Aldinar, the majestic gem at the heart of Orlandia. True to its name, which means "rich man," this city towers proudly with lofty spires that seem to pierce the sky.
Morning had once again brought light to the edge of the horizon, but within moments, that light slipped behind grey clouds as if it carried away everyone's hope along with it.
Soldiers moved through the streets, and the people gathered before the palace, their faces gloomy, eyes filled with unease. The people demanded answers for the terrible night they had endured—the night when the Wraith appeared, bringing terror, screams, and nightmares.
Inside the palace, King Benjamin De Orland, the 14th ruler of the Orlandian dynasty, sat wearily on his throne, his head resting against fingers touching his temple, his gaze reflecting deep unrest. The stronghold built by his ancestors had failed to hold back the assault of shadowy beings. Now, his people were left to live in fear.
Standing before the king were the Royal Advisor, an elderly noble named Horus, and General Benneto De Baldarus, the highest-ranking commander of the royal army.
"Your Majesty," said Horus with a heavy tone, "the people are gripped by fear. They no longer dare leave their homes to work as usual and are demanding that the kingdom take immediate action to protect them and drive out the Wraith that roam the streets at night."
King Benjamin turned to General Benneto, for he was the one most responsible for defending the kingdom with the might of its army.
"General, can our forces do that?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Benneto replied, bowing his head, "but swords and spears are useless. Wraith cannot be touched by mortal weapons. All our soldiers can do is maintain a presence among the people to provide a shred of reassurance. But that alone won't be enough to solve this problem."
Silence filled the throne room. King Benjamin closed his eyes briefly, trapped in the stalemate, until Advisor Horus cautiously spoke.
"Your Majesty, I have a suggestion, though you may not be pleased to hear it."
The king nodded weakly. "In desperate times like these, every proposal must be considered if it can help resolve this crisis. Please, go on."
"Your Majesty, perhaps we can send an envoy to Old Grafia in the royal city of Sinarak and request assistance from the Temple of Sordia. Their paladins might be able to fight the Wraith threatening Orlandia."
King Benjamin's expression showed his displeasure. Not only did he personally dislike the followers of the Goddess of Light, but most Orlandians—devotees of the Wind Goddess Arasia—would fiercely reject the suggestion.
Furthermore, the priests of Sordia were known for their arrogance and self-righteous behavior, often acting in the name of their god, demanding great compensation and meddling in royal affairs.
"Is there no other way?" the king asked coldly. "Besides, the distance to Sinarak is too far."
"In that case, I'll try contacting the Grand Temple of Arasia in the city of Ortidar first, though I doubt they can help much since they lack a combat force like the Paladins."
The king nodded slowly, but all plans would take time—while night would soon return and the Wraith would not wait. They needed a more immediate solution.
"What are our preparations for tonight, General?"
"To be honest, I don't know what we can do, as this is the first time the capital has faced an attack by astral beings. But... there's still one option."
King Benjamin looked at him sharply, and General Benneto continued in a grim voice.
"We could release Patra, who has experience dealing with such threats."
Tension instantly filled the air at the mention of that name.
"That monster hunter dared accuse my daughter of being a witch!" King Benjamin said furiously. "I could never forgive him!"
The king truly despised Patra, even though he had once considered him a hero for eradicating the witches who abducted young girls in Orlandia.
Everything changed when Patra accused Princess Trea of having witch blood. The king could never accept such an accusation, especially since Queen Shindarty had once been a priestess in the Temple of Arasia—a sacred woman before she became queen.
Rumors about witches had long disturbed the people. Many innocent women had been accused of practicing dark magic merely out of public fear. Often, they were drowned—people believed that a witch's body floated like an old stick of wood. If she sank, she was deemed innocent—though the poor woman still died to prove she wasn't a witch.
Horus also knew that Patra's offense was indeed grave, and he deeply regretted the accusation that had led to the monster hunter being imprisoned for the past six months.
"Your Majesty," Horus said softly, "I do know that Master Patra has committed a serious offense... but we are in desperate need of his expertise, as he undeniably has experience in hunting creatures like the Wraith. Please, I beg you to grant him one more chance."
The royal advisor pleaded with a sincere tone, especially since Patra had once been a valuable asset to the kingdom.
King Benjamin was silent. His mind was tangled in rage, honor, and his duty as a leader. He knew that perhaps only Patra could resolve this impasse.
Outside, the clouds had fully blanketed the sky. A thick fog crept into the city, slithering through buildings and alleyways, making everything look vague and suspended at the edge of a nightmare. Amid the chaos and uncertainty, black shadows darted out from the mist that obscured sight.
Screams tore through the day, a time that was supposed to bring peace. Now it had turned into mayhem. Soldiers rushed to gather the citizens, forcing down their own fear in order to protect the people.
"Wraith... they're appearing in daylight...!"
"But that's impossible! They're supposed to fear sunlight!"
"Look! No light can penetrate this fog!"
"How can fog this thick appear so suddenly?"
"Don't ask me! Hurry, we must warn everyone!"
"The Wraith are here... those evil beings are emerging from the mist!"
"Be strong! Don't let fear control your mind! Fight it!"
Soldiers gathered in front of the crowd sheltering inside a single building. But soon, a black figure burst in through an open window. The creature floated silently, staring at the people who hid their faces behind their arms in terror.
The Wraith stood still for a few moments, its dark eyes scanning the crowd. But without doing anything, the creature turned and left—as if it had not found what it was searching for.
General Benneto De Baldarus hurried to the fortress where Patra was imprisoned behind iron bars, hoping the monster hunter was still alive and could help stop the chaos. But as he neared the stronghold, a soldier ran up to him.
"General Benneto! It's bad—some guards stationed atop the fortress have been affected by the Wraith's curse. They didn't even realize they were stepping off the edge!"
"How many have fallen?"
"Seven so far, and the number may rise."
"Then have anyone who feels unsteady come down immediately. We can't afford more casualties."
Wraiths may not attack physically, but their curse could incite overwhelming fear. Those without strong hearts could suffer anxiety, hallucinations, or even madness.
General Benneto descended into the corridor toward the dungeon beneath the fortress with two guards. As he walked down the far end, a floating shadow appeared, facing one of the prison cells. The general couldn't see who was inside—the wall at the angle of his approach blocked his view.
The Wraith hovered in silence, curiously watching the prisoner. But then something unexpected happened. General Benneto saw a flame shoot out from behind the bars, striking the astral creature, which let out a shriek and burst into flames like dry leaves caught in fire. A chained whip lashed out from within the cell, destroying the Wraith's body into ash that vanished into the air.
The guards were left in stunned confusion. But two of them—besides General Benneto—already knew who was locked in that cell.
A muscular man, his body covered in claw marks, sat shirtless against the wall. He smiled at his visitor, despite being shackled by a chain around one wrist.
"It's been quite a while, hasn't it, honorable General Benneto De Baldarus," he said with a half-mocking tone. "You don't look much better than the last time we met. If I recall, that was when you threw me into this prison. So... have you been eating well?"
The words stung like poisoned arrows, but the great general remained unmoved.
"You should know that your punishment was well deserved for your accusation against Princess Adelia De La Trea. Be grateful you're being given a second chance by His Majesty."
"A pardon, huh? Hahaha..." Patra chuckled lightly. "That does sound lovely, but I don't think it's necessary. I've grown quite comfortable in this cell. At least I no longer have to risk my life fulfilling the king's orders—especially when he doesn't even understand gratitude."
General Benneto's sharp gaze pierced the silence between them. He knew well that convincing Patra wouldn't be easy. But the crisis outside afforded no luxury of time—the capital teetered on the brink of ruin, and only Patra knew how to face the Wraith.
"Guard," he ordered, "open the cell and release this man."
"Yes, sir..."
Without hesitation, the guard moved to open the bars and unfasten the chains wrapped around Patra's arms. General Benneto didn't want to waste any more time arguing.
"Patra, we know we can't force someone like you to obey, but you should go out there and see the situation for yourself."
"Does all this have anything to do with the Wraith that paid a visit earlier?"
Benneto didn't answer. He simply turned and walked away, leaving Patra to wrestle with his own thoughts.
"It's only been a few months since I wiped out those damned witches… and now this?"
Patra slowly stood up and stepped out from the place that had imprisoned him for months. Even though he knew he didn't deserve such punishment, the lingering curiosity about the cursed soul that had visited him still haunted his mind.
The corridor to the exit was lit only by a dim light. Patra wasn't sure whether it was already night, since the sky seemed swallowed by fog, but Wraiths weren't supposed to survive under sunlight.
The sky was completely hidden, until a breeze swept away part of the mist and revealed thick, black figures flying through it—unveiling a vivid image of the great calamity now unfolding.
"Quite a sight," he murmured. "Never thought Wraiths, creatures born of darkness, could gather in such numbers. No wonder King Benjamin decided to release me to help him."
General Benneto was still standing at the prison entrance, waiting for Patra. He knew the man well enough to understand that Patra would never let innocent people fall prey to cursed creatures like the Wraiths.
"You've seen the situation yourself," said Benneto. "So, what's your decision?"
"I have no obligation to help fix this mess," Patra replied quietly, "especially after the way I was treated. But I must admit… this is quite an intriguing scene. Looks like there are some powerful witches who really hate Orlandia."
"So this is the work of witches?"
"Not just one. This fog clearly comes from multiple forms of magic. And Wraiths… those cursed beings, can only appear or be created through dark magic. Judging by how many there are… it seems these necromancers possess immense power."
Necromancers were dark sorcerers who mastered the magic of raising spirits and corpses into deathless soldiers. They were supposed to have been wiped out in the Holy War five hundred years ago. But now… that shadow from the past loomed once again over the Kingdom of Orlandia.
Benneto stared up at the sky, veiled in thick fog, imagining the horror of a deathless army like those depicted in ancient paintings. Necromancers didn't just kill—they cursed their victims, binding their souls into rotting bodies to walk the earth in eternal unrest.
"Patra… will you help us?" Benneto asked. "Don't you despise witches as much as anyone?"
Patra turned with a faint smile.
"General Benneto… though I do hate them, you know I don't work for free. King Benjamin still owes me a great deal."
The great general fell silent. He knew Patra always demanded payment. But what unsettled him most was the look in Patra's eyes as he continued to watch the Wraiths drifting through the mist.
"The Wraiths are acting strange," Patra murmured. "They're not attacking people, just wandering as if searching for something. That alone proves they weren't created naturally through impure magic energy. Someone deliberately created them… to find something important."