Saphyra, Sybil, and Sylvara stood together, their modern yet mystical outfits blending dark cloaks with intricate magical embroidery.
A unique tattoo, composed of elegant arcane symbols and interconnected geometric patterns, stretched from the left side of their foreheads, trailing past their eyes, down their necks, and onto their right arms.
This tattoo was their mark—the symbol of their rank as the New Guardians, an elite trio tasked with protecting the future queen.
And since Lunara was the daughter of Annie, that made her the future queen of the witches.
Menma crossed his arms, staring at Annie. "Are you seriously bringing Lunara to Purgatory? We can't risk the future queen dying over something reckless."
Annie smirked. "Well, at least she can catch a woodchuck."
Lunara rolled her eyes. "Nah, Menma's just trying to keep me here so he can increase his skeleton kill count. But I'm not letting that happen."
With that, they began preparing. Various potions were gathered—each one designed to enhance their abilities in different ways.
As they approached the portal, Annie turned to Menma. "Don't forget your sword."
He reached for his weapon—a thick, one-handed blade built for powerful strikes. Unlike most swords, its tip was flat and squared, designed more for crushing than slicing.
The hilt was wrapped in dark leather, and its elegant crossguard twisted like intertwining shadows.
Gripping it tightly, Menma joined the others. One by one, they extended their hands toward the portal.
The moment they touched it, the portal pulled them in, as if swallowing them whole.
The last one to step through was Menma. He turned back just in time to see Annie smiling warmly. "Come back safe, all of you."
The instant they landed, the world around them changed.
The sky was a deep, suffocating red. The air smelled of sulfur, and the ground was nothing but barren rock and rivers of lava stretching endlessly in all directions. Fire raged in the distance, consuming what little remained of this forsaken land.
For anyone entering for the first time, the sight alone could be overwhelming.
But Menma and the others had been here before. Their eyes were used to the flames, their minds trained to focus only on the mission. Get in. Kill the skeletons. Get out.
Behind them, the portal snapped shut—sealing Purgatory off from the Earth.
As they moved forward, Menma and Lunara started arguing.
"I'm taking down more skeletons than you today," Menma declared.
Lunara grinned. "Not a chance."
The New Guardians chimed in, eager to join the challenge.
After a while, they reached a lava pool. Lunara sighed. "Alright, time for a potion."
Sybil pulled out a set of small vials from a satchel. Each of them grabbed one and drank.
The Jumping Potion surged through their bodies, instantly enhancing their leg muscles, allowing them to leap over the lava with ease.
They moved forward.
As they walked through the rocky terrain, Menma turned to the others.
"Are we counting kills by grade? I mean, taking down a first-grade skeleton is way harder than a third-grade one."
Lunara nodded. "Yeah, let's set a point system. Third-grade is 1 point, second-grade is 10 points, and first-grade is 100."
The New Guardians nodded in agreement.
Saphyra smirked. "Makes sense. Third-grade skeletons are basically mindless—they only know how to swing their weapons and kill anything in front of them. They can't use 'Creation' or even speak."
Sybil added, "Second-grade ones are a little smarter. They try to strategize, but they still struggle with 'Creation' and barely manage to speak clearly."
Sylvara crossed her arms. "And first-grade skeletons… those things are dangerous. They can use 'Creation' freely and talk just like us."
Menma cracked his knuckles. "Good. That means they're worth fighting."
Lunara extended a hand. "Alright, deal?"
They all shook hands, sealing the bet.
As they reached the edge of a cliff, they stopped. Below them, an endless sea of lava stretched across the land, its waves shifting like molten gold under the eerie red sky.
For a moment, they simply stared, mesmerized by its terrifying beauty.
Then—
"IS THAT A SKELETON?" Sylvara shouted, pointing toward a distant battle.
In the distance, a group of skeletons fought among themselves.
Without hesitation, they sprinted toward them, each determined to be the first to reach their prey.
A third-grade skeleton swung its sword wildly at a second-grade, but the latter easily blocked the attack with a shield. With a precise counter, the second-grade skeleton cleaved through the third-grade's neck.
Before it could celebrate—
CRACK!
A fist slammed into its skull, shattering it instantly.
"10 points!" Lunara grinned.
Saphyra smirked, drinking a Strength Potion before unsheathing her daggers.
Her twin obsidian blades flickered with an eerie blue glow. The hilts were carved with ancient runes, and each pommel was adorned with a jagged crystal.
The daggers were as light as air yet sharp enough to pierce even the toughest armor.
Her black hair whipped through the battlefield as she tore through enemy after enemy, a deadly blur in the chaos.
Meanwhile, Sybil gripped her spear—a six-foot weapon with a reinforced wooden shaft and a razor-sharp steel tip.
She hurled it forward, impaling a second-grade skeleton in a single strike. Without missing a beat, she rushed forward, yanked the spear free, and used it to block an incoming attack before delivering the killing blow.
From a distance, Sylvara wielded her segmented steel whip, the links moving like a living creature. Each segment was razor-sharp, slicing through bone effortlessly. With every swing, skeleton heads rolled across the battlefield.
Menma, however, had his sights set on something bigger.
A first-grade skeleton loomed before him.
It was nearly 2.5 meters tall, its bones thick and unnaturally wide, mimicking the structure of muscles. Unlike the others, it didn't move mindlessly—it studied Menma, analyzing him.
"WHO ARE YOU?!" the skeleton roared.
Menma smirked. "Your death."
He lunged, aiming for its neck.
But the skeleton reacted instantly. 'Skeleton Creation // Skeleton Axe'—with a burst of energy, it conjured a massive, double-headed axe, its entire form made of bones.
Steel met bone as they clashed. Menma struck relentlessly, forcing the skeleton onto the defensive. Even without eyes, it was clear from its posture—it was struggling to keep up.
Desperate, the skeleton tried to retreat, attempting another creation spell.
Menma didn't let it.
Gripping his sword tighter, he let out a fierce cry—"AHHHH!"—and slammed his blade forward, shattering the axe and slicing through the skeleton's neck in a single, decisive strike.
100 points.
Another first-grade skeleton charged at him from behind.
"IM GOING TO KILL YOU!" it screamed.
Menma took a deep breath, sliding his hair back. "Here comes another 100 points."
But before the skeleton could reach him—
CLANK!
Sylvara's whip coiled around its limbs, yanking it backward.
Saphyra dashed in, sliding on one knee as she slashed its legs with her daggers.
As the skeleton fell, Sybil stepped in, driving her spear through its skull in one clean motion.
The New Guardians cheered. "We took down our first first-grade skeleton!" They huddled together, laughing like children.
Menma groaned. "Seriously? Act your age."
From a distance, Lunara chuckled. "You guys handled that like pros!"
Menma turned, eyes widening at the mountain of skeleton corpses around her.
"HOW MANY DID YOU KILL?!"
Lunara's hands still smoked from the sheer force of her attacks. She grinned. "While you wasted time with one skeleton worth 100 points, I took down 20 second-grade skeletons. So yeah, I passed you."
Menma gritted his teeth. "No way I'm losing to you again! Let's find more skeletons!"
Lunara rolled her eyes. "No, dumbass. We have enough bones for a month. We're going home."
Annoyed, Menma huffed—but he knew she was right.
Atop the cliff where they had stood earlier, two figures now watched.
The only thing visible was a golden crown resting upon one of their heads, a single yellow gem gleaming in the firelight.
With a voice like death itself, it spoke.
"Go. Kill them."
The second shadow vanished.
As Menma and the others turned to leave, Lunara suddenly stopped.
A chill ran down her spine. The overwhelming heat of Purgatory should have made that impossible, but for just a second—it felt like something cold was staring at her.
She glanced back at the cliff. Nothing. Just the sea of lava stretching endlessly.
"Lunara?" Menma called.
"…Nothing," she muttered, shaking it off. But deep down, she wasn't so sure