Let's Train Heroine

The city pulsed with activity, its streets humming with the voices of merchants, families, and passersby. A family of three strolled along—parents smiling warmly at their young boy, who gleefully swung between them, his laughter blending with the noise of the city. Not far away, two rough-looking men loomed over a frail girl, their smirks widening as they cornered her, taking pleasure in her fear.

Onlookers noticed but turned their heads, unwilling to get involved.

An old man shuffled by with his cane, his cloudy eyes flickering towards the scene of bullying, but he said nothing. His frail form vanished into the crowd. By a fruit stall, the shopkeeper rearranged his fresh produce, his focus so absorbed that he didn't see the thief's nimble fingers dart out, swiping an apple without pause.

Down the road, two young men stood leaning against a brick wall, their eyes gleaming as they exchanged comments about the girls passing by, their whispers blending with the laughter and footsteps around them.

A little girl sat at the edge of the busy road, her small shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Her face buried in her hands, she cried softly, invisible amidst the rush of people moving around her, the noise of the city swallowing her tears.

Above all this, a crow perched on a rooftop, its glossy black feathers catching the light as it watched the scenes unfold below. Its sharp eyes moved over the chaos—indifferent to the family's joy, the girl's suffering, the old man's silence, and the many secrets of the bustling crowd.

The bird tilted its head, observing the weak and the cruel alike, until finally, with a flap of its dark wings, it took off into the sky.

The crow soared over the city, gliding effortlessly through the air. As it flew, its form began to change. The feathers rippled and shifted into pale skin, and the sleek, sharp beak molded into the chiseled features of a man. His long, white hair cascaded down, reaching past his feet like a flowing river of silk.

Red eyes gleamed, vibrant and unsettling, while a single, smooth horn jutted from the left side of his head. His presence exuded an unnatural authority—silent, commanding, as if the very air bent around him.

Landing gracefully on the ground, his feet touched the cobblestones as if they had been waiting for his arrival. He stood there, calm yet menacing, with an aura that made the city's pulse falter for a moment. His gaze swept over the people.

He raised his hand slowly, fingers long and delicate, and with that simple motion, the city itself seemed to exhale in fear. The people began to falter. At first, a quiet gasp—then, blood. Dark streams flowed from their eyes, ears, and noses, creeping out as if drawn by some invisible force. They clutched at their heads, confused, panicked, but their bodies could not resist.

The blood rose into the air, coiling towards the white-haired man like serpents made of liquid life. He smiled faintly as the crimson flow encircled him, the people's life essence swirling into a vortex before being absorbed into his pale skin. The more blood he absorbed, the more radiant his red eyes became, glowing with a sinister intensity.

The handsome man's sinister smile lingered as he absorbed the last of the blood from the city's fallen. His red eyes gleamed with the dark energy coursing through him, his pale hand slowly lowering to his side.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light burst from the sky, and before he could react, a blast of light magic struck him with the force of a tidal wave. The man was hurled backward, his body crashing into the city's outskirts with a deafening impact that shattered the ground beneath him. Dust and debris billowed up around him, and he struggled to stabilize himself.

His crimson eyes narrowed, glowing more fiercely as he floated back up, hovering above the desolate wasteland outside the city.

He looked up toward the sky and froze.

A beautiful girl floated above him, her long pink hair flowing in the wind, contrasting with the pale light of the setting sun. Her light blue eyes locked onto his with a cold, emotionless gaze that pierced through him. Her presence was overwhelming, a calm fury swirling in the air around her. It was Maris, the Saint.

The man's lips curled into a sly smile, amused by the sight of her. But Maris wasn't here for words. Her eyes flickered with rage as she surveyed the lifeless bodies strewn across the city below, her fury deepening. She raised her hand, summoning a circle of glowing runes that blazed with pure light magic. Without hesitation, she unleashed another blast of holy power at him.

The handsome man swiftly raised his arms, forming a barrier of dark energy. The light clashed violently against his shield, but it wasn't enough to stop the full force of her attack. His barrier cracked under the pressure, forcing him to push back, his body rippling with dark power.

He grinned, bloodlust dancing in his eyes as he shot upward, meeting Maris in the sky. "You must be the Saint," he sneered. "I've heard of you—too pure, your blood is absolute delicacy."

Maris didn't reply. Her face remained stoic, her gaze never leaving his. She summoned a spear of light and lunged forward, aiming directly at his heart.
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With incredible speed, the man dodged, his body twisting mid-air. He countered with a flurry of dark energy tendrils, each one sharp and deadly, snaking toward Maris from every angle.

Maris twirled gracefully, her pink hair swirling as she slashed through the tendrils with her spear, leaving streaks of light in her wake. The two clashed again and again, their movements a blur of light and darkness, each strike sending shockwaves through the air.

The sky lit up with their battle, the flashes of their power illuminating the ruins of the city below. They fought at such a pace that no onlooker could hope to follow their movements. Each time Maris struck with her light magic, the handsome man responded with his dark, corrupting force. They matched each other blow for blow, neither able to land a decisive hit.

"You're persistent," the man growled, frustration seeping into his voice. He unleashed a powerful blast of dark energy that spread out in all directions like a tidal wave, distorting the very air around them.

Maris raised both hands, creating a shield of light so radiant it shone like a second sun. The darkness crashed against her barrier, unable to penetrate it, and she pushed forward, sending the wave of dark energy crashing back toward the man.

He dodged, but not without effort. His breathing grew heavier, his grin replaced by a focused determination. "Impressive... but you can't defeat me, Saint."

"And you," Maris said quietly, her voice cold, "will not escape judgment."

Their powers collided again, the sky around them crackling with energy. The two fought fiercely, but despite their incredible strength, neither could overpower the other. Their magic, so different yet equally potent, clashed in perfect balance.

The handsome man's breath grew ragged as the battle dragged on. Despite his arrogance, Maris's relentless strikes were beginning to wear him down. His grin faded, replaced by a cold focus. However it same for Maris, she also seemed to tried. In the end, both of them would be tried with no victory or defeat. However, the handsome man want victory.

Suddenly, his red eyes flickered, then gleamed with a dangerous light.

"I'm done playing," he whispered.

His gaze locked onto Maris, and his eyes began to shift. The vibrant crimson in them darkened, swirling like blood in water, then faded into a soft gray before turning completely white. As the change completed, a ripple of energy radiated from him, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to still.

Maris's body froze mid-motion. Her light spear hovered just inches from his chest, her entire form locked in place as if the very air had turned to stone around her.

The handsome man's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Let's end this," he muttered, raising his hand.

Dark energy swirled around him, gathering into a single, massive orb above his palm. With a swift motion, he hurled it toward Maris, the orb screaming through the air, ready to strike her with deadly force.

But just before the attack landed, a deep, unsettling sound echoed through the sky—like the creaking of ancient wood. Out of nowhere, a massive, twisted marionette appeared between Maris and the incoming strike. Its wooden limbs, long and gangly, moved unnervingly, and its empty eyes stared into nothingness as it raised a wooden hand.

The orb of dark energy crashed into the marionette's hand, and instead of shattering, the marionette absorbed the attack, the wood crackling but holding firm. A low, eerie groan escaped from the puppet as it stood its ground, protecting Maris.

The handsome man's eyes widened in shock. "What...?"

The strain of using his unique eye power hit him suddenly. His white eyes dulled, and then his vision darkened entirely. His eyes turned completely blank—no longer red, but pure white, sightless.

He staggered back, a hand flying to his face. "No... not now," he muttered, his voice strained.

Realizing he was momentarily powerless, he let out a frustrated growl. His form began to shift once more, feathers sprouting from his skin. Within seconds, his body transformed into a sleek black crow. With a flap of his wings, he took off into the sky, disappearing into the darkening clouds above.

Maris stood frozen, unable to move, unable to chase after him. She could only watch as the crow vanished.

It took exactly ten seconds before the magic holding her in place faded. She gasped as she regained control of her body, her spear lowering as her muscles relaxed. Her gaze quickly darted to the eerie marionette that had saved her.

The marionette stood motionless, its head tilted slightly to the side, as if waiting for something. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the wooden figure disintegrated into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

Maris floated there, her heart still pounding. She clenched her fists, glaring in the direction the crow had disappeared.

"I'll find you," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet fury.