Karl returned to Eternal Mountain, his quiet refuge atop the highest peak of Dawn Island. From there, the flickering lights of Valon Village below were mere distant glimmers swallowed by the night.
As he stepped into his small wooden cabin, the chill of the highlands clung to the air. He removed his cloak and hung it beside the long-cold fireplace. Scattered across his desk were countless sheets of parchment—scribbled notes on ancient symbols, faded maps, and sketches of a glowing stone he had once seen.
"The priestess in my dream… the markings on the stone… the symbol of the Core…""It can't all be coincidence," he muttered to himself.
His voice was barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make the thoughts scatter like ash. Weariness pulled at his limbs, the kind that came not just from a long day, but from the weight of unspoken truths. He leaned against the desk, staring at one of the symbols for a long moment.
"Not tonight... I won't find the answers all at once."
And with that quiet resignation, Karl let his consciousness slip away, drawn into the deep pull of sleep.
…In the dream…
Karl found himself standing at the edge of a vast, endless sea—its waters ink-black, rippling under a sky with no stars. From the horizon, a solitary wooden ship emerged, gliding forward without sails or oars, as if guided by fate itself.
Seated at the bow was a woman clad in white, her face obscured by a silver veil. Candles surrounded her, flickering without wind. She didn't speak. She didn't move. Yet Karl could feel her presence pierce through the veil of silence.
The sky bled red. The sea howled like a wounded beast. Then, without warning, flames erupted behind the ship—cities crumbling, shadows rising, wings blotting out the sun.
And then he saw it.
The Demon King.
Not a figure, but a storm—a towering mass of darkness that consumed all in its path. Screams echoed from the water itself. Blood mixed with rain. The ship trembled, and the veiled woman turned her head slowly toward Karl.
"You are the last of the Oathbound," she whispered."When the horns sound again, even time shall bleed."
A flash of light.
And he awoke.
Karl awoke with a vague sense of disquiet.
Outside the window, a familiar sound echoed from the direction of Valon village — a long, low horn blast that seemed to drag the past back into the present. He sat up slowly, eyes still clouded by remnants of his dream — the ship, the priestess, and the flickering fire within the darkness.
The horn rang out again, clearer this time.
A welcoming horn.
He hadn't heard it... in a very long time.
"They're still blowing that thing…" Karl murmured, brushing a hand through his hair."I nearly forgot what it even sounded like."
He rose, walked over to the window, and gazed down at the village glowing gently at the foot of the mountain. Tiny lights blinked between rooftops. A few flags fluttered lazily in the early breeze. Something was happening. Something that brought people together.
But Karl felt no desire to be part of it.
"Let them celebrate. Whatever it is," he whispered."That world… doesn't belong to me anymore."
Still, he lingered at the window for a while, his gaze lost in the slow bloom of gold across the morning sky.
After a moment of quiet reflection by the window, Karl slowly turned away. He didn't glance at Valon again. Instead, his steps carried him toward a small wooden door tucked beneath the stone staircase — the entrance to the cellar.
A place he hadn't touched in over a hundred years.
The door creaked as he pulled it open, releasing a cloud of dust. Below lay a flight of stone steps, overgrown with moss and spiderwebs. The air was thick with silence, so dense he could almost hear his own heartbeat echoing.
Karl lit an oil lantern and descended.
"Perhaps… it's time," he murmured to himself.
The cellar was just as he had left it: filled with old crates of books, faded documents worn by the winds of time, a few rusted swords, and cloaks dulled by age. But deeper inside sat a small iron chest, locked and untouched.
Karl knelt before it, fingers trembling slightly as he unlocked the clasp.
Inside were manuscripts, letters, and fragments of ancient runes he had collected during the war against the demonkind two centuries ago. Things he had sworn never to revisit.
"Forgive me," he whispered, "but it seems... I can't run forever."
Karl silently flipped through the timeworn pages, each faded stroke of ink still carrying an ancient gravity untouched by the years. The more he read, the more the symbols from his dream began to come into focus — no longer scattered fragments, but something deeper, something calling to him.
One handwritten manuscript made him pause.
The title was nearly erased by time, but three words remained barely legible:
"The Sun-Soul Order."
Karl murmured the name, eyes widening as pieces began to fall into place.
The cryptic symbols.The priestess on the silent ship drifting through a sea of mist...They were all connected to this secret order.
According to the manuscript, the Sun-Soul Order was an ancient and clandestine society — comprised of seers, clerics, and soulbound mages — dedicated to the study of inner light and spiritual rebirth. They operated from the shadows, leaving behind scarce traces of their existence. Yet legend spoke of their subtle influence behind many major events in Enel's history — both of salvation and ruin.
Karl exhaled, his gaze growing heavy.
"So… you were one of them," he whispered, recalling the priestess's dreamy gaze and a voice that echoed like it came from another world.
Karl carefully sorted the manuscripts and notes, placing the most vital ones into an old leather folder. Leaning against the cold wooden wall of the basement, he stared into the dim stillness, his mind piecing together fragments of memory and scattered clues.
After hours of thought, a name surfaced from the murky depths of his memory:The Library of Noctshade.
A forgotten place, built in the ancient age and mentioned only in near-extinct texts. According to scattered accounts, it was hidden deep within the Echoing Forest, a few days' trek from the heart of Dawn Island. Karl had heard whispers of it before — a place no one dared to tread anymore.
"Dangerous… but if the Sun-Soul Order truly existed, that might be the last place where traces of them remain."
Karl didn't rush. He knew the cost of recklessness in a world like this. Forbidden places like the Library of Noctshade often held death — not only of the body, but of the soul.
Just as Karl was about to leave the basement, a faint, unnatural ripple brushed against the air. It wasn't wind. It was something else — a subtle disturbance in the space around him.
He stopped walking.
A soft crack echoed, barely audible — like the sound of glass starting to fracture.
Karl understood instantly.The barrier had been broken.
There could be no mistake. The protective ward surrounding Eternal Peak had been crafted by his own hands — nothing, not man nor demon, could pass through it unnoticed.
He rushed upstairs and opened the front door slowly, cautiously. The sky outside was still painted in the hues of dawn, but… the air had changed.
As if someone — or something — was watching.
Karl's eyes scanned the hillside, sharp and alert. From afar, he heard the faint crunch of footsteps against soil.
"Someone's here," he murmured. "And it's not from Valon."
A bird's cry echoed — not the call of nature, but a signal.
Someone had crossed into his territory.
"After all these years… someone steps onto this land again.""And I wonder… is this mere coincidence, or the beginning of something far greater?"
Karl turned back into the house, the door closing quietly behind him.He poured himself another cup of tea — but this time, he didn't drink it.
His gaze drifted to the long cloak hanging by the door.