Let's Train Heroine

As she drew closer to the source of the sickening energy, her head throbbed. That vile, putrid force was none other than the Saint's presence. Where others would feel warmth, peace, and purity, she felt disgust, revulsion. It churned her insides, making her stomach twist in knots, the very air tasting bitter on her tongue.

How could anyone stand this? She gagged as the energy grew stronger, the aura of the Saint radiating from the north like a foul odor.

"I need to stop this," she muttered, her voice low and filled with contempt. "This… wretched presence cannot continue."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile, the plan already forming in her mind. The Saint was strong—this much she remembered from the shards of her past. If she were to defeat her, it would have to be done swiftly and with precision. No mercy. No hesitation.

"I should study the Saint, or destroy a county and then make that county my base and the slowly destroy everything."

She mused aloud, her voice soft yet dripping with malice. "Learn her weaknesses, then strike. It must be quick… an instant kill. No time for her to resist." Her white eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as she plotted her approach.

The girl tilted her head slightly as she considered the next step. "But before all that," she said, her tone more casual now, "I should give myself a name."

She paused in the middle of the forest, her white dress fluttering gently in the soft breeze. In her past lives, she had been feared, known only as the Evil Magician, but now, reborn in this new form, she thought differently. Before she didn't care for name but this time she want a name, a name that that suited her.

Her eyes drifted upward, past the trees to the dark sky above. The moon hung low, its pale light casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. For a moment, she considered taking a name from the moon's glow, something soft and mysterious. But no. That wasn't right. She wasn't a creature of light.

Her gaze shifted northward, toward the direction of the Saint and that foul energy. No, she was something darker. Something more dangerous.

"Hmm…" she murmured thoughtfully, her fingers brushing a strand of her long white hair back behind her ear. What name would suit her? It had to be powerful, it had to strike fear into those who heard it, but it also had to reflect who she was now—this new incarnation of the Evil Magician.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as a name suddenly came to her, as if it had been waiting for her to remember it all along.

"Nyx," she whispered, testing the name on her tongue. It felt right. Dark, yet elegant. A name that could bring entire kingdoms to their knees. A name that would be feared.

She let the name settle within her, feeling it meld with her identity, solidifying her resolve.

"Yes…" she said, louder this time, her voice filled with a quiet, dangerous confidence. "Nyx."

She stood there for a moment longer, the darkness around her seeming to grow deeper as she embraced her new name, her new identity. Nyx, the one who would bring an end to the Saint, the one who would fulfill her ancient purpose. She would study her prey, learn her weaknesses, and then strike with a force so devastating that the Saint wouldn't even know what hit her.

With a satisfied smile, Nyx turned her gaze once more toward the north, where the sickening energy pulsed like a beacon. The path was clear. She knew what had to be done.

Without another word, she vanished into the night, her form a blur of white and dark as she moved silently toward her north.

Beside saint, she also felt a small presence of something she was familiar.

Nyx moved through the dense forest with fluid, purposeful strides. Her white dress flowed around her like a living shadow, contrasting sharply against the dark, tangled woods. As she approached the northern region, the foul energy of the Saint grew ever stronger, thick and nauseating. It was like an unbearable stench in the air, making her stomach churn with each step.

But her attention was drawn away from the Saint's energy by another, weaker presence—a familiar sensation that tugged at the edges of her awareness.
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After traveling for hours, she arrived in a place that felt strangely resonant. It was the location where Maris had fought the elemental creature. The battle had left its mark—cracks in the earth and splintered rocks scattered across the area. The once-mighty elemental creature now lay dormant and diminished, weakened to a state barely noticeable.

Nyx approached with cautious curiosity. The elemental was a mere shadow of its former self, small and fragile, yet there was a distinct energy that resonated with her own. It was the same kind of ancient power she had sensed before, though diminished. She could not recall why it felt familiar, but the instinct within her told her that this creature could be useful.

She knelt beside the elemental, her white eyes narrowing as she studied its weakened form. The creature's energy was faint, barely more than a whisper of its former strength, yet it held a potential she could tap into. Her fingers hovered over the small, shimmering form, and she could sense the elemental's lingering magic—a connection to nature that was both profound and arcane.

"This could work," Nyx murmured. She decided that if this creature could serve her purpose, she would harness its power. She placed her hands on the creature, a surge of white light emanating from her fingertips as she began to channel her magic into it.

The healing process was delicate. The white light wrapped around the elemental, mending its damaged energy and revitalizing its form. Slowly, the creature began to regain its shape, its flickering aura brightening. Though the process was subtle, the creature's power started to grow once more. Nyx watched with a smirk, pleased by the results of her intervention.