Far outside the walls of Lowellina, amidst a field of shattered rocks, Lucy stood, breathing heavily. The landscape around her was utterly desolate, scattered with debris from the destroyed boulders.

"Aaaaah!" she screamed, unleashing a final strike that shattered the last rocky hill. Dark energy, embodying her resentment, seeped from her body.

She had lost Lin right before her eyes. To Lavyn, to the imperial forces—she had watched helplessly as they took the man who should have been hers. The thought was driving her mad.

For someone like Lucy, who distrusted people, Lin had been her only source of reliance, and Lavyn the one person who could somewhat control her. In their absence, she couldn't keep her sanity, not by day or by night. Unable to sleep, she left Lowellina's walls, wielding her sword recklessly to vent the emptiness and rage within her.

She swung her sword with a singular purpose: to one day cut down anything that came between her and Lin, to reach the end of the red thread tied around her little finger.

[That’s not enough,] the Abyss chided, speaking with an uncharacteristic tone.