"If my bones become an immortal legend, will you cross the dust of time and lay a white chrysanthemum at my grave?"
It was a childhood shrouded in the gloom of fate.
With her mysterious Puppet Fruit, she dragged her dead father back from the road to the underworld. Her young eyes, already clouded with weariness, had long since seen through the terrifying truth hidden behind it all: this was the beginning of a curse, the opening chapter of an endless nightmare.
The Jinhui Clan was an ancient family that concealed countless secrets from the world, and for generations it had borne a secret heavy enough to crush the soul.
Whenever a child's eyes in the family became as clear as glass, it was fate sounding the alarm.
At that moment, the family elders would silently prepare a dagger, a dagger meant for killing one's own kin.
Its cold blade glinted, as though telling of the bloodshed and despair to come.
"Mom, why don't I have horns?"
"Because we love you."
"Dad, your horns are bleeding."
Her father said nothing. He only clenched his hands tightly, revealing the pain and inner struggle he felt.
Later, she gradually understood.
The seemingly sacred inheritance ceremony of the Spirit Mages was never an awakening of power. It was a cruel sacrifice.
In that sacrifice, family bonds and humanity were mercilessly trampled underfoot, leaving nothing but cold bloodshed and endless pain.
"Alice, why am I different from you all?"
"Because you are destined to become the Swordbearer."
A hundred years passed in the blink of an eye.
As minstrels sang legends of the Jinhui Clan in the streets and alleys, a young woman stood quietly atop the ruins of a temple, her posture straight, yet filled with immeasurable loneliness and the weight of the years.
She slowly lowered her head, her gaze passing over the many hornless "dragon" skeletons on the ground.
Were their souls still wandering among these ruins? Were they still waiting?
("What wrong did Jinhui do? When will you... offer me up?")
This lament from the depths of the soul echoed through the darkness like the cry of a night owl, telling of the family's pain and struggle across countless generations...
(An early idea, with chapters already written)
Theme: The truth can never be buried
