The sun had long since dipped below the mountains, leaving the sky bruised and bleeding twilight. The moon rose in its place—a pale, watchful eye gazing down on a land that had long forgotten peace. Somewhere in the distance, a lone wolf howled, its cry echoing through the empty valleys like a ghost mourning the past.
Deep within the mountain cave, torch flickered, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, dust, and decay. Faint scratching sounds echoed as Freya's fingers turned brittle pages.
In the glow of that solitary flame, she let out a long, weary sigh and closed the final notebook with a soft thud.
She had finally finished reading every single one. The missing pieces of the full picture was finally coming together.
It all began with a man named Hugo Grant, once a mere baron from some forgotten backwater noble house. But somewhere along the line, he strayed from the righteous path and descended into darkness. He became a Black Mage.
The turning point? An unexpected discovery, an ancient, unexplored underground dungeon known as Homecoming for Kings.
But this was no ordinary dungeon. It wasn't just filled with the deadliest traps imaginable, it was also guarded by powerful, high-level undead. Countless of them.
Any sane adventurer would've turned tail and run at first sight.
But not Hugo Grant.
He saw it as an opportunity. An unexplored dungeon meant untold riches and power.
So to explore the dungeon, Hugo Grant came out with this crazy idea. He believed he could use dark aura to camouflage himself and blend in with the undead.
He poured every ounce of his resources and connections into mastering the forbidden art— Dark Magic. He embraced it fully, and in time, he became a true Black Mage.
And that crazy idea about camouflaging himself, it actually worked!
The undead didn't see him as a threat. They treated him as one of their own. He was able to walk freely through the dungeon, unharmed, unchallenged, unseen.
Over the years, as he delved deeper into Homecoming for Kings, he unearthed treasures, ancient artifacts, weapons etc etc. And then, at last, he found his greatest discovery: the art of necromancy.
But power breeds greed, and greed rots the soul.
With his growing strength, Hugo began to manipulate, extort, and enslave other nobles using mind-warping dark magic. His ambition knew no bounds.
But dark deeds never go unnoticed forever, it's just impossible.
Soon, his actions caught the attention of the worst possible enemy, The Temple Of Light.
The servants of God of Light are ever vigilant against heretics and black mages, they acted swiftly. The Order of Holy Knights was dispatched to set things right.
Hugo Grant was undoubtedly powerful, but not invincible. He was hunted, outnumbered and wounded, he had no choice but fled, disappearing into the mountains, vanishing like a dying ember in the night.
And finally, he ended up in this very cave, he licked his wounds and buried himself in even deeper research of the forbidden art, Necromancy—his final trump card.
His logic was simple. So what if The Temple Of Light had more men?
Two can play that game. He could raise his own army, an endless legion of undead warriors and crush everything, or everyone that stands in his way.
So once he recovered, he returned to Homecoming for Kings in secret, resuming his dark explorations.
And finally, one day, Hugo Grant reached the deepest level of the dungeon.
There, he found a coffin.
And inside that coffin, it was her.
Freya Constantin.
Her beauty stunned him. But at the same time, his instinct was also telling him the little girl was something else, something extraordinary.
Because Homecoming For Kings had stood here for a very long time, maybe even millennia.
Yet, her body was untouched by time. She hadn't rotted, hadn't aged.
It was as if she'd only just fallen asleep.
Suddenly, a strange clarity pierced through Hugo Grant's mind. A realization took root.
Its her!
She was the reason why the dungeon were crawled with undead. They weren't aimless husks or abandoned mistakes. No… they were guardians. Reanimated for only one purpose: to protect her. It all made perfect sense now.
Hugo Grant felt the mysterious veil of the dungeon had unfold before him, hope for revenge surged through him like wildfire.
If he could resurrect Freya Constantin, she would be bound to him. She would obey him. And with her at his side, the undead legion would follow.
He would be unstoppable!
Vengeance was already in his grasp.
But fate can be so cruel sometimes, his return to the dungeon wasn't unnoticed. Someone picked up his track and ratted him out.
Soon, words traveled to The Holy City, and The Temple of Light also had learned that Homecoming For Kings was an underground dungeon filled with undead, so they needed to go all in.
Every servant of God Of Light was summoned and marched under the banner of holy justice and launched an all-out assault.
The dungeon raid that followed was epic, apocalyptic.
Although Hugo Grant had the "homeground advantage" this time, but he was still gravely wounded, again. Barely clinging to life.
As for the other side, The Temple Of Light also took a massive hit, the body count was devastating, nearly half of their forces were wiped out by the undead. Still, they couldn't breach the dungeon's heart.
So they called for reinforcement, and Atlantean Empire heeded the call.
The Order of Royal Knights was dispatched, tens of thousand of them, and the tide of the battle started to turn.
Together, the two armies pushed deeper and deeper into the dungeon.
Hugo Grant's defeat was inevitable. In a last ditch effort, he snatched Freya Constantin's body and fled back to this very cave.
But his injury was fatal, he could feel himself weakening by the day.
His only hope: to finish the preparations for the resurrection ritual before he lost all his power.
Years passed. He finally gathered every material he needed. Everything was ready.
He placed his final hope in Freya Constantin.
He believed, he had to believe that she would rise and take vengeance in his stead.
Because darkness and light cannot coexist.
There is no peace.
There is no compromise
Only annihilation.
And with the undead legion behind Freya Constantin, the odds would surely be on her side.
And as the current Freya—or rather, Steve—suspected... the ritual failed partway through.
Hugo poured every last drop of mana into the magic circle. Even his soul.
But it wasn't enough.
Freya Constantin did not awaken.
Yet, Hugo Grant did not give up, he can't give up, so he initiated plan B. The altar he built had a contingency, a failsafe, some extra juice to keep the ritual going, but at a terrible cost.
Without hesitation, Hugo Grant offered his flesh and blood, he was making the final bet with his life.
But fate did not smile upon him.
Freya Constantin never stirred.
Despair filled Hugo Grant's eyes as the ritual stripped him to the bone, tearing his flesh apart.
He died a painful and horrible death.
And yet, not long after he died, something did eventually came through the magic circle. A ray of light, along with a soul from another world, Steve Langdone's soul.
Perhaps it was destiny. Or maybe it was just a cruel, twisted joke from a higher power.
But what's done is done.
Steve Langdone woke up in Freya's body, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Not for now, at least.....
Freya slowly put down the last notebook and approached the still kneeling skeleton. She stared down at him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"So.....you are the reason I'm here huh?"
The flames inside the skeleton's eye sockets flickered softly.
But it didn't move. Still kneeling. Still silent.
She let out a sigh. "No point lashing out at a pile of bones now, I guess."
She paused.
"Unless… you're still in there. Hugo Grant!"
She stepped closer, her gaze locked with the hollow flames.
And for just a moment... they flickered back.
As if they understood.
As if..... they had a will of their own...