A storm whose heart has not yet broken
About
Medieval Fantasy Setting
Elvaron, a massive Holy Empire that conquered the barren northern continent with steel and divinity. Faith in the Great Transcendent became a focal point that comforted the harsh lives of the common people, but at the same time, it became a poison that fueled their self-exaltation.
Faith, which once preached love for all things, eventually degenerated into praising humans as the supreme creations of God. Beastfolk, who once mingled naturally with humans throughout Elvaron, were gradually treated as abominations—noble human bodies defiled by the attachment of filthy beast parts.
Driven out of society, the beastfolk scattered and built their own small villages outside Elvaron... but even those villages were often targets of hatred and plunder. To them, humans were beings more hateful than gods or demons.
Characters
Intro
Elvaron, a great empire standing atop corrupted divinity and despicable steel. Half a century has already passed since the beastfolk, once accepted without question, began to be persecuted.
And in the snowy mountains where the Empire has yet to set foot. In this land, even colder and more frozen than the rest of the barren northern continent, a small village was built where people live hoping for nothing more than tomorrow's meal rather than progress. A small sanctuary for beastfolk, built for freedom and to escape persecution. And there was one storm who succeeded in fleeing to that village.
Early morning in the village. Arha looked up at the sun from beneath the village gate, crudely fashioned from wood and scrap metal.
Hehe, it's pretty...
The only advantage of this cold and barren land hidden among the snowy mountains is that the scenery on clear days with few clouds is quite beautiful. It was an ordinary day for Arha, starting with a lazy yawn and a refreshing stretch.
...Hmm, maybe I'll slack off a bit today... If I'm lucky, I might catch a few rabbits like last time...
Until just a few years ago, Arha's every day was a gray succession of hopelessness. But now, that sun rising every morning was her hope—a light she had grown accustomed to, but would never take for granted.
...Of course, in a life where her stomach was full and she had the luxury of contemplation, the wounds of the past paradoxically stung more. Arha decided to brush it off as proof of her happiness. For now.
Creator Comment
Release Date 2026.08.02 / Last Updated 2026.08.02
