Exitus walked slowly through a corridor filled with monsters. They watched him as if gripped by a primal terror buried deep within their instincts. Their nature warned them that this was an existence they should never provoke. Around the boy, nightmare energy continued as always to nourish and reshape his body. Ever since he obtained the authority to enter and leave the Abyss from the Guardian, Exitus had scarcely set foot in the real world even once. The immense reservoir of nightmare energy that permeated this place stood as proof of Madenes’s once glorious era. Yet he still fell. Or perhaps that outcome was exactly what he desired.

  Exitus had always felt that a hidden truth lay behind the DarkGod’s death. A single insignificant war at Golden had been enough to allow Richer to ascend into a mighty Emperor. Meanwhile, Madenes was an existence that had haunted all of Veynar, amassing an immeasurable quantity of nightmare energy. There was no way such a being could have perished so easily. What had his ambition been? What was his true wish?

  Countless questions churned in Exitus’s mind, yet he understood that perhaps the reason lay in his own insufficient strength. He was not the only one who possessed a Wish and harnessed nightmare energy. There were those far stronger than him, yet for now they remained hidden within the shadows. There had to be something they feared, something with power overwhelming even them. If Exitus’s judgment was correct, it was the being that stood above even Emperor.

  Emperor was like the ultimate limit of ordinary beings. Whether plants, beasts, or humans, all were merely mundane existences. Emperor was their final destination. Exitus gazed thoughtfully at his transforming body. He was in the midst of transitioning into a different state, something he called an Abstract Body. Once the process was complete, his body would transcend the limits of physics, becoming a conceptual existence and advancing to the next rank, a Demi God. Yet even that was not enough. A true god had fallen before, let alone a half god. Exitus needed more authority, more power. He needed more Wishes. That was why he had to understand his enemies, their nature, and their weaknesses.

  Exitus returned to his throne. Jester stood there as always, silently observing him. Even with all the power he now wielded, Exitus still could not comprehend Jester. The figure was as if nonexistent, like a haunting shadow within his mind. Exitus had been startled when Valen claimed she saw no one at all.

  “Who are you really. What are you, Jester,” Exitus whispered quietly, knowing there would be no answer.

  Jester merely shook his head coldly. The time had not yet come. He gave a faint chuckle and continued to drift there, like a lost soul.

  Exitus sighed and ignored the old figure. He opened his palm and once more summoned the black page containing the memories of a Wish bearer. Everything seemed ordered, deliberate, yet perhaps it was nothing more than fate.

  “The Wish of Beauty.”

  The Crystal Moon Festival was a distinctive celebration of the IceMouth region, where the cold saturated the air like the presence of the ice element itself, a land of resilient people who endured a harsh climate. The festival was held during the full moon, when moonlight passed through the IceMounts and formed shimmering, illusory beams. The moonlight resembled fingers plucking a harp, the glittering radiance dancing as if to an unseen melody.

  Viewed from above, the Crystal Valley seemed to glow brilliantly within the darkness. The most vibrant celebrations took place in MoonLight Town, home to Full Moon Lake, a natural wonder of IceStorm. Each year at this time, lovers would meet by the romantic waters, exchanging promises as complete and perfect as the full moon itself.

  “Rose. That young master has come looking for you again.”

  The maid giggled softly as she woke the young lady from her deep sleep. Still drowsy, the girl did not seem to fully grasp the words. She wanted to sleep more. How troublesome. “But which young master? Stronghold? Right. John."

  “Really? Truly? He came to see me again. Oh no. I completely forgot that today we planned to attend the Crystal Moon Festival together.”

  Rose sprang up as if a surge of electricity shot through her body, stimulating every muscle into motion. She threw aside the warm blankets and hurried to prepare herself. Makeup. Beautiful. Alluring. A refined layer of fine powder. A faint crimson glow upon her lips. Innocent and gentle Rose. A young maiden radiant with youthful beauty and vibrant life.

  She peeked timidly through the thin silk curtain of the window, lifting one corner ever so slightly. There he was. The handsome young master she longed for. John looked impeccable. A renowned heir of the Stronghold family. He wore an elegant suit, a neatly pressed white shirt, and his golden hair gleamed brilliantly. His smile shone like the stars, confident and graceful.

  Rose dashed downstairs, the thunderous sound of her footsteps on the staircase betraying the haste of a young girl in love.

  “Where is the decorum of a noble lady now?” a refined woman scolded gently.

  “Mother. I am sorry. Please allow me to go to the festival with John. I mean the young master of the Stronghold family.”

  The woman sighed. Through the doorway beside her, she could clearly see the young man waiting outside. He looked like the embodiment of perfection that every young woman dreamed of. A good man. Of noble lineage. Possessing exceptional talent. Not yet twenty years old, yet already a warlord. Breaking through to Battle King would only be a matter of time. Truly worthy of the Stronghold bloodline.

  Yet something felt wrong. He was too perfect. So perfect that it unsettled her. A mother’s intuition was never wrong, especially when she herself was a powerful mage.

  “I am not forbidding you,” she said. “But do you remember what I taught you. The story of Distance. A beautiful woman, in the eyes of a man, is one who knows how to maintain distance.”

  “Mother. I remember it countless times already. I know the story of Distance by heart.”

  Rose responded irritably. She did not want the man she admired to wait too long at the door. It might make John displeased. He might even come to dislike her. Lady Rosana’s eyes dimmed with sorrow. Perhaps she was overthinking it. Was she being too suspicious.

  “You made me wait quite a while,” the young man said with a radiant smile. It did not sound like reproach or anger at all. He simply wanted to see the innocent reaction of the young maiden.

  “She will surely think I am truly upset.” He thought to himself.

  “I... I am sorry. My mother wanted to speak with me for a bit longer.”

  “An apology alone is not enough. You must compensate me with something.”

  “With ... With what.”

  “This right here.” John swiftly pressed a sudden kiss onto Rose’s forehead.

  Embarrassment flooded her face, flushing red like dawn clouds at sunrise. She weakly tapped his shoulder.

  “Hey. Do not do that. I will get angry.”

  “Oh no. My shoulder is broken. The young lady has broken my shoulder.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “You. I am not speaking to you anymore…”

  The young maiden stormed out through the gate in a huff. She closed her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and tilted her head upward as if she no longer cared about the young man trailing behind her. Her lips pressed together lightly.

  The lovers wandered through the bustling town, exchanging intimate gestures, gentle embraces, and shy handholding. Rose suddenly noticed a stone gleaming brightly on a nearby street stall. Unlike the other vendors shouting for customers, this stall felt strange. The owner wore a sheepskin coat, drawing in and exhaling thick white smoke. Her dull eyes followed Rose as she slowly approached.

  “This stone is so beautiful.” Rose held the stone in her hand. It was nothing more than a crude rock, yet to her it possessed an irresistible attraction. As if it were calling to her.

  “You like it. Then I will buy it for you.” John’s eyes lit up as he smiled. He sensed a good opportunity and without hesitation reached for his purse, taking out several gleaming gold coins.

  The old woman remained silent, watching the young couple, especially Rose. Her lips trembled as she muttered hoarsely.

  “Take it, girl. It chose you. No payment is needed. It suits you very well.”

  “Really. You mean it.” Rose beamed with joy. In contrast, John grew gloomy. He had lost a chance to show off in front of her. No matter. The night was still long. He would have many more opportunities.

  Rose held John’s hand as they left, planning to go to Full Moon Lake to enjoy the scenery. Not long after the young couple departed, the old woman burst into tears, mumbling something incomprehensible. As the final wisp of smoke dispersed, she collapsed and died, claimed by the cold winds of the frozen land.

  Countless couples whispered sweet words before Full Moon Lake. Rose and John were no exception. Rose rested happily in John’s arms, intoxicated by the promises he poured into her ears, visions of a radiant future. "Honeyed words that kill flies" Rose was now completely infatuated, unable to restrain herself as she offered John her first kiss beneath the silent gaze of the moon. But was that enough for John. It was not. He had not come all this way into the frigid land for a single kiss. Gazing at Rose’s supple body and fair skin, her kiss only drove his madness further.

  John suggested that Rose venture deeper into the nearby Crystal Forest. He wanted to give her a surprise, something he did not want anyone else to see. The innocent girl agreed without hesitation, forgetting the lesson of Distance her mother had taught her.

  They went deeper into the deserted forest as moonlight was gradually swallowed by towering, densely packed trees. Only then did Rose sense that something was wrong. The young master’s arm clamped onto her like iron. His breathing grew rapid and ragged. Dark thoughts overtook his mind. He could no longer restrain himself and pounced upon Rose like a beast. He tore her clothes apart and violated the small girl amid her terrified sobs. Rose struggled and screamed, but how could the strength of an ordinary person contend with that of a powerful warlord. John clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. His eyes burned red, crazed and consumed by desire. Even the frigid winds could not cool the searing heat of his body, ignited by lust.

  When John finally came to his senses, what lay before him was the cold, naked corpse of the beautiful girl. Her eyes were turned toward the round, gleaming moon shining through the treetops. Rose truly regretted it. She regretted not listening to her mother. She regretted blindly trusting in a false love. Her mother’s lessons flashed through her mind. She wished she had listened, had followed those teachings, had become a beautiful and noble woman, a woman like her mother. The stone in her hand glimmered faintly, but no miracle occurred.

  “No. It cannot have come to this. What have I done.”

  John was horrified by what lay before his eyes. A prodigy of Stronghold, a heroic lineage. He could not allow this to be exposed. If the truth came out, his reputation would be destroyed, and worse still, he would be expelled from the family. John’s gaze turned ruthless as it fell upon Rose’s corpse. He was forced to do what he believed necessary.

  Days passed with no news of her child. Lady Rosana grew anxious. Her body became frail and emaciated, mana within her flowing in chaotic disorder. Rose was not her biological daughter, yet she loved her as if she were her own flesh and blood. The girl’s innocent eyes had been a rare and beautiful light in this dark world. Rosana did not wish to believe it, but as someone who had endured countless upheavals in the past, she knew that something terrible had happened to Rose.

  “It cannot be. A heroic family could never commit something so horrific.” She prayed that her suspicions were wrong. She prayed that Enesur would protect Rose, if the girl was still alive.

  "Knock knock knock". The sound of knocking echoed at the door. A hunter stood outside Rosana’s home, sorrow heavy on his face. When the door opened, he hurriedly removed his hat and let out a long sigh.

  “Lady Rosana. We are deeply sorry. As for the girl’s condition… perhaps you should come with us.”

  Rose lay motionless within a stone coffin, her body covered in countless stitches where separated parts had been sewn back together. She wore a gentle, modest white dress. From a distance, she looked pure and lovely, as though she were merely asleep. Her body had been found scattered throughout the forest beyond the lake. Yet it remained intact, almost like a miracle. Something had protected those remains from the starving wild wolves.

  Lady Rosana wept until her eyes were swollen and red. Hatred consumed her for John’s depravity. She accused him, yet there was no evidence. Stronghold was far too powerful a name in Greaton. Every accusation was dismissed, and John left IceStorm like a victor. She would never forget the provocative look on his face. She swore she would kill him, tear him apart just as he had done to her daughter. As for the Stronghold family, such disgrace for a so called heroic house. She would take revenge on each and every one of them.

  The priests of the cathedral left her alone with the girl. Before the shimmering crystal casing, Rosana screamed like a child. The pain was too great to bear. Once, she had been nothing more than a cold ice mage. It was Rose who had ignited the flame of love within her heart. She still vividly remembered Rose as a small child, those large sparkling eyes and that gentle smile that had changed Rosana. For the first time in this dark world, Rosana had found a reason to live.

  “It is Mother’s fault, Rose. I am sorry. This is all my fault. I should have stopped you…”

  Rosana threw herself against the coffin, sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears, strangely enough, passed through the crystal casing and seeped deep into Rose’s body.

  Rose’s body began to glow, to Lady’s utter shock. A crude, writhing stone forced its way out from Rose’s body through her palm, piercing the crystal casing and floating silently before the grieving mother.

  “Take it.” A cold voice echoed from within the stone.

  Rosana stared at it as if hypnotized. She reached out and grasped the floating stone, and in that single moment, Lady Rosana saw everything, heard everything, felt everything that Rose had endured. Her eyes burned crimson as hatred erupted once more, fiercer than ever before.

  “Rose made a wish. She wished to become like you, Lady Rosana, to become the most beautiful woman in this world. She regretted not listening to you, not becoming the person you had hoped she would be. But her concept of "beauty" is not what I might imagine. Therefore, help your daughter fulfill this wish. Perhaps one day, Rose may awaken.” The strange voice echoed once again.

  “No. No. No. I want Rose. Please save her. I want nothing else. I only want my daughter. Please. I wish for Rose to live. I wish for Rose to live. I wish for Rose to live again.”

  “How unfortunate. This has never been your wish. However, if you desire the power to take revenge, then accept it. Accept your daughter’s wish.”

  The floating stone suddenly transformed into a long thread, connecting the bodies of Rosana and Rose. Rose’s skin grew rosy, her heart began to beat, yet her eyes never opened. In contrast, Lady Rosana turned deathly pale. Ice began to spread outward from her feet, her heart ceased to beat, yet Rosana rejoiced. She could feel that Rose was still alive. A bond had been born between them.

  Rose and Lady vanished within the cathedral, which became completely frozen. Where they once stood remained only a cold chamber, shattered ice scattered like broken mirrors.

  Time passed, and no one remembered their story anymore. Under the influence of Stronghold, they were transformed from victims into wicked witches. Lady Rosana was declared wanted for the murder of all the cathedral’s attendants.

  Within the Mirror World, at the highest point of the frozen tower, Rose lay there as if peacefully asleep. Beneath the tower lay countless perfectly preserved corpses. Their souls could not return to the ferryman’s embrace and instead screamed within the vast layers of ice. Streams of pitch black energy from their souls gradually gathered upward, nourishing Rose’s fragile body and spirit.

  Haunting screams echoed, begging the woman in white to grant them release. Lady Rosana merely stood there coldly. She wore an elegant white gown, silk gloves upon her hands, and a white masquerade mask upon her face. Before her stood an ice statue containing the soul of a thin young man. He screamed in agony, pounding against the ice in a futile attempt to escape. He wailed as black energy poured endlessly from his body.

  “Please forgive me. Please forgive me. I am an animals. Let me be freed.”

  Lady Rosana produced a white feather silk fan from somewhere. She gently waved it before her face, concealing her lips as they curved into a smile.

  “What a lively boy. Do not worry. You will not fade away. What you have suffered is still not enough. You only need to endure a little longer. Just a little more of eternity. Ha ha ha ha ha.”