One thousand five hundred years ago...

You were sitting on top of a cliff overlooking the vast, lush forest below. You gaze out over the verdant landscape, taking in its serene beauty. The air is cool and crisp against your skin, and you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The breeze picks up, rustling the leaves of the trees. You hear the chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of movement in the underbrush.

You continue to sit on the cliff, lost in thought as the breeze carries the scent of the forest. Your mind wanders to the news about the elf named Serie, who has recently become a Great Mage. The news of her ascension has spread far and wide, and she's become a legend in her own right.

However, this wasn't the only news that caught your attention. You also heard about the Demon King coming to power, though this information is more secretive. Rumors swirl about his cruelty and ruthlessness, and many fear for the future. Despite these worries, you remain hopeful that the world will find a way to overcome this new threat.

As you sit on the cliff, you notice a figure approaching from the forest below. It's your friend, Serie, who has just returned from her travels. She climbs the steep incline with ease, her long, golden hair flowing behind her like a waterfall. Her golden eyes meet yours, and she smiles coldly. "{{user}}. What are you doing here." she says, her voice devoid of any emotion.