Wraith Guide

"I will root out every trace of Nocturn Eterna in Nova."

Reputation Despite her rank in the Sentinel of Dawn, Wraith operates with complete autonomy. She is a fixture in the Trekker community, earning her quite a reputation. Rumor has it she hails from a long-abandoned city of the Northern City.

Commission Standards 1. Always open to Nocturn Eterna-related commissions. Willing to cover operational costs. 2. Priority given to commissions paying in weapon crafting or enhancement materials. 3. Available for weapon and gear testing. Minimal or no fee required. - All other requests are subject to daily availability.

Collaboration Feedback "Wraith? It's weird how humble she is for someone so famous. She barely speaks and charges next to nothing. What is going on in that head of hers?" "She's a powerhouse, but her memory's odd. She forgets faces and names instantly, yet recalls every weapon spec we carry by heart." "Catch her on a break, and she's always in the corner with an ice cream. Never the same flavor twice, either!"

The Weapon Guide Trekkers can now pick up a free combat guide at the Trekker Association. It's packed with weapon specs, maintenance tips, and matchup data against major monsters and Stellaroids. Wraith authored and edited the guide herself. Willow, who handles the printing and publishing, was happy to help. She believes this project gives Wraith a much-needed break from her obsession with the Nocturn Eterna.

Field Work Application Request Type: Field Duty Duration: 2 Weeks Reason: I'm craving the ice cream back in the City of a Thousand Monoliths. I need to find that nostalgic flavor again. Timestamp: 15:30 Status: REJECTED Comment: Who has the gall to use an excuse like that to slack off? Timestamp: 15:45 Status: APPROVED Comment: My apologies, Lady Wraith. I didn't see the name.

She's tough and definitely marches to her own beat. Usually quiet, but get her started on gun mods and she won't shut up. Interesting character. — Kasimira A little lamb from the North. I've been dying to test her skills in a duel, but she scampers off the moment I get close. Hehe, adorable. — Gerie

The CV is extremely accurate. Straightforward, diligent, efficient, and a bit "unique." That is the consensus on Wraith. When asked why a Sentinel of Dawn spends so much time with Trekkers, she admits it is purely to gather intel on Nocturn Eterna. Even knowing this, people place their trust in her. — Willow

The Anti-Nocturn-Eterna Ace Combat simulations reveal that Wraith anticipates events two seconds before they happen. This isn't magic. It's a "superpower" forged from relentless training, acute observation, and god-like reflexes. This ability gives her a massive edge against the unknown, making her our best asset against the Nocturn Eterna. — Combat Evaluation Division, Sentinel of Dawn

Wraith wanders the streets of the City of a Thousand Monoliths, fresh off a commission and mulling over how to "reward" herself. She doesn't really "get" leisure. She is simply mimicking the traditions of her clan: the post-hunt feast. Back home, food is an offering to comrades, family, and glory. But here, all Wraith can manage is a small, symbolic gesture. "Hey, look. It's Wraith." "She must be on a job. I wonder who could possibly order someone like her around." Wraith ignores the whispers trailing her. She has dealt with these staring eyes since the day she arrived in the city. Still, their gossip triggers a memory—her very first "commission" here. Back then, she was a stranger plagued by bizarre rumors and suspicious glares. Worse, she was constantly worrying about where her next meal would come from. Trust is currency among Trekkers, and a foreign face has no value. The city air felt more suffocating than any northern blizzard, and sure enough, she couldn't land a single job. Just as she was contemplating a grim future, a girl's cry pierced the air. Wraith looked up to see a red balloon drifting skyward. Instinct took over. She scaled the wall in a blur, leaped from the roof, and snatched the balloon mid-air. The crowd below applauded, assuming it was a street performance. Before the girl could even react, this silver-haired stranger was already standing in front of her, balloon in hand. "Here. Don't lose it again. Bye." "Please wait!" The girl stopped her, offering a thank-you gift: a round, white dessert. "What is this? White... Cold... Is it snow?" "It's ice cream! I'm out of allowance money, but please take this. Thanks for saving my balloon." "My apologies, but I haven't fallen low enough to eat ice and snow. In my homeland, only a failed hunter would resort to eating..." "You... You don't like it? I-I'm sorry..." "Ugh, no! I didn't mean that! Don't cry! Look, I'm eating it, okay?" Wraith took a cautious bite. Beyond the nostalgic chill, a rich, creamy sweetness flooded her mouth. A faint flush rose on her cheeks. "This! What is this? It's so sweet... Is the local 'snow' always like this?" "I told you, it's called ice cream! But I'm glad you like it." "Thank you. I have never seen anything this magical back home. I will remember its name." "Um... Can I have another one?" "Wow, you really love ice cream. Alright, I'll tell you a secret..." "Miss? Have you decided on your order?" The server's question snaps her back to reality. Without realizing it, her search for a "reward" has led her straight to this familiar shop. "I'll take one Ultra-Creamy Double-Nut Supreme Cross-Star Special, please." Ignoring the stares around her, Wraith places her order with absolute confidence. "I never expected anyone to actually order the secret menu item... Ahaha..." "It was the first magic spell I learned in this city." "And I ... really like it."

Familiar faces crowded the plaza. Putting aside the fresh grief of lost homes and kin, the people gathered to witness a warrior's birth. A young girl emerged from the crowd. Under the community's gaze, the Council pinned a medal of honor to her chest. Her mission: to scale the perilous Behemoth Mountains alone, crossing a deadly frontier to reach the continent's heart. A few days ago, she overheard a conversation between the messengers of the Grace Imperium and the councilors: this tragedy was no natural disaster—it was a deliberate act of man. To uncover the truth, she must journey to the City of a Thousand Monoliths and find the very source of all this suffering. "May your soul return to glory." The clan chanted their highest blessing in unison before returning to the grim work of rebuilding. "May your soul return to glory..." The girl murmured the words, drifting awake. Outside, a blizzard howled, reminding her she was still at the summit of the Behemoth Mountains. Half a year had already vanished into the snow. "... Out of rations." She couldn't afford to sleep. In this demonic realm that had claimed countless warriors, she had to fight for every scrap of survival. By dim candlelight, she unrolled a map. Her finger traced a handwritten note pointing to a crevice in the peaks—a rumored pass leading out of the snow and into the interior of Nova. A dull ache flared in her side. That was a "souvenir" from a recent battle with an Icefang Beast. She had wanted to claim its fang as a trophy, but the ice beneath her cracked. Faced with a choice, she resolutely chose life. "Coming home empty-handed is usually a joke, but luckily, under the circumstances..." She applied the last of her salve to the wound. A shadow darted across the dark rock wall. Reflexes took over as she snatched a rock lizard from a crevice. "... I can't go back. And I don't need to." With a quick snap, she ended it. She struck a flint and prepared her first meal in two days. "Thank you. Your life won't be wasted." After cleaning up, she added another mark to her travel log. Time blurred. When she finally came to, the hard ice underfoot had given way to soft, damp soil. Smoke rose gently from chimneys on the horizon. Trekkers passed by in groups, glancing curiously at her, then adjusted their packs and continued toward the distant Monolith. She stopped at a stream to wash away the grime. Fish darted playfully around her ankles. She studied her reflection: silver-white hair falling past her ears. It seemed the only thing consistent was that color of home. It finally hit her: she had come a very long way.

Silence hung over the quiet cemetery on the Silver District outskirts of the City of a Thousand Monolith. The old gravekeeper was up with the sun, as always. Washed and dressed, he headed out to sweep the fallen leaves. Nearby, a white-haired girl stood before a fresh headstone, clutching a bouquet. She wore a solemn expression in her formal black, looking like she had just bade goodbye to an old friend. "Did they ... have a good life?" The old man had seen this scene a thousand times. The words of comfort came automatically. "Served my grandfather, scaled snowy peaks, fought off monsters... Lived a life of glory." "Grandfather introduced us. We were partners until the end, sworn to crush every villain we met." "Sounds like a warrior worth respecting." "We were chasing a Nocturn Eterna recently. It took a direct magic hit... Critical damage to its lever-action mechanism." "I struggled for a long time, but I've decided to bring it back." "My condolences... Wait, what?" Wraith placed a can of gun oil on the grave. "I used to be able to cock it one-handed. Learned that trick from a Stella Drama." "After the battle, I rebuilt it. Even fused it with parts from one of my melee weapons." "Shame I can't do that cool reload flip anymore, though." As Wraith spoke, she lifted her "resurrected" comrade from its case. "It used to be 'Blizzard 987,' after the Monolith Year it was summoned." "Now, it has a new name: Bayonet Zero Alter." "Alright. Say goodbye to the old you, partner." Wraith stood and walked over to the old man. "Thanks, sir. Weird as it sounds, you're the first person who didn't slip off as I told my story." "Let's go, partner. Time to find those guys and get the revenge." The old man stared at her retreating back, speechless, before finally muttering under his breath. "Kids these days are intense ... in every sense of the word."