【Prologue 】Legend of the Obsidian Princess

Translator: SaltyTank

Editor: Bokononister

 From within the tattered convent came the clanging sound of the bell tower. No one rang the bell, nor was there a bell to begin with—the bell tower had fallen long ago. In the harsh desert. the convent also failed the test of time and was crumbling, but eerily the ringing sound never stopped. No one knew how, and no one knew why.

 Some said that ghosts made the sounds because of a disaster from ages ago. Others said those were the cries of the dead souls encased within the piece of obsidian inside the convent. Obsidian represented one’s soul after all.

 However, these were all mere guesses. No one dared to enter the convent. It was a place that was reminiscent of the Underworld , covered in dark sand, never receiving even a drop of daylight. People were curious, but above that, they were afraid. Once in the past, brave men ventured into the site, but just like how stories were told, none were ever seen again.

 There were plenty of legends and myths about the bell tower, passed down from generation to generation, the details of which were lost or falsified in the course of time, yet there remained in the myths one thing that still rang true. Inside the convent lay an obsidian skeleton brimming with power, and it was the skeleton that turned the once inhabitable place into a desert. When the time came, everyone in the world would suffer from the skeleton’s curse . Nowadays, even if people knew, they were unwilling to speak of the dreadful end of the world. Only the crazed elderly roaming the streets would continue grumbling a becursed folk song:

Late into the night, the end nowhere in sight,

The brave ventures into the unknown affright.

The stars shall pave thy road with light,

The bells shall hold thy souls warm and tight.

For thy love, for thy strength,

Evil shall surrender the world’s reins.

Rid thy love, rid thy strength,

And ye shall bind the world in chains.

O’ great returnee, lost in our world.

O’ great returnee, saved by the almighty.

O’ great returnee, ring thy bell for the world.

Thy body lost, darkness descends once again,

Starlight shall come forth, ridding the earth of pain.

Obsidian back at last, the stars shall everlast.

With these bones of black, the cycle of death shall finally crack.

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