Chapter 17: Mirror of the Soul

Inside Y’s Mind

Fog—thick, suffocating fog that swallows everything.

No time, no sound, no wind. A place measured not by distance, but by emptiness.

“How much time has passed?”

A question that finds no answer.

Suddenly… from within the pale void, a child appeared.

He stood firmly, staring. In his gaze there was no fear, only an ancient familiarity—

as if something long forgotten within Y had begun to stir.

—“You…”

The child raised his eyes calmly and said:

—“Do you remember me?”

Words froze in Y’s throat, but he whispered:

—“How could I forget?

Those eyes… that tangled hair… that weary body…”

The boy smiled—not the smile of a child, but something else—then said:

—“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

⸻

Within the Vampire Clan — The Gathering of Strategy

A voice resounded across the outpost tower. Noktarun’s tone rang clear and firm:

“Prepare yourselves. The war is upon us. Today is the long-awaited day—the end of our suffering. Take up your weapons, ready your shields. With the rise of the new moon, we shall carve out our future. Follow me; victory will be ours.”

A roar of voices answered him as one.

Ragnaros slipped into the gathering, joining the rest.

Leicht lifted his voice to outline the plan:

“First: evacuate the civilians to the cave near Y’s position.

Second: once Falzenor and Ash depart, those remaining will be—myself, L, King, and Liz. And, of course, Y, Ragnaros, and his men.”

He explained the nature of the enemy:

“Our foe numbers in the thousands—sorcerous butterflies, born of magic we cannot wield. Such a vast swarm cannot be met head-on. That is why we must narrow our defensive lines and relocate the civilians. But remember this: one mistake may cost us dearly.”

Then he divided the roles with clarity:

—“King, Liz, and I will form the main defensive line. We are accustomed to fighting without relying on magic.

—L, Ragnaros, and the Four Bloods—you will reinforce the defenses, moving between sectors and providing immediate support.

—As for the army, the best tactic against such creatures is to form squads of five—tight circles, backs to each other, able to endure no matter how many swarm against them.”

Ragnaros, surprised:

—“We have never thought of it this way.”

Leicht, with a calm smile:

—“On the battlefield, the victor is the one who turns everything to his advantage.”

Then came a brief, private exchange between King and Leicht:

King: “I have a simple request.”

Leicht: “What is it?”

King: “I want some distance from the cave and the soldiers.”

Leicht: “Do as you see fit.”

King: “Thank you—I’ll prepare myself now.”

Ragnaros nodded in agreement:

—“Keeping him apart from the rest is a wise choice.”

Leicht explained:

—“He’s the kind who unleashes his full strength in battle; keeping him too close to the troops would hinder him more than help.”

He paused, then continued with a firmer tone:

—“And the credit goes to Y. He may be unlike us, but he treats everyone the same. Even a warrior of the demons respected him. It is because of him that we now stand here planning together.”

Ragnaros joined in rousing the warriors. The air vibrated with the ring of blades and the fever of preparation.

The plan was clear, the roles defined, but the atmosphere—just as they agreed—remained under a single weight:

One mistake could change everything.

In the Kingdom of Mond – Lara’s House

The calm of the evening filled the room, the fragrance of tea blending with the warm glow of the lamps, while thoughtful faces gathered around the table.

Ash spoke with a tone of seriousness:

— “This is the current situation.”

Leona gazed at her quietly, then extended a folded letter:

— “I understand… but first, look at this message.”

Ash took the letter and read it, her eyes widening slightly:

— “It seems we’re about to receive many guests.”

Leona smiled faintly:

— “That’s right.”

Lara placed a cup of tea in front of Falzenor, then sat across from him with a gentle smile:

— “How are your injuries?”

Falzenor sipped the tea calmly before replying:

— “No need to worry… thank you for asking.”

Leona observed him with sharp eyes, then spoke:

— “I have a question for you, Sir Falzenor… What do you think of Y?”

He raised a brow, puzzled:

— “And what prompts such a question?”

Leona: “When you first appeared, your aura was filled with anger… but now, it is calm. Is that because of me?”

Falzenor studied her for a moment:

— “That… is your magic?”

She shook her head:

— “My ability allows me to see auras. Through them, I can evaluate people… but only evaluate, nothing more. I wish to become more useful to them.”

Falzenor exhaled:

— “My presence here wasn’t merely for protection, but also for guidance. L, Ash, and now you… all of you strive to grow stronger. I understand now… I am nothing more than a part of Y’s plan.”

Lara interjected softly:

— “You’re not part of any plan. Whatever agreement you have with Y, I know he is fair… it’s in his nature. He doesn’t like taking advantage of anyone.”

Leona added firmly:

— “It is rare to find someone with your knowledge… it would be a waste not to make use of this chance.”

Falzenor lifted his cup again, sipping before saying:

— “Very well… tell me what’s on your mind, girl.”

Leona gestured toward Diona, sitting beside her:

— “This cat-girl… it seems something is preventing her from using her magic. Can you help?”

Falzenor nodded:

— “Come closer.”

Diona approached hesitantly. He placed his hand on her head, and a glowing red aura shimmered around her.

Falzenor, in a grave tone:

— “There is a seal upon your heart.”

Diona’s eyes widened in shock:

— “A seal?! Can you destroy it?”

Falzenor shook his head:

— “Such seals cannot be destroyed… only removed. It appears someone tampered with your mind. You must revisit your memories… there are mages who specialize in that.”

Diona whispered faintly:

— “But… I only managed to use magic once before.”

Falzenor:

— “That means whoever placed the seal was careless… or had a very specific purpose for it.”

Lara asked with worry:

— “Do you have any idea who it could be, Diona?”

Diona looked down:

— “I don’t know… since childhood, I’ve never been able to use magic. My mother died, and my stepmother was the one who raised me and her own daughter.”

Leona analyzed:

— “It makes little sense for it to be your father… he seemed obsessed with magic, not restraining it.”

Then added:

— “In any case, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Falzenor shifted the conversation:

— “And the next question?”

Leona turned to Ash with a faint smile:

— “The next one is yours.”

Ash inclined her head respectfully:

— “Thank you.”

Then looked straight at Falzenor:

— “How can I use the Domain?”

Falzenor smiled slightly, as if he had expected the question:

— “I thought as much… First, you must reach inner peace. Accept yourself. But don’t think it will be easy. The Domain is nothing but the reflection of the soul. Only those whose souls are settled can wield it.”

He then added sternly:

— “Examine yourself carefully, Ash.”

Ash fell silent… her eyes drifting into the distance, as though she had already begun a new journey within.

Leona: “I noticed something strange about Y.”

Ash: “Strange? What is it?”

Leona: “It lasted only for fleeting moments… but I saw it clearly. He was…”

[Vampire Tribe]

Ragnaros’s booming voice thundered across the grounds:

— “Everyone to your positions! Ten minutes remain before the seal breaks!”

The countdown began… five minutes… one minute…

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

For a fleeting instant, a blinding light engulfed the world. A heavy silence fell over the field.

All eyes watched in tense anticipation—yet nothing happened.

A trembling voice broke the silence:

— “Look… up there!”

Heads turned skyward—thousands of butterflies cloaked the heavens, swallowing the sun itself.

Without warning, a swarm of colossal butterflies gathered their magical energy and unleashed a deadly rain upon the tribe.

Ragnaros raised his hand, summoning a barrier of blood:

— “Brace yourselves! A massive magic strike!”

Screams tore through the air. Homes crumbled, bodies fell wounded to the ground.

One vampire, shaking, pointed to the sky:

— “They’re… preparing another attack!”

But before the spell could descend, suddenly—every single butterfly dropped lifeless in midair.

Gasps of disbelief spread through the ranks:

— “What just happened?!”

Ragnaros roared again:

— “Look above us!”

There, a figure walked upon the very air.

Ragnaros’s voice faltered with recognition:

— “It’s… Licht!”

Licht’s defiant voice rang out:

— “If it’s a battle in the skies you want… then the skies shall be my stage!”

In the next heartbeat, a massive boulder pierced through a colossal butterfly, shattering whole swarms in its wake.

From the settling dust emerged a man of imposing build, his golden armor gleaming as he carried the boulder upon his shoulders with effortless might.

He smiled with unshakable confidence:

— “My name is King… and I’ll gladly be your opponent.”

Licht unleashed the winds, his magic surging into emerald lightning that ripped through the butterflies.

From the shadows, Liz stepped forth, her voice cool and distant:

— “It seems they don’t need me…”

But L answered firmly:

— “Don’t say that… we do need you.”

[Inside Y’s Mind]

Y walked in silence beside the child, their footsteps echoing faintly like distant reverberations.

The child pointed toward a forest forming before them:

— “Do you remember this place?”

Y nodded:

— “Yes… here, the wolves abandoned me.”

— “Follow me… there is still more.”

They shifted to a vast, shadowed clearing.

The child whispered:

— “Here… was the first time we killed a human.”

Y’s voice trembled:

— “I cannot deny it.”

The scene shifted again—small buildings appeared, a faint glow, children’s laughter, the scent of bread, a familiar warmth.

Y halted in disbelief:

— “This… the orphanage?”

The child: “Do you hear them? I was one of them.”

They continued walking through the stream of memories.

Y asked:

— “Why are you showing me this?”

The child: “You remember… then tell me—how did it feel?”

Before Y could answer, a deep voice pierced the fog:

— “My son…”

Y turned. An old man lay on his deathbed.

Familiar cries rang out:

— “Father!”

They were the voices of Anna and Lara.

Y whispered:

— “How could I forget that day… the day everything changed.”

The child stepped forward, holding the man’s frail hand.

The old man drew labored breaths and spoke:

— “My only regret… is that I did not find you sooner. I thought money was everything… but you are my true treasure.”

Tears streamed down Anna’s and Lara’s faces.

The man turned to Y, his voice weakening but sharp as a blade:

— “Remember… words are a double-edged weapon. They can build dreams… or shatter them. Do not crush the dreams of others. Help those in need, but with balance. Let your instinct guide you… trust yourself, and those who walk beside you. Protect Anna… protect Lara… they are your responsibility. And above all… learn to love yourself.”

Then, in a fading whisper:

— “Anna… Lara… support Y… his path will not be easy.”

The memories dissolved into the mist.

Y froze, until the child whispered at his side:

— “Do you remember now?”

Y’s voice was low:

— “Yes… I remember the regret, the sorrow… and my anger at myself more than anything.”

Suddenly, Y stepped forward and embraced the child.

The child shivered:

— “You…?”

Y’s voice was warm:

— “I realized then how wrong I was… I never spent enough time with those around me… I chose solitude. I’m sorry.”

The child lifted his head, speaking with steady resolve:

— “Do you remember our father’s rules?”

Y nodded, and together they recited:

— “Keep going… even if you are alone.”

— “Keep going… even if you are weary.”

— “Keep going… even if you are broken.”

— “Keep going… even if you are different.”

Together:

— “To stop moving forward… is the only true defeat.”

The child smiled softly:

— “You’ve become someone remarkable. I’ll count on you, me.”

And with that, he faded away.

Y remained in the fog, smiling for the first time in ages, whispering:

— “Thank you… me.”

[Battlefield – Vampire Tribe]

The sky was black—not from the night, but from swarms of magical butterflies blotting out the light.

Screams filled the air, spells clashed in every direction… and with them, a suffocating terror gripped every heart.

And then…

A thunderous roar split the heavens:

— “Clear the way!”

King emerged, clad in golden armor, standing at the very front of the battlefield—alone.

The butterflies surged toward him by the dozens, then by the hundreds… only to meet inevitable destruction.

With every swing of his colossal blade, an entire swarm was crushed. Each step he took sent tremors rippling through the ground.

A soldier behind him shouted in disbelief:

— “He’s not even using magic… and yet he cuts them down like flies!”

Without a word, King spun his sword overhead and brought it crashing down. The earth cracked open, and a wave of magical butterflies shattered beneath the force.

⸻

[In the Skies – Licht]

While King wreaked havoc on the ground, Licht soared through the skies.

The butterflies hovered beyond the reach of ground attacks, unleashing volleys of enchanted spikes toward him.

But then… he vanished.

No, not truly vanished—he became a mirage, an illusion flickering in the air.

His sword moved like a needle, every strike slicing through wings or piercing hearts.

Harnessing the power of wind magic, his speed ignited into emerald lightning, tearing through enemy ranks.

— “If it’s a battle in the skies you want… then the skies shall be mine.”

With a spiral descent from above, he dragged a roaring cyclone behind him, shredding dozens in its wake.

⸻

[From the Shadows – Liz]

On the edges of the battlefield, no one saw her… but she saw everyone.

Liz, her eyes sharp as blades and her twin daggers gleaming, leapt from shadow to shadow with lethal speed.

She appeared behind a colossal butterfly… two precise thrusts to a single point—and it burst apart soundlessly.

A vampire soldier gasped:

— “I didn’t even see who killed it!”

But by then, she was gone… already moving on to her next target.

Every step Liz took was calculated, every bead of sweat worth its price, every stab an instant execution.

Her shadows stretched across the battlefield, and soon, some soldiers found comfort simply knowing she was there.

⸻

[Rear Guard – L]

Though her magic was useless against such enemies, L did not falter.

Gripping her elegant scythe, she fought with unwavering confidence.

An attack from the right? She stepped back half a pace, cleaving through the wings.

From the left? A swift spin cut the swarm apart.

But her true strength lay not in killing—

It was in moving between groups, always where she was needed most.

Whenever a unit began to falter, L appeared like a phantom: saving, guiding, rekindling hope.

A soldier, his chest easing as he caught his breath, whispered softly:

— “When she appears… I feel like we cannot lose.”

[Above – Ragnaros]

With his vast black wings spread wide, Ragnaros hovered over all, his thunderous voice shaking the battlefield:

— “Advance! Do not falter!”

He unleashed violent shockwaves, shattering barriers of magic and distorting echoes through the air. The butterflies scattered for an instant—just enough for him to dive in with a swift assault, obliterating an entire swarm with a single strike of his wings.

Behind him stood the Four Bloods, closing gaps and fortifying the rear lines.

⸻

[Licht’s Cry from Above]

— “To the right! A massive swarm incoming!”

King turned, his steps thundering like rolling storms as he charged toward the threatened flank.

He arrived before all others… standing tall, a human wall of steel.

And in that moment, every soldier watching knew: this front… would not fall.

⸻

[Liz]

A soldier, his hand bleeding, staggered and nearly collapsed.

But then—a shadow swept past him, a cold breath of air.

He blinked, and the butterfly attacking him was already dead, collapsing silently to the ground.

He turned in shock, just in time to hear a faint whisper behind him:

— “Stay alive.”

Then she was gone.

Nothing remained but emptiness… and a bloodstained dagger on the earth.

⸻

[The Battle Continues… Yet]

The alliance held firm.

The lines did not break.

Every front had its champion.

And yet… a weight pressed heavier upon every heart.

As if the true hour had not yet come.

As if something—or someone—had yet to appear.

All eyes, from soldier to commander, lifted toward the sky.

Whispers spread like ripples through the ranks:

— “Where is he? … Y…”

[A Horrifying Cry Shakes the Sky]

A collective shriek, like a monstrous howl—

Thousands of butterflies suddenly fused together.

From the chaos, a new swarm was born—no longer formless, but shaped into grotesque titans:

Humanoid bodies, wings of blazing sorcery, and eyes bleeding with corrupted energy.

A soldier’s terrified scream:

— “They’ve… evolved!”

Ragnaros roared:

— “They’re merging into one! Their magic is changing!”

⸻

One of the hybrid beasts lunged toward an entire unit of soldiers…

But suddenly—

King descended from above, his blade crashing down, cleaving both the earth and the monster in two.

The explosion sent even allies tumbling backward, smoke billowing across the battlefield.

From the skies, Licht shouted:

— “Hybrids! Quickly, reform the lines!”

He hurled his sword wreathed in a storm of wind, slicing the swarm apart—

But the shredded magical remains writhed, pulling themselves back together.

Licht gritted his teeth, fury in his voice:

— “They’re… learning.”

⸻

Liz –

Even the shadows trembled beneath the pressure of their magic.

Her breaths quickened, her eyes locked on multiple fronts.

She spotted a squad of soldiers trapped inside a magical cage, the beast closing in.

In an instant, she appeared behind it—striking its anchors, then leaping into the prison before it sealed.

— “Ten seconds…” she muttered.

Five seconds… the beast fell.

Another five… and she vanished just before the cage exploded.

The soldiers cried out in awe and fear:

— “Human… or ghost?!”

⸻

[L – At the Core]

She had become the anchor of command in a battlefield drowning in chaos.

Moving swiftly between fronts—until a beast struck from behind!

It lifted her high, hurling her toward a wall—

But she spun midair, landing firmly on her feet, scythe flashing in a clean diagonal cut that split the monster apart.

Her gaze was cold, her voice steady:

— “Sorry… I’m not in the mood to retreat.”

[Liz – The Moving Shadows]

She darted across the battlefield like an unstoppable phantom.

Her daggers gleamed in every corner, striking joints, throats—then vanishing into nothingness.

A soldier cried out in awe:

— “She alone is holding the eastern front!”

The tension mounted, the rhythm quickened—every strike sharper, every breath heavier.

⸻

Ragnaros hovered above them, his voice booming over the screams:

— “They’re surrounding us from four directions! We need to—”

But before he could finish—

A massive explosion shook the northern front.

Soldiers turned in horror… the wall there had collapsed!

A desperate shout echoed:

— “They’ve breached the wall!”

Chaos spread like wildfire.

Panic tore through the ranks.

Licht surged forward at full speed through the skies.

King thundered across the ground toward the breach.

L screamed at the top of her lungs:

— “Reform the lines! Don’t let them through!”

But… time was slipping away.

Despite their heroic struggle, their unity, the miracles each fighter forged—

The enemy was evolving faster than anyone had foreseen.

And in every heart, a single thought grew heavier…

⸻

[Y – Within the Fog]

Y walked slowly through the thick mist.

Each step deliberate, unwavering.

Familiar voices guided him, faintly calling from the distance.

The further he advanced, the lighter the fog became—splitting open before him.

The air pulsed with strange energy, the scent of blood mingling with the echoes of spirits.

Whispers surrounded him: “Here… we are here…”

Yet Y’s face remained calm.

His eyes glimmered with the quiet certainty of someone who knew exactly where he must arrive.

⸻

[In Mond]

In a dim chamber, another meeting took place.

Ash—her voice hesitant:

— “Are you certain… Leona?”

Leona—her gaze firm, her tone steady but calm:

— “I only said it was a hypothesis…”

Then, another voice cut in—deep, assured…

Malzeno:

— “Your hypothesis is correct. I, too, had my doubts.”

Y: It’s time.

⸻

[Battlefield – Vampire Tribe]

Screams. Chaos. Wounds and blood.

Magic rained from the heavens like a cursed downpour.

From the mouth of the cavern, a clear voice rang out—

Lynn:

— “Bring the wounded inside! I’ll heal them all!”

But before anyone could move… the air shifted.

A heavy silence descended upon the battlefield.

A strange stillness… unnatural.

As though something ancient had awakened.

The air grew lighter.

The butterflies froze mid-flight.

Lynn whispered, trembling:

— “This feeling… it’s…”

Then—

Footsteps.

A figure emerged slowly from the cave, unhurried, eyes half-closed.

The butterflies did not strike.

Instead, they drew back—

Not in fear… but in caution.

As if facing something beyond their comprehension—

something they dared not provoke.

All eyes turned toward him.

Licht murmured, wide-eyed:

— “That presence… I could never mistake it.”

King raised his colossal blade, planting it firmly in the ground—

not as a challenge, but as a gesture of respect.

L gripped her scythe—not in readiness for battle, but as though part of a sacred rite.

And from within the silence… he appeared.

His garments stirred though the air was still.

His eyes shone like twin meteors falling from the heavens.

In his hand, a weapon unlike any other.

Standing before the army of butterflies, his gaze calm,

he whispered two words:

— “Mirror of the Soul.”

⸻

[Mirror of the Soul – Y’s Domain]

When the gate opened… there was no explosion.

Only an overwhelming silence.

The world transformed in an instant.

No sound.

No wind.

No time.

A white sky stretching into eternity…

An endless blue sea, its depths unfathomable.

No ground.

No walls.

No boundaries.

Only… pure essence.

This was not a battlefield.

It was an inner world—

a realm belonging to one man alone.

The Mirror of the Soul.

Here, others did not resist Y’s laws.

They became part of them.

Each who entered saw the reflection of their truest self:

Their strength. Their weakness. Their secrets.

Even their very magic.

Within the Mirror of the Soul, Y did not impose obedience.

He granted absolute freedom—

And then, at the height of that freedom, he crushed them.

Such was the essence of this place:

“Absolute freedom… to test the absolute truth.”

[Within the Mirror of the Soul]

Liz stood frozen, her eyes gleaming with awe as she gazed upon the endless white sky and the still blue sea.

— “What… is this place?”

L replied calmly:

— “We call it a Domain… a technique that manifests the very spirit of its user.”

Licht added with steady confidence:

— “And this one, without a doubt… is Y’s Domain.”

Ragnaros then spoke, his voice carrying a weight of reverence:

— “This Domain… is different.”

Lynn turned toward him, puzzled:

— “Different? How?”

Ragnaros explained, his wide eyes scanning the surreal expanse:

— “Normally, a Domain consumes enormous amounts of magic… and the longer it lasts, the more it drains.

But Y’s Domain is unique… it doesn’t consume magic—it absorbs it.”

He extended his wings toward the endless white horizon:

— “Look at the butterflies.”

Liz gasped:

— “They’re vanishing!”

Ragnaros nodded firmly:

— “Yes… because they are beings of pure magic. And this Domain devours everything born of magic within it.”

L placed her hand on her scythe, her tone cold but assured:

— “Which means… once their magic runs dry, they will cease to exist as well.”

A faint smile crossed Ragnaros’s lips before he concluded:

— “Such is the power of Y’s Domain.”

⸻

King clenched his fist, his voice resonant:

— “If this is the shape of his soul… it suits him.”

Ragnaros murmured, wings trembling ever so slightly:

— “Strange… for some reason, I feel at ease… even in the midst of battle.”

⸻

Y turned toward his companions, his sword resting upon his back.

— “Forgive me for the delay.”

He paused for a moment, then continued:

— “We can begin now. This time, I’ll be the support.”

A faint smile curved his lips:

— “But first… allow me to test something.”

⸻

Suddenly, Y raised his arm.

A massive circle of crimson light bloomed beneath everyone’s feet, radiating a warm aura.

Wounds sealed.

Exhaustion vanished.

Hearts steadied.

Lynn gasped, wide-eyed:

— “This… is healing magic?!”

⸻

Then, Y shot into the skies at blinding speed.

The magical butterflies launched their attacks, but he weaved through them with seamless grace—

as though he were walking upon the surface of undisturbed water.

King muttered in awe:

— “Is that his reaction speed… or the effect of the Domain?”

Licht, eyes sharp, answered:

— “Both. That’s wind magic.”

L added firmly:

— “And yet… he still hasn’t drawn his weapon.”

King exhaled, steady but tense:

— “Which means… he hasn’t even begun.”

⸻

Licht surged closer to Y, flying beside him with a daring grin:

— “Let’s see then… if you can keep up with me.”

Y smiled faintly, nodding once… and together they burst forward—

two meteors crossing paths in the sky.

Below, King advanced.

His greatsword cleaved through the butterflies one after another.

Each strike tore down a swarm.

Each roar shattered their formation.

A slayer of beasts, facing them head-on… without retreat.

After minutes of relentless battle, the butterflies fused into a massive cluster.

From the sky descended a hybrid monstrosity… six blazing wings unfurled.

The butterflies conjured ten wide-scale magical assaults.

But Y raised his right hand.

He mirrored their attack exactly… and unleashed it back at them in equal measure.

The explosions turned upon their own ranks.

Their lines broke apart.

King roared:

— “I’m coming!”

He charged forward, tearing a path with his body, scattering magic like dust.

Then he spun in a full arc, his arm raised toward the heavens.

Y appeared suddenly, landing lightly upon King’s hand.

Their eyes met for a fleeting instant.

King bellowed:

— “Go!!”

Y was hurled like a cannonball.

He pierced the air with thunderous speed.

The colossal beast moved to counter, but Licht flashed in like lightning, seized Y’s hand, and adjusted his course with astonishing precision.

At the very last moment, Y drew his weapon.

His twin blade shimmered with a strange pulse.

Then…

One strike.

It pierced the beast’s chest.

The light froze.

The body cracked… then exploded in silence, as if it had never been.

Y landed softly.

Licht at his side.

King laughed as he approached:

— “That’s harmony.”

Y smiled, sheathing his weapon:

— “Three steps… one strike.”

Enough to end battles that had raged for centuries.

The white sky grew calm.

The domain dissolved.

On the battlefield, the three stood amidst ruin and smoke, echoes of a legend newly born.

The vampires emerged from their shelters, faces smeared with ash, bodies battered… yet their eyes burned with something new.

One by one, they bowed their heads to Y.

A respect true and unbought—neither conjured by magic, nor seized by force.

Y spoke quietly:

— “I don’t know why you apologize…”

He paused, then added:

— “This is not the time for grief… nor for self-reproach.”

Suddenly, black sorcery veiled the sky.

A distorted voice thundered:

— “Who dares to spoil my delight?”

Ragnaros shouted:

— “It’s… the Warlock!”

Y:

— “I figured you’d be watching from somewhere.”

The Warlock:

— “You again… it seems you were born only to ruin my pleasures.”

Y:

— “Can’t hear you well… why don’t you come down yourself?”

Ragnaros cried out:

— “You vile Warlock! Today was our victory over you!”

The Warlock laughed darkly:

— “Remember this… your deaths will not be merciful—especially yours, human.”

The black sorcery vanished.

Ragnaros lifted his gaze to the heavens:

— “Today… is the day you’ve long awaited.”

Y smiled:

— “Let us grant the dead their honor… and the living their celebration.”

Here’s a polished, professional English translation of that scene, keeping the dark, intimate atmosphere and the Warlock’s sinister seduction:

⸻

[Elsewhere]

He screamed into the silence, a voice like a blade:

— “I will show them all! They mocked me? I will spare no one… none shall survive!”

Then—for a fleeting moment—his body trembled.

His eyes flickered with a strange light; a smile split his face, and he exploded into laughter:

— “Ha ha… what a surprise…”

He turned toward a black crystal, wreathed in poisonous smoke, hanging beneath a giant, dead tree.

There, a pale-faced girl stood, hands shaking as she gripped a knife, her eyes drowned in tears.

One step—and she would end her life.

The Warlock purred, savoring the moment:

— “A delicious little puppet… perfect to begin my next game.”

A coil of black smoke gathered around her as he whispered:

— “Do you want power? Do you want to change your life? Do you want revenge?”

A sudden light flared before her:

— “Remember who is to blame for all of this… remember who stole your joy.”

The voice intoned:

— “This black stone will change your life. Go to it… shape your fate with your own hand.”

The girl’s eyes flamed red.

In a voice fractured by hatred she hissed:

— “All of this… because of Y.”