerie, glowing reflections across the faces of everyone on deck.
The crew instantly erupted into wild cheers. They shouted, pumped their fists in the air, and hugged one another, celebrating their massive triumph. The absolute joy of seeing the glowing item completely blinded them to the dangers around them.
Violet looked at the floating gem, her eyes reflecting a mix of deep curiosity and growing concern. "The Eye of Arithea," she repeated softly. "An artifact of unimaginable power. Are you truly sure we're ready for this? Power such as this is not to be taken lightly. The Corrupted Sea is known to guard its secrets fiercely. We must be cautious."
Thorne's grin only widened. "We're as ready as we'll ever be. And with you by our side, I have no doubt we'll succeed. This treasure has been lost for centuries. Its power could change the course of history."
Before Violet could argue, the ship lurched violently to one side, the wooden hull groaning under a sudden, massive force that nearly threw the cheering sailors off their feet. A deafening roar of wind and crashing waves filled the air, completely silencing the celebration. The sea's fury was suddenly unleashed with terrifying force, as if the ocean itself had violently awakened the exact moment the artifact was disturbed.
"What's happening?" Thorne shouted, trying to maintain his balance as the ship rocked uncontrollably.
"It's the sea!" Violet cried out, her voice strained. "The Eye of Arithea—it's drawing the sea's wrath!"
The crew scrambled to secure the ship, but the storm's intensity was beyond their control. Waves crashed over the deck, and the sky turned a menacing shade of black. Violet, her hands glowing with magic, attempted to cast protective wards, but the power of the artifact seemed to feed the storm's rage.
Violet gripped the wooden railing to keep her balance, her sharp eyes instantly scanning the churning water. Through the thick, unnatural fog just a short distance from where the floating artifact had been retrieved, she spotted something impossible.
It was the giant, jagged silhouette of a lone tower rising straight out of the black waves.
Right on the center of its roof, a massive purple flame was burning fiercely against the howling storm. It didn't flicker like regular fire; it pulsed slowly, like a beating heart, casting a sickly, wicked violet glow over the raging sea.
As the ship tilted heavily against another wave, a cold dread washed over Violet. The architecture of that stone, the oppressive weight of the mana bleeding into the air—it was horribly, deeply familiar.
This is wrong, her mind raced, her thoughts turning sharp and frantic. Why was the Eye just waiting here? How did a legendary artifact of the gods suddenly appear so easily, floating right in our path? It had been too simple. Too perfect.
Then, the puzzle pieces slammed together in her mind, pointing to a single, terrifying truth. She knew exactly who owned that tower.
No. It's impossible, she thought, her teeth gritting in fierce denial. He was defeated. This has to be a trick. A ghost of the past, or a cruel illusion conjured by the malice of this sea!
Refusing to succumb to the fear, Violet stood tall against the wind, her eyes flashing with dangerous power. She glared directly at the pulsing purple fire and screamed into the heart of the storm:
"Malvek!"
Thorne, barely managing to hold onto the ship's railing as the deck tilted wildly beneath them, looked at her in pure horror. "Why are you screaming his name?!" he shouted over the roaring wind, his voice laced with panic. "Are you crazy?!"
Violet ignored him completely. She didn't look back, didn't flinch, and didn't offer a single word of explanation. Her focus was locked entirely on the ominous structure ahead, treating the captain's frantic yelling like nothing more than background noise.
The moment the name left her lips, the tower answered. The purple flame on the roof violently exploded upward, lighting up the entire dark sky with a brilliant, blinding fury. The dark red and black waters around the structure began to boil, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was no illusion. He was there.
As the crew panicked around her and the ship tossed on the waves, Violet didn't scream or run. Instead, she let out a small, dark laugh.
The humor of it was twisted, but completely clear to her now. The Maylan clue, the perfect path through the gap, the artifact practically begging to be found—it wasn't a stroke of good fortune at all. The Black Saint had orchestrated the entire thing. He had left a trail of breadcrumbs, knowing it was the only thing in the world grand enough to lure the greatest researcher of Arithea out of her sanctuary.
He had set it all up just to draw her into the deep ocean and finally eliminate the last living member of the party that had killed him.
"Hold on!" Violet shouted. "We need to secure the Eye! If it remains exposed, the sea will not relent!"
Captain Thorne, his face now etched with fear, grasped the chest containing the Eye. "Violet, we must get it below deck! It's too dangerous out here!"
As Thorne and his crew fought against the storm, Violet struggled to maintain her spell. The waves surged higher, and the ship's timbers groaned under the pressure. Despite their efforts, the storm was relentless.
In a moment of sheer desperation, Thorne turned to Violet. "We can't keep this up! The sea is claiming us. What do we do?"
Violet, her eyes filled with determination and regret, replied, "I'll attempt one final spell—a barrier to shield us. But it's risky. It may cost me everything."
The Captain nodded, knowing there was no other option. "Do it!"
Violet began to chant an incantation, her voice rising above the roar of the storm. A brilliant light enveloped her and the Eye of Arithea, the 11th tier magic, the magic of the gods as it forms a shimmering shield around them. For a brief moment, it seemed as though the storm was held at bay and she shouted.
"Hear me, gods, as I, Violet, borrow your powers,
By the breath of the stars, and the will of the hours.
Pay heed to me, Eye of Arithea, as I command your flame,
For I, Violet, will forge fate in your name! Athena's Eternal Barrier, rise and reign!"
But the power of the Eye was too great, and the spell began to spiral out of control. Violet's magic clashed with the storm's energy, creating a vortex of light and darkness. The ship was thrown into chaos, and the crew's screams were lost amidst the storm's fury.
As the ship was torn apart, Violet's last sight was of Captain Thorne's desperate face, a silent plea for salvation. The protective barrier shattered, and the Eye of Arithea was lost to the sea. Violet, engulfed by the storm's malevolence, was swept away, her form becoming one with the dark waters.
"Is this... how it ends?" Violet whispered as she was consumed by the sea. "Dra...kan..."
The Lion's Fang was ultimately destroyed, its crew lost to the sea's wrath. Violet, transformed by her final spell, became a spectral presence bound to the Dark Sea. The Eye of Arithea, a relic of unimaginable power, was forever hidden in the abyss, its secrets buried deep beneath the waves.
The tale of the Lion's Fang and its fateful journey became a legend—a story of ambition, tragedy, and the price of seeking forbidden power. Violet's transformation into the Red Witch was a cautionary tale whispered among sailors, a reminder of the Dark Sea's unforgiving nature and the peril that awaits those who dare to defy its mysteries.